George R.R. Martin is quoted as saying, “The more people you love, the weaker you are.”
But thanks to the power of the Internet, I — and now you — now know it was in fact Cersei Lannister.
Question everything, kids.
When I was a kid, I read the bible and a part that impressed me was the statement, “…God is love…”
(1 John 4:7-21 — FYI to put it in context here is a longer bit containing that “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love.”)
Anyway, “God is love” stuck with me and although I have been very bad at loving in general I do believe deeply that we are here to love everything, and that everything is beautiful and loveable in one way or another, from the right angle, perhaps with certain exceptions that you are probably already thinking about, and that there is beauty in everything, and that this world is abundant and generous and that the point is to do everything in a loving way from a position of love and generosity and gratitude and wonder. That the point is to love as much as possible, which is to say, to be as weak and vulnerable as possible.
Not to seek strength out of fear, but to abandon strength; not to seek dominion over nature or others, by bowing down to an authority figure or authoritarian system but to open your heart.
And above all, not to waste a single dime on a fucking dumbshit Space Force WTF people seriously.
Category Archives: ferner liefen
George R.R. Martin is quoted as saying, “The more people you love, the weaker you are.”
Morning, so early the only light is along the eastern horizon, and fog like the ground is breathing, the grass and pavement, warm earth breath condensing and a fox flashes across the street and I follow it as it flits from ivy into shadow along shrubs into darkness and I follow it into the dark.
In this neighborhood of mansions, it must have its den in one of the parks, the Sternwartepark is the most likely, it grows wild behind high brick walls, the other parks in the area are manicured.
The fox’s tail flashes one last time and it is gone and the darkness seems darker as if it’s not morning at all, or was morning but turned around and I wander through this odd night, Mercedes parked on the edges of the streets houses dark but it can’t be a blackout I hear music.
But then I don’t hear music.
This building is vacant.
This building has been gutted for renovation, outside walls, roof, load-bearing walls, stairs and floors. Windows out, everything out. Wiring gone plumbing gone. A crow watches from a window sill in back.
Someone rich lived here once, the place is huge and it will be grand again but first, insulation, paneling, wiring, plumbing, tile and floors, ceilings, doors, lights all that stuff.
Right now it’s just, who is the ghost here?
The ghost never thinks he’s the ghost, right crow?
Crow flies off to report back somewhere.
Still foggy out, no moon.
Still foggy out.
The creature walks, the ghost, the spirit from the vacant house that youngsters see at dusk, over their shoulder or their father’s arm, watching from a cracked window, a curtain moving slightly in the breeze; it walks in autumn cold, clear autumn sun in a new winter coat and realizes, this is what color was made for, a crisp fall day – gold, orange and yellow against a sky of jigsaw-puzzle-blue, birch trees knitting it together with white and black and children in red jackets. The creature is eating lunch, cookies that are not what they promised and something with penne and curry and chicken and it walks a different street, past the artist’s mansion, where the crows do not know its face, not to avoid sharing, but to avoid interacting, and not out of some misanthropy (or miscoronisy) but because this afternoon demands one’s full attention. Pavement, dead leaves, brown grass, hand rails, green grass, tree bark, tar, a scrap of paper, apartment house facades, a mother speaking on a mobile telephone in a back yard while a small bundled toddler plays, facing away from her at an angle of 45 degrees, staring at something. One crow says something to another crow in a friendly voice, not a warning voice. A black limousine tailgates a black SUV. A man jogs past wearing a light summer jogging outfit – shorts and a white t-shirt. The creature walks.
Up while it’s still quiet, my tinnitus this morning is like an orchestra of wasps tuning their instruments.
Went into the men’s room at work to take a pee and when I went to unzip my zipper, it was already unzipped!
This year’s contest is closed. Thanks to all entrants, and all visitors.
I originally planned to announce the winners earlier, but then I got busy at work, and when I got home I had to make a couscous/vegetable dish that seemed as if it would go quickly, but involved a lot of peeling and chopping so here we are.
First of all, our sincere appreciation here at metamorphosism.com to everyone who entered. Everyone had sweet dispositions this year despite a few abrupt but unavoidable random (but mostly minor) rule changes, and there was no fighting or bickering, which was a big relief. So thank you, dudes, it was a lot of fun reading your poetry.
Before I continue: should the entry period be longer next year? It seemed to flash past this time, but maybe I’m just getting older, old people are always talking about how fast time goes by. Or maybe I was just busy (I was). Are two weeks enough? Would three weeks be better?
Ok, the winners:
First of all, to each entrant I say: we should get together for a coffee or a drink or something sometime.
By the way, when we were in Ireland early last year, my wife and I – my wife is investigating our ancestors and we hired a genealogy butler and she claimed to have found the village my Irish ancestors came from, a few miles outside Limerick.
Where else could they possibly have come from.
It felt like in that one movie where the cities fold up only it was generations of my family history, folding up neatly on themselves.
Ok, anyway, the winners:
Oh, PS: do you think the creepy little clown drove people away? I thought it sort of captures the shadow side of the holiday, you know? But maybe that is better left to the limericks instead. I’ll try to have a more attractive graphic next year.
Here we are:
Honorable mention goes to Cj for an autobiographical work about having Georgia on your mind. NICE TO SEE YOU AROUND AGAIN CJ!!! Have fun in Tbilisi.
Third place goes to TH who is apparently saving those worse limericks he was working on for next year’s contest. See you next year TH (if not before).
Dee gets the silver medal: three really fine limericks and hit a lot of the bonus themes as well. I was really happy to see you contributing, Dee.
Perry Iles takes first place this year, due only secondarily to one of the secret rules of this contest (“Perry always wins”) and primarily to both the quality and quantity of his entries, and his admirable ability to turn on a dime and incorporate new bonus themes as they arise, and also his occasional fucking with scansion, which made me LOL.
See you all next year. Thanks again!
Welcome to the 2017 edition of the metamorphosism.com International Limerick Contest.
Please leave your entries in the comments to this post.
Enter as often as you like.
This year’s theme: CURRENT EVENTS, plus bonus themes to be added as the contest progresses
All participants, new and seasoned veterans, are encouraged to consult the combined FAQ/rules below BECAUSE THEY CHANGE WHILE THE CONTEST IS GOING ON.
No one knows why.
- Does it have to be a limerick? YES. This is strictly enforced, and non-limericks will not be accepted. Google proper limerick form if you are not sure.
- How do I enter? POST YOUR ENTRY OR ENTRIES in the comments to this post. Click on comment, or whatever is down there, and add a new comment.
- When is the deadline? THE DEADLINE is 14 February 2017
- Do you mean 12 midnight on the night of the 13th or midnight on the night of the 14th? And which time zone shall have seisin of jurisdiction? We have had considerably confusion in the past! NINE AM (CENTRAL EUROPEAN TIME) 14 February 2017.
- Oh by the way, I have a Quince tree on Cranes Lane. I think I should get a multiplier for that fact. No, sorry, that was last year. Secret multiplier in place.
- Is there a prize? NOT YET but that might change.
- Is there a limit to how often I can enter? NO. Enter as often as you like. The more often you enter, the better your chances.
- HOWEVER ONLY ORIGINAL ENTRIES ARE ACCEPTED. PLAGIARISM RESULTS IN DISQUALIFICATION. No exceptions made for members of the First Family.
- Can entries be bawdy? YES, absolutely. These are limericks, they can be bawdy, gross, you name it. It’s not required, but it is in the nature of the genre. ALSO: this is for St. Valentine’s Day so points awarded for love/romance/sex-related poetry.
- Complaints will be deleted. There is no avenue of appeal. Decisions of the judges are final. Be nice, and have fun, and don’t take this too seriously.
- Is there anything else I can do to be deleted? Yes. Besides complaints, anything else that is not a limerick will also be deleted, especially anything remotely similar to trolling, nastiness or disagreeing with me. That will get you deleted, and whatever else our technicians here can think up. This is meant to be a fun, light-hearted, non-political past-time.
- Let’s see, what else? Oh yes.
- Bonus points are awarded for inclusion of themes listed below (No limit to how many themes you may include, the more the better):
- Last-minute addition: Scottish insults (particularly in combination with USAmerican politics..)
- Current events i.e. tacky kakistocracy, apocaplexia, alternative facts,
Trump,etc etc etc think of it as catharsis. Use of the phrase “tacky kakistocracy” or something even better
- Utopian visions
- Musical genres (see here for ideas, thanks Carola!)
- Cormac McCarthy, Don DeLillo, William Gibson et al
- Field dependence vs field independence
- Quantum theory
- The Tibetan Book of the Dead
- William S. Burroughs
- Funeral planning
- (More themes to come, watch this space.)
By entering you grant metamorphosism.com permission to publish your entry electronically on metamorphosism.com, in social media (including but not limited to twitter.com, facebook.com and anything else) as well as in book form, although the latter is REALLY unlikely, without compensation (this is a non-profit venture, and any possible, although unlikely, book would be, you know, for charity most likely).
AS ALWAYS, RULES ARE SUBJECT TO CONSTANT CHANGE DURING THE CONTEST, SO CHECK BACK OFTEN.
Now, get cracking.