Word of the Day: Inspissate
Inspissate (transitive verb): (1) to bring to a heavier consistency; condense
Inspissate (adjective): thickened in consistency; broadly: made thick, heavy, or intense
USING INSPISSATE IN SENTENCES
The alleyway in which the man in the black overcoat walked was enveloped in an inspissated gloom.
His inspissated, furrowed brow betrayed the anger roiling in his breast.
The inspissated air in the funeral parlor was almost tangible to those who gathered there.
Poem of the Day
HYMN OF PAN
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
From the forests and highlands
We come, we come;
From the river-girt islands,
Where loud waves are dumb
Listening to my sweet pipings.
The wind in the reeds and the rushes,
The bees on the bells of thyme,
The birds on the myrtle bushes,
The cicale above in the lime,
And the lizards below in the grass,
Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was,
Listening to my sweet pipings.
Liquid Peneus was flowing,
And all dark Tempe lay
In Pelion’s shadow, outgrowing
The light of the dying day,
Speeded by my sweet pipings.
The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns,
And the Nymphs of the woods and the waves,
To the edge of the moist river-lawns,
And the brink of the dewy caves,
And all that did then attend and follow,
Were silent with love, as you now, Apollo,
With envy of my sweet pipings.
I sang of the dancing stars,
I sang of the daedal Earth,
And of Heaven, and the giant wars,
And Love, and Death, and Birth—
And then I chang’d my pipings,
Singing how down the vale of Maenalus
I pursu’d a maiden and clasp’d a reed.
Gods and men, we are all deluded thus!
It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed.
All wept, as I think both ye now would,
If envy or age had not frozen your blood,
At the sorrow of my sweet pipings.
Thought of the Day
Perhaps there is love without attachment. It doesn’t seem possible. Certainly the Buddha loved humanity, and yet he was free of all earthly attachments. How does one reconcile these two assertions?
Perhaps there is more than one way of experiencing another human being whom you love or are in love. Love is an especially difficult word to define because it can take a thousand forms.
I like to think of love as an emotional energy that can take as its object nearly anything—another human being, humanity as a whole, animals, nature, places, even things like pizza.
So, the texture and taste of the love we experience for another human being may depend, in part, on how we imagine that person. The human imagination is a powerful force. How do we imagine a loved one? As a soul? As a body? As a complex of thoughts, senses, and emotions? Can we simultaneously imagine a loved one as a speck of dust blown aimlessly away in the universal winds of time, and also as someone in the here and now, with whom we wish to spend our lives, and with whom each hour spent is a priceless treasure and each minute an inexpressible joy?
30 Blog Posts in 30 Days
My goal is to write thirty blog posts in thirty days. Each post will consist of a Word of the Day, a poem from a famous poet (public domain only), and either a thought or a verse (or two) from yours truly.
First Post: October 11th, 2019
Last Post: November 9th, 2019
Wish me luck!
Every month or so, I’ll send a newsletter via e-mail to my subscribers. More often than not, it will contain a list of my new blog posts. You may find something in it that interests you! Or more likely, you’ll be bored to tears and curse my very existence. In either case, you should sign up. You may unsubscribe at any time!