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In Praise of IdlenessBy Bertrand Russell

http://www.zpub.com/notes/idle.html

          One of the commonest things to do with savings is to lend them to some Government. In view of the fact that the bulk of the public expenditure of most civilized Governments consists in payment for past wars or preparation for future wars, the man who lends his money to a Government is in the same position as the bad men in Shakespeare who hire murderers. The net result of the man’s economical habits is to increase the armed forces of the State to which he lends his savings. Obviously it would be better if he spent the money, even if he spent it in drink or gambling.

          – Bertrand Russell


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waking up for you

waking up for you,
i still would know
the surprise and complaints
the sheets would make
at that prior disturbance
we had caused

these, and many others
mark the passing
of days pretending
to be summers with you.


Are you the orange peel scent of my good morning?

Are you the orange peel scent
Of my good morning?
Are there flowers arranged
In random yet just so patterns?
Are there sticky-note verses
Left for your remembrance?
Did that remembrance neglect
The lack of limits of you for me?
What are you doing?
Where do your thoughts progress?


These were the ones accountable

Always a reason, always justification
Each stone a sign, each stone revision
From all the cities in all the empires
These were the ones accountable

Precise geometry rules a field
Of truncated lives so marked
Always a reason, always justification
These were the ones accountable

Twenty thousand votive candle spaces
Leaves and moss litter these places
Each stone a sign, each stone revision
These were the ones accountable

Moss grows and fills the cracks
And the grass covers their feet
From all the cities in all the empires
These were the ones accountable

But there are always flowers left
There are always silent believers there
Always a reason, always justification
These were the ones accountable

No Angels to guard are ever called
No animal spirits, fetishes or totems
Each stone a sign, each stone revision
These were the ones accountable

Each name carved deep to release the dust
Each name with it a place from where
From all the cities in all the empires
These were the ones accountable

Always a reason, always justification
Each stone a sign, each stone revision
From all the cities in all the empires
These were the ones accountable


You and I barefoot dancing

You and I, barefoot and dancing and high notes.
And now so close no beam of light
dares sneak between us

Let me know each sweet thing you think to plant
Place sweet things on my sweet places