Category Archives: Eldering
Papunehang
To the extent I can touch the more basic, the better to converse across time spans. My words may no longer carry the meaning I assign to them. What was the thing the Indian Papunehang said to John Woolman? “I … Continue reading
Precedential times
Many say we are in unprecedented times. Rather, these are precedential times. :- Doug.
You are writing a novel
I happen to know you are writing a novel, and preparing a blog. What do you think might be your why? What might be your who? What gift do you want to give to humanity? :- Doug.
Your bigger voice
My task is to help you find your bigger voice. :- Doug.
Converser generations
I’m a converser with generations :- Doug.
Our bigger voice
Our bigger voice let us help one another find :- Doug.
My productive period
I am entering my productive period. I am maturing. :- Doug.
Art-making quest
My task in art-making calls for ever more questing into the human condition. :- Doug.
Muffled Stonehenge
Inevitably muffled my voice giving offspring this invitation I gesture put up a Stonehenge :- Doug.
Pulls against a weight
My body pulls against a weight your muscles feel resistance conversing across centuries :- Doug.
Imagine falling in love
The measure of the quality of humanity is whether we can imagine falling in love with it. :- Doug.
Metaphors in verb forms
We’d ought to create metaphors in verb forms. If we are to bring our poetry and art alive, it needs to move, make, separate, join, destroy, stroke, punch, prohibit. :- Doug.
Many years are given
To whom many years are given, from them much is expected. :- Doug.
Greater age greater responsibility
With greater age comes greater responsibility. Responsibility to a larger group, perhaps to humanity itself, to creation itself. :- Doug.
Pull you up out of bed
These younguns can crack the books and crack the codes, but you? There are bigger issues, long-term issues. These issues are your summit, to where you have been climbing. Did you really climb all this way to slide down the … Continue reading
Poem as pruning shears
A poem is a pruning shears…to turn on yourself. You start getting bushy, scruffy. Then again it might be a garden hose to water some parts of you which have become dried up. :- Doug.