*
Why beseech the wind that scours the spot where his foot last touched earth
For what cannot be?
Better to watch fine grit blow across the tarmac
And long for the sea.
*
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Namaste.
***
*
The Kamikaze’s Wife
30 Saturday Jun 2012
Posted in Uncategorized
The Dishwasher's Tears 
So glad to see you post. Your words send a sword to my soul. Your family is so lucky to have you within them. Keep sending your thoughts out to the world. I will grasp at each letter you fling our way.
Sue N.-
Thank you so much for your kind words. I can’t promise much but intermittent spasms of love for the world.
i hope and believe that may be enough.
yrs-
Scott
Paradox – ‘intermittent spasms of love for the world’ … made me laugh.
Everything, everything seems so unreliable in this world.
Except for things like the sea and the sky – and even them, I am a little doubtful of.
Your words, Scott, when they appear, are trustworthy and reliable – so intermittent spasms of them….are just fine.
Thanks,
Liv
liv-
ah, you can’t doubt the sea and the sky. they may not give what you are looking for, but they give what’s required.
more so than any god, if you ask me….
thank you.
yrs-
Scott
Lovely, Scott and haunting. Your words send shivers through me.
Elisabeth-
Thank you. I’m glad you’re still coming by.
yrs-
Scott
i love that picture, married to those words.
Kay-
I hope things are good out your way.
I’m not sure how you do it — string the words together, the picture — I’m not sure, but I do appreciate it deeply. It’s a good thing when you post. Thank you.
Elizabeth-
I hope I don’t lose it altogether. I think a fallow period can be good, though. I’ve been enjoying it,but I miss this place and everyone here.
yrs-
Scott
So nice to see your name come up on the Moon Community Roll Call, been missing your words and art. Hope all is going well on the home front. x0 N2
It’s nice to still have friends here, despite my neglect of it.
All is well, indeed. I am grateful to be alive.
yrs-
Scott
She looks like a human tornado, your kamizaze’s wife.
As though she’s about to take flight and tear the world to pieces with her grief.
Or, maybe, she’s just touched down after wreaking utter destruction, flattening everything in her path with the power of her sorrow.
Grief is like that. It changes everything. It changes you.
After the first death, there is no other.
I’m in love with this image, brother.
Love your stuff.
Love you.
Peace,
pf
those words, that image, how they speak to me today. you have no idea, dear scott, but it’s as if you placed those words just for me, made that art symbolizing how i feel, blown about, slowly getting to the place where i allow the wind to just blow, knowing i can stand against it, maybe even float above the grit, dreaming of the sea.
thank you thank you. love to you and yo and dear leader, all.
please please please keep writing here- whenever you can- your words are a balm. a salve. a soothing that i cannot explain.
please keep going if at all you can.
thank you-