Into the Breech: ae freislighe

Let’s let go of sanity, imagining the reason appeals to our vanity and falls in the right season; making none too troubling what chaos springs from hating, from leaving at boil, bubbling, desires left too long waiting. Let’s imagine destiny a mere self-serving conceit to define the inanity that leads on to our defeat. Let’s […]

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We Need New Gods: deibhidhe

The end nears: the sharp sword dulls. Its slices seem less useful, the elegant, diamond edged glance of its dark dance less fancy. Though its blue blade is well-scarred, these wounds seem slight from afar; there are just two that make it useless, unfit for gambit. Toward the tip, the first flaw: result of a […]

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The Speech Not Given: a deachnadh mor

Sad, the speech he could have given for men dead and those living might have meant more, if believing destiny were a haven. In the cadence of his speaking, you could feel his heart breaking; and his way seemed to be shaken by the weight of great mistakes. As he spoke his wisdom wandered through […]

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No News: an ae freislighe

The news can be troubling: there’s always some fresh unrest, some great tension bubbling. Each day, I hope for the best, but still I keep wondering: how wise is that course today? Must we keep on blundering, pretending to know the way? 04 NOV 2010 © 2010, John Litzenberg. All rights reserved.

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Petitioning: an ae freilighe

The gods may grant petitions to endless years of prayer; not lay too strict conditions; in that granting, be fair; but it is not sedition to think them often cruel, seeing naught but perdition in their lessons and schools. Think of it as remission, when one’s blessings, like disease, or shadows of suspicion, do not […]

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Wretched Thoughts: deibhidhe

Most days I don’t mind the mess that fills my fancy, doubtless in its mad mire growing grand plans my desires demand; but today, the turmoil seeks to wreck my poor reason’s speech and turn to tares the flowers where I’ve worked long hard spent hours. Voices volley in my head; oh, that order would […]

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Ananda: a colgyrnach

The question that I have is this: If ignorance is such great bliss, then why are we sad, dwelling on the bad in a mad state of pissed? It seems to me we are confusing bliss with something we are using that’s in small supply or is hard to buy, that you try not losing. […]

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