Pursuing Truth, Goodness, and Beauty
I have sat through this scene before Witness to my past and forever future I didn’t move then – and am not about to now I simply lack the will to change I need to find my balance — and then set it off kilter At the core of every scene has been…
Each day breaks, as a wave would Crashing into my senses and awakening me to my bedrock of nonsense and idleness. I awake with a spray of anxiousness. I imagine gull cries to herald the morning (another wave crashes, then it lapses away without notice) I stand dumbfounded, uncertain, before another day I search…
In this dizzying, consumer-driven world where we are what we buy we are no longer concerned about what we create, what we produce – our being, our doing, our making life is a mall alley and we are challenged to put as much as we can in our shopping carts so, like DeNiro…
The vivid pictures of me in my younger years have all but yellowed and blurred, all details hidden ‘neath a smoky hue I’ve noticed I am no longer the center of my world; where once there were clear thoughts and purposeful intent, today, I’m no longer sure footed, planted but left with an awkwardly lean,…
click life’s a click away clicking away mentally turning over, churning out, burning out click: new topic, same perspective – need to refocus click. double click (let’s delete that thought) AND wipe clear that idea it’s a major shutdown fatigued – no chance to stretch my imagination or hide away in my gray…
None of us will ever accomplish anything or commanding, except when he listens to this whisper which is heard by him alone – Ralph Waldo Emerson [ This is for the hopeless who recognize and accept their lot ] How do you feel in the silence of the night? Betraying your own promises,…
At 42, I’m content. I am sitting in my easy chair, surveying my blessings My only desire seems to be a yearning to ‘freeze-frame’ this happiness Is there anything more to say… I think not… Honestly, this state of mind has driven out any aspirations I don’t think I’ve ever been so honest…
The shallow breaths betray my guarded uneasiness The heaviness in my chest The lightness in my head I fight this meaninglessness with hand to temple, eyes firmly closed A pool of bile churning in my stomach Until every mountain has been ground down Until every river has run dry I need to count…
muck mire no burning desire simply damp and cold feeling old and sick For what end? What’s the product? What result? I need purpose to provide focus and I need passion to produce results I want to shed my skin to redefine and refine to illuminate the darkened corners of my world…
I try to answer the question of purpose, of meaning, of what significance my life is I’m grasping for answers Life isn’t found in a summation, but in the right question. A person’s own self-exploration is the answer to life. O’ Oracle of Delphi, you’ve given us the answer in a riddle: Know…
Do you stare at the rim of the glass, and strain to see if there are any smudged fingerprints or lip marks? Or does your gaze settle on the rich redness of the grape and your mind wonders, as you count your blessings? I was told that middle age brings a new level of self-awareness….
The smell of a newborn causes you to pause There are no insurmountable issues, no unspeakable worries, when one catches the hint of the odour of innocence a damp, wet, powdery smell… With it comes a joy and wonderment and thankfulness for dreams and prayers answered There is a lightened sense of the present,…
I can’t seem to shake loose this stupid grin As I watch my son lean into the mic to project the opening notes he cocks his head to the side and lets his fiddle sing a series of double strings, then his fingers run up and down the fiddle’s neck and then a clear high…
Over the Victoria Mills waterfall, the spray awakens my senses Standing here over this precipice with a river of emotion exposed beneath me WTF, I’m lost, gazing, and just content to stand and think I don’t want to “get into it” yet the falls splash up and I hear Those questions of aging… Are those…
It’s the big, clear Lanark skies that provide the canopy of a million stars each night a comforting blanket offering up the knowledge that there’s infinitely more in this universe then our daily preoccupations All is quieted under the twinkling lights – absorbed in the space between here and there and that steely silence…
You cannot step into the same river twice. Yet we’ll harbour a hope with each reunion That there’ll be familiar feelings to wash over us Our greetings always elicit a warm embrace Smiles that drain away all time and distance And then we plunge headfirst into our stories Yet we wonder in our heart, wander…
Like a reluctant host, I open the door for the New Year Uneasy and unwilling to suffer more of the same This year, again, there is so much to close our eyes to: there is too much ugliness in our post 9/11 world There are too many questions that need to go unanswered, to…
It occurs to me that if I had an original thought in the middle of nowhere there’d be nobody to hear me out; nobody to confirm that the idea is remarkable – that my thought is genius which is why I’m here staring blankly at my keyboard and not enjoying myself, perhaps paddling my canoe…
inching forward? not certain (never mistake action for progress) moving, however; still alive like an amoeba housed in a Petri dish aimlessly floating across a sea of time really signifying nothing but the fact that I move inches onward Chris George
it can all be summed up by something entitled: untitled that’s it – so far there’s been too many blank pages, empty words and wasted days discouraging but for that inside voice that commands me to: start where you are. use what you have. do what you can. Chris George Chris George has released…