About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
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Everyday Canvas
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"Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself."
CHARLIE CHAPLIN
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Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
David Whyte
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This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts.
December 12, 2016 at 6:23pm December 12, 2016 at 6:23pm
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Prompt: “The big questions are always the ones you can’t even ask.”
Davina Blake—Past Encounters: A World War II novel
What do you think are the big questions? How many can you come up with?
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The big questions, I think, are the difficult ones, to which we have no easy answers.
My big questions:
What am I doing here or at any place, at any time?
Why was I born to my parents? I look like them but I am nothing like them.
When something rotten happens to me, is it a punishment or a misconstrued reward?
Why does my mind trick me?
Why is the nature so violent? Why do we have to eat other live things to survive?
Why do the strong rule over the weak, in any species?
How does the rest of the universe or universes work?
Where do the energy parts of people go after this life? (I know what the religions say, but I want a straight and factual answer. 
Why are we attracted to some people and not to others?
Why do I feel embarrassed when someone says nice things or flatters me?
Are all coincidences, always or sometimes, coincidences, synchronicities, illusions, or what?
Why don’t we have world peace when, after all, we’re all in this together?
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