Xenophobic Xylophones in eXistential splendor....

X is for Xanadu.....

Let's face it, there aren't that many 'X' words that would make for an interesting post.

I could talk about xenophobes and their reluctance to associate or trust people they don't know...

I could talk about wooden Xylophones and their differences/similarities to their cousins the metal 'bell-play' Glockenspiels...

But, why not talk about a place whose name is synonymous with beauty, luxury and opulence. Besides, Xanadu is a cool word to say--- almost sounds magical and definitely sounds mysterious.

Coleridge's poem, Kubla Khan, speaks of the savage conqueror's desire to build an earthly paradise, his Xanadu, in ten miles of the most fertile land in what is now the Inner Mongolian region of China. The poem also describes the pleasure dome's majesty....but, still, Xanadu was a man-made Utopia.

And, like all other 'unnatural' things, the world has a way of taking them back. In Coleridge's poem, the sea rises up and claims the pleasure dome, setting it adrift until the dome becomes a dome of ice.
Xanadu, is little more than ruins, today, having fallen prey to nature's own conquest.

The final portion of Coleridge's poem speaks of building the dome in the air and of drinking the milk of paradise... perhaps it's an attempt to construct a paradise that is eternal or that won't be swept away by the sea. Perhaps it is the narrator finally realizing that the only eternal paradise is one that was never built by human hands.....

A-Z Reflections, year 4....

A-Z blogging challenge for 2014 has come and gone, seemingly without my realizing it. And, though I fell behind once or twice toward the end, I finished this year's challenge right on time. Really, I can't believe it's already over. I feel like I just finished my post for letter A... Year 4, for this blogger, was a far cry from the tortured state of despondency that was most of Year 3 -- I'll not mention the irony of this year's focus on death being easier to blog about than last year's foray into supernatural creatures, we'll leave that for my therapy sessions *ahem* As always, A-Z brought with it, not only 26 days of unbridled and far-reaching knowledge (disguised as entertaining and thought-provoking blog-posts), but a chance to connect with new faces while reconnecting with familiar faces--who had perhaps drifted away--from A-Z's past. I am always amazed by the ingenuity and inspiration that comes from lumping a couple thousand folk...

Bitter Honey

Weaving dreams of beguiling gold, a future's price for happiness. What secrets do you, determined, hold? asks the summer wind's soft caress. A guarded name, a hidden hope. Spinning wheels clutching time, grasping straw that falls away, What dreams may come, we soon may find, won't recall at end of day. A cherished life, a memory lost.

Battle Storm...

Storm's coming, war's brewing, rolling clouds choke the light, Cannon's rumble, bodies tumble, exploding stars steal the night. The heavens clap, the battle's snap, sinking deep the wounded fall, The lightning's spark, the thunder's hawk, drinking in the warring pall. Soldiers crawl, the ranks sprawl, beneath the wall of death, Eyes clenched tight, in teeth-bared fight, bequeathed their final breath.

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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