Ein guter Reisender hat keine festen Pläne und denkt nicht ans Ankommen. - Lao Tzu

                                                               @ marceldykiert.com



Lao Tzu: Tao te ching: a book about the way and the power of the way/a new English version by
Ursula K. Le Guin, with J. P. Seaton

You can find Lao Tzu's text here:
https://astudygroup.files.wordpress.com/2017/07/lao-tzu_-tao-te-ching_-a-book-a-ursula-k-le-guin.pdf


Paradoxes

Nothing in the world
is as soft, as weak, as water;
nothing else can wear away
the hard, the strong,
and remain unaltered.
Soft overcomes hard,
weak overcomes strong.
Everybody knows it,
nobody uses the knowledge.
So the wise say:
By bearing common defilements
you become a sacrificer at the altar of earth;
by bearing common evils
you become a lord of the world.
Right words sound wrong.

Keeping the contract

After a great enmity is settled
some enmity always remains.
How to make peace?
Wise souls keep their part of the contract
and don’t make demands on others.
People whose power is real fulfill their obligations;
people whose power is hollow insist on their claims.
The Way of heaven plays no favorites.
It stays with the good.

“I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” ― L. M. Montgomery

Today is the birthday of the famous English Romantic poet John Keats (31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821). Tragically, John Keats only lived for 25 years, but in that time he managed to produce sensual and beautiful poems that have reverberated across literature and popular culture.



To Autumn

BY JOHN KEATS


Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.


Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
 Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.


Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

"I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one" -Edna St Vincent Millay

                                             

                                                            anselm kiefer "book" 



To see the world in a grain of sand
and heaven in a wildflower,
hold infinity in the palm of your hand
and eternity in an hour.


-William Blake

“Even the suggestion of swimming be stirring. Watch a swimmer pass a building with a pool: the whiff of chlorine produces a wistful smile." - Lynn Sherr

                                                   Stelios Papadopoulos, http://www.steliospapadopoulos.com



The Shell,
by Ted Hughes

The sea fills my ear
with sand and with fear.
You may wash out the sand,
but never the sound
of the ghost of the sea
that is haunting me.

National Day on Writing (October 20)

The National Day on Writing (October 20), an initiative of the National Council of Teachers of English, is built on the premise that writing is critical to literacy but needs greater attention and celebration.

You see, people tend to think of writing in terms of pencil-and-paper assignments, but no matter who you are, writing is part of your life. It’s part of how you work, how you learn, how you remember, and how you communicate. It gives voice to who you are and enables you to give voice to the things that matter to you.

For the past ten years, we’ve seen thousands of people share their responses and engage in activities around the theme of #WhyIWrite. Their collective voices are raising the volume on this issue. Now in our 10th year of the celebration, we look forward to our best National Day on Writing yet!

by: https://whyiwrite.us/

“Rien ne bougeait encore front des palais. L’eau etait morte.” -Rimbaud

                
                                                                                Bande à part, Godard, 1964

Share your Poetry at "minor literature[s]- stuttering culture[s]"

Dear Students,

minor literature[s] is now open for poetry submissions during the month of October.
However they might close earlier if they get over 300 submissions.

EDITORS
Fernando Sdrigotti
Thom Cuell
Yanina Spizzirri (also experimental prose editor)

SECTION EDITORS 
Kevin Mullen — essays and features
Lara Alonso Corona — reviews
Owen Vince — poetry

Further info: https://minorliteratures.com/category/poetry/

Submit at : https://minorliteratures.submittable.com/submit

4 October is National Poetry Day

                                                     photo by Jacques Henri Lartigue


I am alive -- I guess --
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory --
And at my finger's end --

The Carmine -- tingles warm --
And if I hold a Glass
Across my Mouth -- it blurs it --
Physician's -- proof of Breath --

I am alive -- because
I am not in a Room --
The Parlor -- Commonly -- it is --
So Visitors may come --

And lean -- and view it sidewise --
And add "How cold -- it grew" --
And "Was it conscious -- when it stepped
In Immortality?"

I am alive -- because
I do not own a House --
Entitled to myself -- precise --
And fitting no one else --

And marked my Girlhood's name --
So Visitors may know
Which Door is mine -- and not mistake --
And try another Key --

How good -- to be alive!
How infinite -- to be
Alive -- two-fold -- The Birth I had --
And this -- besides, in -- Thee!

by Emily Dickinson

for further details pls check:
https://nationalpoetryday.co.uk/about-npd/
https://www.awarenessdays.com/awareness-days-calendar/national-poetry-day-2018/
https://www.bbc.com/teach/when-is-national-poetry-day-2018/znv4xyc