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Mythologies as poetry

“There are now no more horizons. And with the disillusion of horizons we have experienced and are experiencing collisions, terrific collisions, not only of people but also of their mythologies. It is as when dividing panels are withdrawn from between chambers of very hot and very cold airs: there is a rush of these forces together…. That is just what we are experiencing; and we are riding it to a new age, a new birth, a totally new condition of mankind – to which no one anywhere alive today can say that he has the key, the answer, the prophecy, to its dawn.

Mythologies, in other words, mythologies and religions are great poems and, when recognized as such, point infallibly through things and events to the ubiquity of a “presence” or “eternity” that is whole and entire in each. In this function all mythologies, all great poetries, and all mystic traditions are in accord; and where any such inspiriting vision remains effective in a civilization, everything and every creature within its range is alive. The first condition, therefore, that any mythology must fulfill if it is to render life to modern lives is that of cleansing the doors of perception to the wonder, at once terrible and fascinating, of ourselves and of the universe of which we are the ears and eyes and the mind.”

-Joseph Campbell

From Myths to Live By pg. 263

https://www.jcf-shop.org/product-page/myths-to-live-by

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Terraforming reality, one book at a time

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“Fairy parachute”

Fairy parachute

(Note: Fairy parachute is a fungus a/k/a Marasmiellus candidus. Photo by friend and accomplished photographer Brian McDaniel.)

I found a fairy parachute hiding in the woods.

I looked around and found no fairy, though hoping that I would.

I looked about and under the trees, bushes, and even vines.

By the time I was done, it was dark. It was a quarter past nine.

I turned and started heading for home.

Only then did I soon realize how far I had roamed.

Any way I turned and walked, I remained alone.

The moon was rising high. It peeked through the trees.

A chill came into the night and a weakness into my knees.

I did not want to be alone in this light empty place.

If I had a companion, he’d see the horror on my face.

I did not know what to do as an old barn owl cried out.

Then a bat fluttered overhead and I gave a piercing shout.

I was petrified when someone said, “Come now. Turn about.”

Had I heard a voice? The idea was absurd.

I felt myself collapsing without saying a word.

“Stand tall, my good man,” the voice commanded.

“It is a pickle we are in and find ourselves so landed.”

The voice was small but mighty as if it came from far away.

But when I slowly turned and looked, I saw the old fairy.

He waved me to his little fire and I listened to his music play.

He sang a song and told a joke, well, probably a few.

Then he shared a bit of his grog. It tasted like morning dew.

I yawned and stretched and calamitied into a boneless heap.

Surprisingly, I quickly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

I first heard a bird chirping. Then felt a butterfly on my nose.

I slowly roused to find myself naked – absolutely no clothes.

To this day I made a mistake, one I unfortunately chose.

I never saw that fairy again, nor his parachute,

But if I ever do, I will be one big brute.

It is hard to leave a forest dress in your birthday suit.

What I don’t understand is why he even did it.

I doubt he could ever wear my shirt or even fit in it.

And my pants would only be good for a parachute.

There was no money in the pockets. I was broke to boot.

So, now you’ve heard my tale of woe and how I wound up here.

Brother can you spare me a shirt and maybe a pint of beer?

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“Illusions”

Illusions

I hold in my hand /

the seeds of my illusions /

and the blooms of yours.

.

.

#illusions #seeds #blooms #hand #photo #poetry #poem #haiku #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #june #thursday #062923 #2023

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“Tomato”

Tomato

Tomato are you /

the poison fruit? The love fruit? /

The myth of both?

.

.

#052923 #tommato #poison #live #fruit #photo #poem #poetry #haiku #may #monday #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #052923 #2023

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“Love is”

Love is

Love is as is rain. /

It’s work is not in what is /

but in what it does.

.

.

#live #rain #work #haiku #poem #poetry #photo #davidebooker #oldnorthknoxville #may #wednesday #052522 #2022

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“Precarious ride”

Precarious ride

Pallet-able or /

portable. Buss a bump and /

come undone-able.

.

.

#oldnorthknoxville #pun #humor #pallet #buss #davidebooker #may #poem #poetry #photo #052016 #haiku #052921 #052023

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“Ancient”

Ancient

In the ancient sky, /

dancing through the fog, the moon, /

silently alone.

.

.

#ancient #sky #moon #dancing #fog #silent #alone #photo #poem #poetry #haiku #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #march #tuesday #031423 #2023

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“Clouds”

Clouds

Burnt against the sky, /

the morning sun scatters clouds. /

Children of the night.

.

.

#clouds #night #sky #children #sun #morning #photo #poem #poetry #haiku #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #february #tuesday #022123 #2023

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“Waves”

Waves

Waves in the water, /

waves in the sky, waves hello, /

and waves goodbye.

.

.

#waves #hello #water #sky #goodbye #photo #poem #poetry #haiku #oldnorthknoxville #davidebooker #february #monday #022023 #2023

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Filed under 2023, haiku, Old North Knoxville, photo, Photo by author, photo by David E. Booker, poetry, poetry by author, Poetry by David E. Booker, Uncategorized