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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476739" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Life's A Genius</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Life's a genius. <br>Not a mediocrity <br>looking for reasons to live in the morning. <br>Life's not a plan. <br>It's a spirit that doesn't need one<br>whether things go right or wrong. <br>Life is light and water. <br>It delights in going everywhere at once. <br>Mediocrities have genius <br>but they don't know how<br>to play with it like a child.<br>Their eyes peek<br>through knotholes in the fence <br>but they sacrifice their longing <br>on the conventional altars of common-sense <br>and never throw the ball back over the hills <br>like the moon coming up<br>or the sun going down <br>without worrying about <br>breaking the neighbours'windows. <br>Life throws whole mountains around <br>and turns the cornerstones into quicksand <br>and goes down with Atlantis <br>only to come up again like Moby Dick <br>spewing stars out of its blowhole.<br>Mediocrity has its feet planted firmly on the ground. <br>It never goes anywhere it hasn't gone before.<br>It's the kind of fire <br>that sleeps with an extinquisher <br>in case things get too hot to put out. <br>Mediocrity shares. <br>But life's the kind of genius <br>that gives like an apple-tree <br>that fully expresses itself <br>through infinitely more <br>than four seasons <br>no two alike<br>without caring if it's of any benefit to anyone.<br>Mediocrity's stunned by the blossoms. <br>Genius tastes the fruit. <br>Life's the kind of fire <br>that doesn't have a root<br>you can pull up and take home with you <br>to add to your garden<br>like a new word to your vocabulary. <br>Mediocrity spells it out. <br>But genius is the dream grammar<br>of a spiritual alphabet <br>that isn't used to taking orders.<br>It doesn't have twenty-six words for inspiration <br>like potted geraniums all in a row<br>and only one for freedom<br>it weeds out like morning glory <br>and dandelions<br>whose vagrancy threatens<br>to overwhelm the rest <br>with a longing <br>for the happier memories of their homelessness. <br>Mediocrity's a highway lined with roadkill.<br>Genius is a river <br>that goes around <br>not through the hill <br>and though there are fleets of waterlilies all along its banks <br>that gather like the Spanish Armada every year <br>to burn the infidel irises on the far shore<br>back into the true church<br>they never set sail. <br>They stay anchored to the coast <br>like loveletters from buddhas upstream<br>rooted in the flowing. <br>Mediocrity writes a great poem. <br>Genius lets the poem write itself. <br>Mediocrity signs its own vanity.<br>like a work done well. <br>But genius doesn't have <br>anything to sell <br>that ever belonged to anyone <br>in the first place. <br>Life is the generosity of space<br>that blows stars in your face <br>and gives you the eyes to see them. <br>Mediocrity confines the muses to a hareem <br>to compel their obedience.<br>Mediocrity is a great sea without any tides. <br>Genius sleeps with women <br>it never thinks of as brides <br>because it can feel their power <br>like a waterbird feels the waves<br>breathing like the sea beneath it<br>wild and profound<br>cannibal creators <br>oceans in the black rose<br>dripping like the blood<br>of enlightened virgins <br>from Kali the Crone Destroyer's mouth<br>eating her own like the moon<br>as if she were life itself.<br>Mediocrity never includes <br>enough destruction in its creations <br>to be credible. <br>It goes along with the swans <br>like afterlives in the moonlight <br>but not the snapping turtles <br>that drag them down into the mud<br>like constellations brought back to earth like kites. <br>Mediocrity defangs the moon. <br>Genius flows down <br>its first and last crescents like blood<br>knowing one fang kills you <br>and the other heals you for good. <br>Mediocrity is hemmed in <br>by thresholds it never crosses. <br>It never colours outside the lines <br>into the negative space <br>of the forbidden white beyond. <br>It's never gone gone gone forever gone beyond.<br>It's a star with a lazy eye in an expanding universe. <br>It never reads the writing on the wall <br>between the lines <br>like fossils. <br>It's afraid of the dark. <br>It fills whole galleries <br>with works like arks <br>with two of every kind <br>that are signed like truces <br>it made with its imagination <br>as if the imagination <br>ever kept its word<br>to anyone who was afraid of it. <br>Mediocrity keeps an eye on itself <br>like a documentary. <br>It comes to the right door <br>but it never gains entry. <br>It's lost in the labyrinth <br>of its own fingerprints. <br>It leaves too much evidence <br>at the scene of the crime<br>and turns over on genius <br>at the dropp of a dime<br>for getting away with everything <br>like the mastermind behind it all. <br>Mediocrity sings like a canary in a coal-mine. <br>Genius howls at the moon <br>among the mountains <br>high above the timberline<br>where she takes <br>her first and last crescents off <br>like handcuffs off an escaped convict. <br>Mediocrity lives <br>as if it's always <br>making up an alibi<br>for something it never did. <br>It's easier to lie about a sin of omission <br>than it is to tell the truth <br>as if you weren't signing <br>a celebrity confession. <br>Genius lives out in the open <br>where everything's well hid<br>like a mason jar full of fireflies <br>without a lid. <br>Mediocrity hugs the shore <br>like a lighthouse <br>that's afraid of everything<br>it can't shine a light on.<br>Mediocrity shows you its scars. <br>Genius shows you the wound. <br>Mediocrity's amazed <br>that the universe <br>got as far as it did on its own. <br>Genius walks the rest of the way alone<br>and doesn't care if the path it's on <br>reads like an exit or an entrance.<br>Mediocrity looks for acceptance. <br>Genius throws the audience out the window<br>like an old typewriter with keys missing <br>and all its loved ones <br>smiling in the front row <br>as if they were in on the know<br>and sits down by itself at the piano<br>and lets the silence play <br>whatever it wants <br>all night long. <br>Mediocrity makes a big splash <br>like an inert gas <br>in a flickering neon sign<br>advertising one night stands <br>in a cheap roadside motel. <br>Genius shapes space like black matter <br>that stays hidden <br>on the far side of gravity <br>behind the leaves <br>that grow on its boughs like galaxies<br>that wait like nests in the treetops <br>for the shamans babies and birds<br>to fill their bright vacancy <br>with the dark abundance <br>of a language older than words.<br>There are lyrical swords <br>that have mastered the art <br>of writing their eloquent history <br>in scars that pre-date cuneiform. <br>That's one muse. <br>And when the dark mother <br>who gave birth <br>to the ten thousand things <br>whispered the mystery of the universe<br>into her own ear<br>she said it in stars.<br>That's another. <br>And when you listen to the moon <br>as she summons her own <br>like lost echoes and mad shadows <br>to the fullness welling up inside her <br>she sheds her eyelids like loveletters <br>she's read over and over again<br>out loud to the lunatics <br>like cracks in a dry creekbed <br>or a prophetic skull <br>waiting for rain. <br>She's beauty pain and death <br>all rolled up into one <br>black rose of inspiration<br>she hands out <br>to those of us she loves<br>like an eclipse <br>without an explanation. <br>Mediocrity doesn't understand this. <br>Three lucidities in one black mirror <br>before the arising of signs <br>and all it's looking for <br>is its likeness <br>in the meaning of everything. <br>Humans may have been created <br>in the image of God <br>but the world's not created <br>in the image of humans. <br>It's a lot crazier than that.<br>Mediocrity makes a habit of significance<br>to justify its eyes <br>to the nightwatchman in the mirrors. <br>Genius pulls the hat out of the rabbit<br>and the magician disappears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476739" data-title="Life's A Genius de Patrick White" data-description="Life's a genius. 
Not a mediocrity 
looking for reasons to live in the morning. 
Life's not a plan. 
It's a spirit that doesn't need one
whether things go right or wrong. 
Life is light and water. 
It delights in going everywhere at once. 
Mediocr..."></div>
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