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The Adventures of Christopher Columbus

ChristopherColumbus

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Meeting the sexy bookworm for a date tonight. Our first date, but it feels like the second as we seemed to have a solid connection when I first met her in the bookshop. Recently, of the three women I've approached, I've secured dates with all of them. I think this is due to first of all being selective, then being relaxed and having something of an 'instant' date there and then... building some rappart, and then waiting for a few days before making contact.

I have a 2 week holiday planned, so will be interesting to see if they are still interested in seeing me when I get back. I think there is a lot to be said for giving women some space and time to develop feelings.
 

ChristopherColumbus

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On holiday in my home country at the moment, and have been striking up the odd conversation in coffee shops. I guess I do this to keep my skills honed more than anything else. I find I have zero hesitancy and zero nervousness, and accordingly have them chatting away merrily within a few minutes until I tire of the conversation a half hour later. It's nice to now I can turn it on when I need to. When I get back to Korea, I'll keep my powder dry for the women I'm really interested in pursuing. Now that I seem to be able to get dates easily enough, I just have to learn to be way more selective. I'm thinking as a general rule that I should not even bother myself with the 20 somethings, and focus on the 30 somethings. Never go for the date for the date's sake.

Also going to go on a major health offensive... less coffee, healthier food, better sleep, and more physical exercise.


Returning to my hometown on the sea
After a transcontinental flight,
I drift back through the years that flew by brief,
And find I’m just along for the ride.
I catch fleeting glimpses here and there,
Of milestones measuring yesterday’s years,
And of a younger self that sat on dunes to muse
On what an older self might turn out to prove.
But nothing much has essentially changed,
In the summer sun, I find I'm the same,
Though more contemplative of the past,
For future flights can never last.
 
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resilient

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Also going to go on a major health offensive... less coffee, healthier food, better sleep, and more physical exercise
That is good. I gave up soda at NYE and haven't looked back. I have one cup of coffee a day yet would like to cut back to sleepy weekday mornings or transition to green tea.

Sleep is a good goal and will help to calibrate convo when your mind feels relaxed and rested.

Exercise will help manage any latent stress/anxiety, confidence, SMV.

I know you write poetry, what about meditation or prayer before bed time? That helps my brain "empty" before turning the lights out for sleep. I also use a lavender/sleep blend essential oil diffuser next to my night stand. When I'm really worked up, I'll take 5mg of melatonin or use concentrated magnesium spray on hands then rub behind the earlobes.
 

ChristopherColumbus

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That is good. I gave up soda at NYE and haven't looked back. I have one cup of coffee a day yet would like to cut back to sleepy weekday mornings or transition to green tea. Sleep is a good goal and will help to calibrate convo. Exercise will help manage any latent stress/anxiety, confidence, SMV. I know you write poetry, what about meditation or prayer before bed time? I help that helps brain empty before turning the lights out for sleep.
Yes, getting into decent sleep patterns will be a major goal for me this year. I have regular bouts of insomnia, and consider it the bane of my life.. ha ha. I've noticed that I manage to attract attention from the odd cutie with a debonair presence and a simple classic style. If I can improve my heath and alertness somewhat, I think it will really help with meeting the right women. As for prayer and meditation, I think some form of ritual is essential to be grounded as a man. Even reading [and certainly writing] I think is a form of ritual.
 

ChristopherColumbus

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The Old Tide

The old tide will come in on what we knew,
Or thought we knew in our heady youth,
To drown desires we scratched in sand.
And yet like the sea this strangely soothes,
To undermine the urge for something grand.
For castles built to crumble matter not
[Are lessons learnt first the last to stand,
Or of such impress uneasily forgot?].
In sight of homely coastlines I will stay,
Where our fore-fathers saw fit to find a plot,
Where round a hearth both gay and grave
They lived content in cottages of clay.
 

ChristopherColumbus

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A Poet's Manifesto

It would be odd for a poet
To criticize philosophy,
Or religion for that matter.
For his trade is one of belief
Beyond the penchant for brevity
[Yet he is brief].

It would be odd to ask if True,
What was penned as good or beautiful,
And would mock all mean reductions,
In pursuit of unity
[truth is triangulated].

If he is a critic,
It’s in service of a freedom,
That seeks to unlock language,
To see it unfold in novel forms,
Just as we see in botany,
Not to mention humanity.
 

ChristopherColumbus

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Give me a placid lake,
To a tumultuous sea,
With the flat-line surface,
That beckons down beneath.

On the stillness of the shore,
I’ll launch a humble boat,
Then try my hand at fishing,
And find whatever floats.

And back to water’s edge,
By the downing sun,
Where in a salted bottle,
I'll preserve the thing I won.
 

ChristopherColumbus

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Night Watch

Give me the night-watch any day,
Over the dark undulating grass,
Under the silent circling stars,
My sole company whilst I guard
Against that which seeks its prey.

I hear its rustle from afar,
Then again now coming near,
And stand alert with pointed spear,
Perhaps in paralyzing fear,
Yet spared I am from the spar.

I held my ground, it slunk away
To some yawning underground den,
To savage dreams beyond my ken.
I lift my head to day.
 

ChristopherColumbus

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Tell Me Poetry is Dead

Look at the blossoms that bloomed today,
On a disheveled bundle of sticks;
They come in the vanguard of greenery,
Which will soon unfold its tricks.

Look at the moon subtle on the sea,
That pacifies tonight restless tides;
It quietens all disturbances,
And on the surface glides.

And look into my eyes my sweet,
And read therein that which is said,
Where there's declared a mystery of love,
And tell me poetry is dead.
 

ChristopherColumbus

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The Inland Sea Knows No Tide

...The inland sea knows no tide.
...In Roman villas on Greek isles,
In luxuriant shades they reside,
In Mediterranean style...

I dream in anticipation,
For the seas are calm tonight,
And neglect all navigation,
To stare at a sky star-lit bright.

For long familiar with the place
As a destination far off,
Three months ago I left my base
To battle through the troughs.

I make my way by Moroccan coasts
Straight aiming the Gibraltan rock,
Atlantic winds will brag and boast,
To drive my bark back toward the docks.

I didn’t deign to dally at ports,
Nor anchor too long in safe harbors.
Even when I were out of sorts,
Such was the strength of my ardor.

The beckoning lights were sirens no more,
To lure from the long ventured goal,
And I sailed between the closest shores,
By barriers, and shallow shoals.

A few more days, the end is in sight,
Then a channel passage fast-flowed,
There I'll keep my instruments tight,
Once through all's sweet and slow.

Yes, the sea is strangely calm and bright,
Reflecting stars disguise the break.
On nights like this what's more to like,
I could mistake it for that lake.
 
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ChristopherColumbus

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Her Language

Her technology of language,
Half art, half science, half magic,
Will heave, and push and pull to win,
If it weren’t so tragic.

It wrests, then rests before the rest,
And is captured by a ritual,
Responding to an age-old dance,
And soon becomes habitual.

Her humanity of language
Half art, half science, half magic
Now lives and loves, and laughs out loud,
‘Spite it being tragic.
 
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