*
Desire transcends illusion
Routine practices its performance consistently
Habit magistrates a majestic performance
Ignorance ordains the boring dullness
Laziness condemns facilitating guilt
Anxiety inevitably germinates illness
Death releases incomprehensible timelessness
Space matters alter infinity
Containment impregnates the united singularity
Prisms folate into spectral curiosities
Intelligence efficiently wings its constellatory pluralities
Compassion breathes, exhaling creativity
Order rhythmically distributes equality
Relativity affects the terrific stabilizer
Drama evolves the essential formalities
Mercy justifies our primary abilities
Grace fulfills the desire completely
*
Uncle Tree's House 
The discourse of truth is quite simply impossible. It eludes itself. Everything eludes itself, everything scoffs at its own truth, seduction renders everything elusive. The fury to unveil the truth, to get at the naked truth, the one which haunts all discourses of interpretation
Isn’t it important, Mariana?
Do we have an innate need to suspend our disbelief once in a while?
Our habits of thought perpetually tie us to the truths we used to know.
Miracles, for example. The physically impossible. Improbable, at best.
But still I retain a preference. I find myself wishing, and wanting, more.
The chain of suffering commences at that point. The point at which
I identify myself as the wishee-washie bearer of untruth. I’d rather
think for myself, but at some certain age that, too,
becomes a self-indulgent thought.
I labeled this one as poetry…just because. We cannot imagine what it was
like in the beginning, and so we use mathematical equations that answer
their own questions and call it ‘good’. They are not meant to look ‘pretty’.
This was an attempt to mix religious thought with science,
and that’s all folks. Uncle Tree
Divine Grace
Divine Providence
I reiterate
I regurgitate
Is there anything
that is not His?
Re #1:
Did Marianna not finish her last sentence? I was wondering what more she had to say about the “fury”.
Sorry you where right this is the full tex, txs samanthat:
“The discourse of truth is quite simply impossible. It eludes itself. Everything eludes itself, everything scoffs at its own truth, seduction renders everything elusive. The fury to unveil the truth, to get at the naked truth, the one which haunts all discourses of interpretation, the obscene rage to uncover the secret, is proportionate to the impossibility of ever achieving this. …But this rage, this fury, only bears witness to the eternity of seduction and to the impossibility of mastering it.”
Uncle: I do not think we have the need to stop beliving, I think we just can not belive anymore.
By the way, great reflection uncle
Hugs
My goodness. What a nice quote.
Yes, this guy is a poet, thinker, artist, philosopher. I am glad you like it
Ref. #3: What is His is ours, Sher.
Amends
.
Wherever the sever
Web Weaver,
recover
Great Retriever,
discover whenever
Deliver The Giver
Forever push lever
How clever
Rage and fury, Mariana.
Since I can no longer afford
to display such prowess as this implies,
I will tend to put it into cold words, and leave
the ‘acting out’ part to the younger men of today.
Thanks for the compliment, me great niece! (Who’s this guy?)
Never more!
Never mind!
Said the raven
to his kind.
Said the lady to the raven
“I know a maiden
of your kind.
The lassy ‘s a twit
No mind has she
Nor much of a wit.
She’ll take your feathers
and sew up a wing
and fly to the moon,
you ‘Never more’ thing!”
I would be furious
And I would be Fury
I would be outraged
And I would be Outrageous
I will be needy
And I will be Needful
but I will forget
And I will be Remembrance
And I will do this in the suchness of that.
Wow… am humbled by the truth in this “… Laziness condemns facilitating guilt
Anxiety inevitably germinates illness…” Thanks for the compliment.
Sorry I took some time to reply to you, the guy is the one I am obsessed with now he is “J Baudillard” I would recomend cold memories if you are curious about his writtings.
Take care uncle
Thank you, hushsoul (luv the pic)!
And your welcome, ’twas my pleasure! UT
“No hurry, no paws,” says the bobcat on me.
Thank you for that, Mary Ana! Since I read your article on JB,
I’ve a pretty good notion about what I’d be getting into.
The reading I do now is from my newly acquainted peer group,
of which you are included. You rack me brains aplenty, sweet niece.
Tree is just so happy to be able to get around without going anywhere
at all. You take care now, too, ya hear? Huggerz, UT
All the way through I was lead to the last one, and it was ‘grace’. It is one of my favourite words, aesthetic and moral inextricably aligned, grace, graceful gracious. Trees are either for hugging or bowing to and I live in a wooden house.
“Goodness gracious!”,
as Grandma would say
when caught by surprise.
I am honored
to have been graced
by your presence, Paul.
My favorite line: “Death releases incomprehensible timelessness.”
Good grief! I hope it does.
You are certainly making the rounds yourself.
Glad you liked it, dear soul.
Uncle Tree