RenaissanceMan
Select Thoughts from a Liberal Artist
vol. 5

Woman

I dream to lay down my body and my thoughts at the lilac-scented entrance to the Temple Venus; she rising gracefully above the waters with majestic ease. I stand agape at her beauty - my thoughts of troth and my flesh aflame in worship. Her breasts suspend my breath; like twin rain droplets they poise and play. Her skin is of the water and of the air and of the sea. Soft with care her eyes search the place to lie down in my soul.

Women

Again, I feel them before I see them. Their cold-eyed intensity claws pricks of fear in the center of my chest. All boldness and fire is their approach. Stronger, I am all weakness. Taller, I shrink back. They command my place. Suddenly, their upended smiles open. A sharp sword of flesh is unsheathed. The noise stabs incessantly at the air. I am pierced on the ear and bladed about the head and shoulders with terrors. Running, I run. Yet, I cannot escape. In the circle of pursuit I am become both prey and hunter of the colorful comb and the waggling wattle. Powerless, I embrace my consequence like a steer between the rails, his eye on the lovely judas. Bitter-sweet is the taste of mingled blood and contention,and again, I feel them before I see them.

The Church

Firefly, firefly, up the belfry, up the spire,
Down the staircase, to the boiler, up and over baptismal water;
On lip and tongue and on the eyes, they thick themselves like Satan's lies.
And by the light they all become,
'Tis seen that flies and lies are one.

Proverbs

Avoid pretense at all costs. The life of the stage is best left to professionals.

There is no defense against the truth.

Whimsy

When at last did ever I see
So dizzy a stick as the bumblebee's?
He brazzes the grasses for a honey to suckle
And huzzes the clover - white, yellow and purple.
No line has he for purpose drawn,
No army's march to spur him on.
But only as his heart conspires, does he what he himself requires,
And that to wazzle and to wander
Into fields now here and yonder;
Until at last when down the sun,
What seemed a fancy is work well done.