Thursday

the memory of a stop sign

this row of lights all in a row
pretty lights across the water
lights in the sky, lights in the water
reflected in my eyes
in the sky a spotlight,
a moonrise, a helicopter flight
in the sky spinning
up and up and up away
ludicrous volumes
delirious noise
does not fade
away, like love
a breeze before a storm, cool
twilight before the dark of night
this row of pretty lights all in a row
across the water, a bridge across the water
crossing the bridge
a bridge made of light pretty light
a bicycle rider in all black peddling
the mist of history in his eyes, the memory of
a stop sign and belonging to more
than this
more than ever
across the water
a hip hop song in his earbuds, perhaps
a crescendo of hope, an ocean
of consciousness, an ocean within,
a wave crashing,
wave after wave after

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Tuesday

greatness leads us onward


'Hmm,' Sharrow said. 'Fate preserves us from greatness.'
Dornay shook his head. 'Dear lady, don't let the mean-of-spirit infect you.' He glanced at the tall portrait. 'Greatness is his legacy, and our hope.'
'Do we really need greatness, Mister Dornay?' she asked him.
He turned slowly and walked towards the doors at the far end of the room, and she followed him. 'We must need it, my lady. It is all that leads us onward. With it we may dream. Without it, we merely subsist.'
– Iain M. Banks, Against a Dark Background, pp. 151-152

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photo credit: baonguyen