Category Archives: metaphor

It’s not that no one cares…

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It’s not that no one cares, it’s just no one knows what to do!!

It’s not that no one cares, from preacher to absent mothers to doting teachers and self help coaches.
It just that no one really knows what to do to fix the big mess the earth is in!! At the best some bury their heads in the sand or run away, to avoid the pain of reality. At the worse, some claim to have the solution with lofty ideals but unwittingly or sometimes deliberately prey on others. Selah

Both scenarios, and there are more, are only following the flow of nature as it stands today. An amoeba will move away from a region of unpleasant stimulus conversely, a lion will prey on another! C’est la vie!

It seems no amount of motivational training, or positive thinking can change the order of things. Do I sound like the preacher in the book of Ecclesiastis? When he says, “all is folly, just eat, drink and be merry” Aha!

Hence to the dismay of many, clambering at the base of the 3-4-5 triangle.
Scrimping & scratching, and even the guru knows, he or she doesn’t know, and feels like a fraud when eventually reaches out to the ones he seeks to help with a collection tray!

Anyway, what do I know!!!

© Lara Rose 9/1/17 (First draft unedited)

 

 

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Who doth not bleed red?!

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“Who doth not bleed red?” © Lara Rose 2016

A severed capillary,
As if by magic blood cells
Come together in harmony
And seal the wound breaking the spell,
Who is it, doth not bleed red? © Lara Rose 8/05/16


The New Real Women Show Ep8

The New Real Women Show Ep8

 


… a new galaxy

InstagramCapture_360485f4-2a00-4e03-87f5-7ebc1ae74f3b… reaching for a new galaxy, taking shape in the depths of our imagination …

… rhombencephalon: dreamy, wakey, medulla oblongata, pons and cerebellum …

© Lara Rose 2016


Shakespeare sonnets

WP_20160307_2460.jpgSonnet I

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:
Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament,
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding:
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.

-William Shakespeare


Let your light shine…

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The Fire of Our Spirit

 

WP_20160227_5780.jpgKeeping the fire of our spirit burning like a tree daily feeding from the sun!!
© Lara Rose 27/02/16


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