the end

so the blog comes to a close.

i’ll be ending my entries and closing down the blog sometime in the next few weeks. it’s acomplished its purpose of getting me into the habit of writing each day, but has become something tedious and superfluous. for those people who read it, i hope you gained something form the experience, if only a brief diversion from things unwelcome.

also, if anyone wishes to read more of my writing just write me and i’d be happy to send you along a litttle something. there will also be a book of my better work availabe around christmas (self published). friends, you’ll be getting a copy as a present because i’m broke, haha. others, im sure we can work something out.

i thought it apprropriate to end this experiment with a benediction of sorts from a dear old friend of mine

For You
by Carl Sandburg

THE PEACE of great doors be for you.
Wait at the knobs, at the panel oblongs.
Wait for the great hinges.

The peace of great churches be for you,
Where the players of loft pipe organs
Practice old lovely fragments, alone.

The peace of great books be for you,
Stains of pressed clover leaves on pages,
Bleach of the light of years held in leather.

The peace of great prairies be for you.
Listen among windplayers in cornfields,
The wind learning over its oldest music

The peace of great seas be for you.
Wait on a hook of land, a rock footing
For you, wait in the salt wash.

The peace of great mountains be for you,
The sleep and the eyesight of eagles,
Sheet mist shadows and the long look across.

The peace of great hearts be for you,
Valves of the blood of the sun,
Pumps of the strongest wants we cry.

The peace of great silhouettes be for you,
Shadow dancers alive in your blood now,
Alive and crying, “Let us out, let us out.”

The peace of great changes be for you.
Whisper, Oh beginners in the hills.
Tumble, Oh cubs—to-morrow belongs to you.

The peace of great loves be for you.
Rain, soak these roots; wind, shatter the dry rot.
Bars of sunlight, grips of the earth, hug these.

The peace of great ghosts be for you,
Phantoms of night-gray eyes, ready to go
To the fog-star dumps, to the fire-white doors.

Yes, the peace of great phantoms be for you,
Phantom iron men, mothers of bronze,
Keepers of the lean clean breeds.

tonight, today
the cold grey winds
bring rain across the sea
and for the moment all is lost,
but rain
and sky
and me

it rains hope sometimes
when i lie awake abed,
a billion drops of wisdom.

love discovers my falacies
on dark stairs of honesty and open fields,
candle burnt felicity in her hands.

Stream of Conscious

Hapless
whatever
rain dated salvation
rain over water
woe
walking on water
walking on ice
crawl
hands
handsome
comely faces
holy places
bare footed
messengers
opened eyes
questions
whys
global is a curse word
place
reaches
denial is worth it