This is a cautionary graphic, courtesy of the League of Librarians. Please pass along as needed, and don’t forget to read a book! © 2018 Joe Blend. All rights reserved.
Jack Kerouac once said, “an art dies when it describes itself instead of life.” It’s a paradox of sorts, like the chicken and the egg, but it makes me wonder whether a writer writes a poem or the lines create the poet? Does ink convey an idea or do readers place meaning on the words? If a typewriter reveals a story but no one is there to read it, do the words still exist? Life is full of mysteries: never stop discovering. a haiku about haiku is like a chicken and egg…food for thought © 2017 Joe Blend. All rights reserved.
civilization chiseled the sculpture about genius in the world Throughout history, humans nurtured intelligence because we knew how we wanted to greet the sunrise and where we wanted to be during the sunset. Humanity learned how to craft a modern society from nothing more than drawings and dreams, and despite adversity forcing us to retrace our steps at times, we ultimately succeeded in shaping civilization into what it is today. And so it will be tomorrow. Blackout poem and writing © 2017 Joe Blend. All rights reserved.
Blackout poem and writing © 2017 Joe Blend. All rights reserved.