The chancellor kneels, not: The chancellor kneels, not for himself, not for Germany, but for ghosts in Warsaw’s streets— silent, unimpressed. The cameras hum, history clicks its tongue. They say humility cannot be staged, yet here we are. Willy Brandt on his knees in Warsaw 1970.
A voice in Berlin cuts through the Cold War frost, "Ich bin ein Berliner," and the crowd erupts, so delighted that they ignore the pastry joke until decades later, when revisionists gleefully inform them they were cheering for cake. JFK in West Germany, 1963.
Two men clasp hands at Verdun, gripping the century’s blood between them. Some call it reconciliation, others call it a handshake over bones. And the press, always hungry for symbols, devour it whole. Helmut Kohl and François Mitterand, 1984.
Adenauer, unyielding, steps onto the carpet meant for victors, pretending it was his all along. A gesture so bold that even protocol looks the other way, muttering about audacity.
Donald enters, a maestro of pantomime, mocking and mimicking, small hands waving, exaggerations towering. Some call it leadership, others call it performance art. Either way, the audience keeps clapping.
History moves, but the theatre remains, a stage of gestures and grand illusions— each one a waving handy 'kerchief touché, offered in jest, accepted as truth.
You are absolutely, basically: You are absolutely, basically My Sweet Virtual Aunty (Who shares the same name, by the way) and I cannot claim that effort were a test, in sodomizing my New-Earth, speaking simplest signals, StarShip, to palpitate my presence, she herself appears stunningly on the Cosmic Night of our mighty fire-wreath... Darling please...
Oh my, thank you so much: Oh my, thank you so much Patricia... this has been peeled deftly but with such artistic care and devotion... over many such encounters progressive and intercalating, organically developing and blooming... a lifelong lifestyle even. Most appreciated as always
Party Advertisement!!: A boundless honor, Oh Sykik Samurai, to be granted such a grip, on allied stick and garment, a hoot-a-toot to Salsa Disco Deva Paradíso!!
The connection you described,: The connection you described, with shimmering cadence and timeless elegance, is precious beyond words.
Free from pressure and pretense and needy “love”, there is room for respectful disagreements and ultimate acceptance. These are the friendships that are “refined” over the years and sustain us throughout our lives.
Artfully composed. Pure gold!
Coming from a virtuoso of: Coming from a virtuoso of words, your luminous insights and analysis is a priceless gift. Thank you for sharing my vision and validating, in such an eloquent way, my message. Deepest gratitude!
I felt a calling to stop by: I felt a calling to stop by your page yesterday and now I know why. Thank you for your words of kindness and appreciation as well as the update on your situation. I will be praying for you with great urgency throughout the month of June. Remember that you are a beacon and forever valued.
Here is a quiet revelation,: Here is a quiet revelation, balancing between cosmic vastness and personal introspection, making the reader experience an intimate meditation on existence, freedom, and the fleeting nature of earthly concerns when compared to the boundless universe. A truly gratifying read
...hypnotic, rhythmic:
...hypnotic, rhythmic quality—pulling the reader into a world where thoughts, sensory experiences, and existential musings merging; like Jack-O-Lantern and Pinocchio intersecting. The contrasts between physical setting and abstract philosophy enhance its complexity, making this poem feel layered with meaning.