landscapes of the mind ~ unfathomable beauty ~ and complexity — © Lize Bard @ Haiku out of Africa
Day: August 17, 2018
May 12, 1982
Zooming with the
matchbox cars
Playing cops and robbers
Wide eyed for the fire
on the big wheel
Playing cowboys and Indians
Not caring or understanding
Gender differences
Just playing for hours
Carefree and not using
an ounce of technology
Sixteen Candles
“there’s something about wealth and privilege that makes you feel like you’re above the law, that allows you to treat others like they don’t exist”
Ducher Keltner, psychologist
“Six years ago, [Ducher] Keltner (a psychologist at the University of California at Berkeley) and a then-graduate student in his lab, Paul Piff, published influential innovative experiments that confirmed many of our worst assumptions about the rich and the corrupting power of wealth.
In one experiment, the researchers stationed themselves at a busy intersection with four-way stop signs and tracked the model of every car whose driver cut off others instead of waiting their turn. People driving expensive cars — like a brand-new Mercedes — were four times more likely to ignore right-of-way laws than those in cheap cars like an old beat-up Honda.
“It told us that there’s something about wealth and privilege that makes you feel like you’re above the law, that allows you to treat others like they don’t exist,” Keltner said.
William Wan, journalist
Next, they had a researcher play a pedestrian trying…
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Lucid Being
Scattered Beauty
They say broken is beautiful
but sometimes I struggle to
find beauty in those jagged edges,
fragmented light bouncing off
at imperfect angles and
pieces rough to the touch.
But I say
there is nothing more exciting than
putting together a puzzle
even if that puzzle is broken
pieces of your soul;
that isn’t to say that you are a toy,
it’s to say that there is beauty in
piecing you together.
©AnAnonymousEscapeFromLife
For more writing and poems, feel free to visit me on my personal blog – An Anonymous Escape From Life
Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Unsplash
I’m A Song
A melody has formed
Playing softly in my mind
The notes have haunted me
And now I realize
I am a song
I’ve always written poetry
For the music in my head
The music of my poetry
Demanded to be read
I hear a song
In everything I see
The sun, moon, earth and sea
All are musical to me
They are the lyrics of my life
They are my poetry
~The Tennessee Poet~
©Walt Page 2018 All Rights Reserved
Symphony
If I gathered each dewdrop glistening on the rose
put them to music and with my pen compose
a symphony of our souls, a song that holds the key
would you stay forever and listen to the notes
as we solve the mystery of how we came to be?
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places not yet lived ~
as the steel regard of morning
pulls my tired soul from dreams –
another life beyond the reach
of lowly expectation
stirs within the mystery
and I close my eyes again
flirting with the patterns
where faded roses bloom –
across some great tomorrow
tis there my longing burns
letters curve unsettled
on the page –
by memories returning
of places not yet lived
light beyond the shadows
of my room
. . .
Author’s Note: Those who know me well are aware of recurrent
dreams – of a house in which I have never lived,
on a road I’ve never traveled. Yet, so familiar is the dream that I know the steps from the porch
to the gate, the slant of the yard into the trees. I know the count
of roses on the faded wallpaper,
and the pause between drips into an old basin.
Once asked, ‘Do you…
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The Reluctant Poet 