Game o' cards

"Everything in the world ends up being a dirty business, and a person who wears himself out for money or honor or whatever else for someone else's sake, without his own passion, his own need, is always a fool." (Goethe)

Nothing To Say

One of the most important things, which we often foolishly deprive ourselves of, is being honest with ourself. - Buffers, William Lloyd. Prague. 1640.

Sorrow's memory is a sorrow still

"Evenings I plan to enjoy the sunrise, and don't get out of bed; during the day I look forward to enjoying the moonlight, and remain in my room. I really don't know why I get up, why I go to bed." (Goethe)

Fur Traders Descending the Missouri

Evening Harmony

The hour has come at last when, trembling to and fro,
Each flower is a censer sifting its perfume;
The scent and sounds all swirl in evening’s gentle fume;
A melancholy waltz, a languid vertigo!

Each flower is a censer sifting its perfume;
A violin’s vibrato wounds the heart of woe;
A melancholy waltz, a languid vertigo!
The sky, a lofty altar, lovely in the gloom,

A violin’s vibrato wounds the heart of woe,
A tender heart detests the black of nullity,
The sky, a lofty altar, lovely in the gloom;
The sun is drowning in the evening’s blood-red glow.

A tender heart detests the black of nullity,
And lovingly preserves each trace of long ago!
The sun is drowning in the evening’s blood-red glow …
Your memory shines through me like an ostensory!
- Charles Baudelaire (April 9, 1821 – August 31, 1867)

Head to the beach

And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on. - P. Shelley

"A morning glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books."

In honour of Walt Whitman (May 31, 1819 - March 26, 1892)

A poet, in its truest sense, is not simply someone who writes poetry, but someone who embodies poetry. - Yeaursuth, Wormmle. Yellowknife, Yukon, Canada. 1900.

Sea Within a Sea

It is easiest to find what you are looking for when you know who you are.
- Alstoph, Matin. Athens, Greece. 86 BC.

At The Helm

Well here we are, intrepid boatmen, at the the great in-between. The austerity endured thus far by each and every one of us in this valiant excursion is worth nothing short of the noblest praise. However I can no longer prevent myself from articulating the notion that troubles my very core, which doubtless you are already conscious of. It is, ironically, my own dauntless and absurd disposition that has allowed for this extraordinary task to be undertaken and I am forever in debt to all of you for your unremitting trust and assistance in my efforts. But friends, I fear our journey has come to its final hour. The unmerciful elements of the North Sea have claimed a great toll on many of our crew, while the rest of us are still at a great risk of experiencing the effects of untreatable ailment, of which, as i am well acquainted, are accompanied by derangement. As my latest forecast proves to unfold, it is my duty as your captain and fellow brother, to abort in my selfish explorative pursuits and prepare for the following deluge that finds such amusement in our toils. Tired and dispirited I no longer intend to grapple with the tempest. It may swallow us at its own will, resolving to put us out of our despair. Do not try to convince me of your courage, for I am fully aware of it, and it provides me some solace in this hour of darkness, but let me state with all honesty that it has been a privilege to work along side men of such fortitude. Should we survive, this malediction will prove to be another of life's lessons instructing us to reassess our hasty impulses that lead us astray, which so often are at the helm. However there is an ever-present display of defeat as evidenced by your countenances. Let us now find our final uncharted resting place in the shadows of the sea.

Thus, a wheel has been turned.

Captain Dunker Springfield of the HMS Hogwell, moments before capsized

Man and Woman Contemplating the Moon

(Caspar David Friedrich, oil on canvas c. 1824, Man and Woman Contemplating the Moon)


She was unaware of beauty
And her ignorance was her greatest quality
She did an impression of her greatest inspiration
And it was out of mind

Like living in a room full of mirrors
And dancing for no one

A thing is not high if it can be reached
I was a man dangling from a rising balloon
Content as an observer

The Moon is fashionable
Because it is untouchable
And still makes an impression