teadog1425: (writing)
Well apparently, it also appears to be Poetry Tuesday - so, here's another!  This one is for me and Marco!  <3 <3 <3

The Journey to Ithaca

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon — do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.

-Constantine P. Cavafy (1911)

(via Chris Guillebeau here and here)

teadog1425: (writing)
A fun creative thing - answer the questions here, and the website creates you an instant poem!  http://bentlily.com/instapoem/

My poem (http://bentlily.com/instapoems/pz0bghvuxupo68lj6) and below!  :))


Happiness:

It was the day we laughed so hard
we made the lavender bloom

I was five
it was crisp and clear

we were running like horses
a game of make-believe
happiness all balled up in our hands
shooting out of us in shrieks and bellows

I'm a cat
she declared

and I decided I was too

a fire-starter cat
with nothing to do
but chase the wind

they say it whips you in the face
but this isn’t how it works
if you run hard enough
the wind bores right into you

I don’t remember anything else
except the smell of the sun
sweet as meringues



the wind carried the rest away.

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