"I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe" ~ Sir Philip Sidney

Honor, not worth a fiver to a thief ignorance thrives when hubris seeks fresh blood solemn with grandeur and pomposity tranquil as rivers run crimson in grief obsequious attention washes hands righteous, the faith of wet nurses who brood yolkless eggs, white as veneers, no pity burns with ashes cast to the wind, snow blind eagles observe winter year round, the sands temporarily stop, grains cease to fall temporality, a pendulum swings eternity, like honor, words thieves call religion, the sacrifice money brings shiftless, automatic actions soon bind eager beavers to build and spread good news rivers change ideas, flux, all movement flows vision envisions a kaleidoscope enter luxury in light, none refuse delicious splendor and magnificence wicked charity, dear, candle flame blows incestuous riots, eyes cannot cope troubled sight cites desert blindness, the cause hopeless without beauty, such opulence justifies disparity, the truth hides under the sheets, nightmar...

It must be nice to arrive at work on time, to wake up early, be consistent must be nice to own a business, hustle until late at night, when, as they say, bon soir in France, where the ladies dance, so nice to live abroad for a year, no one hell-bent bust a move, get it done, no more bustle elegant gowns and suits, all back room deals nimble, long fingers, manicured, roll dice in Monaco, the casino, money creates incentive to work hard, say less elective lifestyles while bees make honey tough to imagine, on the train, I guess ordinary folk admire big wheels ask me if I care, to say otherwise realize, as if the money matters remedy, in all matters, discipline inside the mind, with self-control, no lies visions of honesty, hard to believe everyone is different, a life shatters as a mirror reflects the mind, begin training to be better, maybe the best what lies, as to deceive, who will relieve objective correlatives of their art restart the process when the whole th...

Astrophil and Stella 1:  Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show By Sir Philip Sidney Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show, That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,— Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know, Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,— I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe; Studying inventions fine her wits to entertain, Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flow Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburn'd brain. But words came halting forth, wanting invention's stay; Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows; And others' feet still seem'd but strangers in my way. Thus great with child to speak and helpless in my throes, Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite, "Fool," said my Muse to me, "look in thy heart, and write." --- Poetry Foundation https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45152/astrophil-and-ste...