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|    alt.philosophy    |    Didn't Freud have sex with his mother?    |    170,348 messages    |
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|    Message 168,480 of 170,348    |
|    Ilya Shambat to All    |
|    Cobwebs    |
|    09 Jul 23 15:59:18    |
      From: ibshambat@gmail.com              Cobwebs, cobwebs everywhere        In the water in the air        On the branches of the trees        In the foam of the seas -        On the skyscrapers and towers        On the grass and on the flowers        In the meadows, forests, lakes        In the rain and snowflakes        In the desert, tundra, hills,        On the tulips, daffodils,        In the jungle, on the ice,        On the ears and on the eyes,       In the clouds, in the sky,        In the place where shadows fly -        Cobwebs, cobwebs take each part        And connect it to the heart,        There to bring them into light        And replenish it with might.        In the intricate designs        Live the how's, the where's and why's        That connect each part to all        And through pieces and the whole M       anifests the gorgeous web        Of the world, as spiders grab        By their ignorance and lies        Moths, mosquitoes, wasps and flies.               Spider! Spider! Speak your mind –       Are you gentle? Are you kind?       Are you, like they say, a fiend?       And who – you or they – have sinned       More and harder? Are you glad       For what you have always had?       Who has made you? Did he smile       To see you to be his child?       Or did he from genome make       What they thought was a mistake       Till your perfect webs you made       And with their perfection played       In the wind and in the rain       And, as insects went insane,       Made them vanish with no trace       In your poisonous embrace?              Cobwebs! Cobwebs! Here you are -        Be you near, be you far,        You are hanging everywhere        In the water in the air        Taking substances of life        And from them the truth derive.        For who made the cobwebs all        Made them grasp the mind and soul -        From the world, like from a fly,        To wring life and suck it dry -        And then make it food for webs        Or for others still, perhaps        Or for passion, or for bliss,        Hoping for eternal peace.               Spider! Spider! Take what’s here       Every laughter, every tear,       Every truth and every lie       And wring, just like from a fly,       Its quintessence and its juice –       Its intention and its truth –       And then make it live again –       And no longer live in vain,       But go where they’re needed most;       Walking through walls like a ghost,       Reaching minds and reaching hearts –       Just like arrows, just like darts –       Or like bullets as they zoom:       Bring the joy, dispel the gloom       And bring all eternal youth –       Cobwebs, cobwebs made of truth!              --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05        * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)    |
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