13 Bullseye
1. Like Kanye with MAGA hat and cape? / Like an athlete on steroids? / Like tiger-blooded Charlie Sheen? / Is winning really everything? – Read the rest of my poem “Winning?” HERE.
2. After Kanye’s debacle at the White House last week, NPR came out with a reading of a poem written by Leonard Cohen called “Kayne West is Not Picasso.”
3. It starts: Kanye West is not Picasso / I am Picasso / Kanye West is not Edison, / I am Edison / I am Tesla. / Jay-Z is not the Dylan of anything, / I am the Dylan of anything. / I am the Kanye West of Kanye West, / The Kanye West of the great bogus shift of bullshit culture, / From one boutique to another… Read the rest HERE.
4. “Did you think you would never reach the point toward which you were constantly leading?” – Michel de Montaigne
5. My Facebook status last week: The Devil’s Triangle? Trump, Kim Jong Un and Kanye.
6. Trump “fell in love” with Kim from letters, and Kanye loves Trump because he makes him feel like a man. They don’t even try to hide it. Or maybe the Devil’s Triangle is a black hole vortex like the one in Bermuda. I know it’s not a drinking game!
7. Does “sorely missed” mean that missing makes you sore?
8. An arrow has a narrow margin of success.
9. Now THAT’S what I call a bridge!
10. Cupid’s Double-edged Arrow: It takes energy to hold a sharp focus on the memory of a loved one who has died. It’s like holding an arm wrestling position; after a while you get tired and have to give in. Giving in can be a relief, but it also has its own compounding sadness. As you return to your everyday life and memories start to blur, so does the piercing clarity that comes from living on edge, so close to death. Your loved one left you, and now it feels like you are leaving them…
11. Every death chinks away at my identity because my identity is intrinsically tied to those I love. But maybe life is designed to do that, so that when it comes my time to leave this world, my ego-self will have receded enough that I can finally let go of it all. – More from Cupid’s Double-edged Arrow HERE.
12. Not only did my 10-year-old grandson hit the pumpkin bullseye with his bow and arrow, he taught me how to multiply by nines using a hand trick. Who knew? See HERE.
13. If you wait long enough every style comes back into fashion. Same with Blog Titles. HERE is the first 13 Bullseye.
__________Thirteen Thursday
October 17th, 2018 10:20 am
Yowza. Twofer!
October 17th, 2018 10:34 am
My, your grandson has grown! But of course.
I like the poem. People have gone of the rails, thinking money and power are everything. Even Goldfinger was “winning” before 007 stopped him.
October 17th, 2018 3:06 pm
11 i believe so
October 17th, 2018 4:53 pm
I need to copy your double edged sword post… so beautifully expressed and has personal meaning to me (as it should — or will — for everyone.) My brother predeceased both our parents and was the first family death. Still now, over 20 years later I think sometimes about our childhood — and realize all over again that I have nobody to talk to about it. And then realize that I can’t remember for a minute what he looked like as a grownup. And then I wonder how long the gift of years we’ve been given will last …. .
October 17th, 2018 10:41 pm
That’s an impressive arrow. Maybe it’s just the angle of the photo, but it looks extra long.
I’d love to walk on that bridge just to feel what it’s like to put yourself in such hands.
And yes, to miss sorely is to become sore from missing someone.
October 17th, 2018 10:56 pm
Thanks for 9’s trick. 9×7 and 9×6 has always given me trouble. As for feeling sore for missing someone, yes I have and do. Sometimes I’m sore as in fuming, other times as in physically hurting. I like that Leonard Cohen poem it eases the disgust I feel.
October 18th, 2018 9:37 pm
This quote manages to be simultaneously chilling and hopeful. I love it. “Did you think you would never reach the point toward which you were constantly leading?” – Michel de Montaigne”
October 19th, 2018 11:53 am
You always hit the bullseye with your posts, Colleen. It’s been amazing to watch your grandchildren grow up on the blog. I remember when they were born!