21 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 086 Smoldering incense


Smoldering incense, perfumes the darkness, murmured chanting, ripples across the silence
where offerings, of the faithful spread the roots, which actually hold the stones in place

Shadows dance, to the rhythms of the candles, living today’s memories, of yesterday’s prayer
Merit, for the lives yet to come

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24 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

11/24 Selesck, Turkey


As the storm cleared we helped put things back into place and decided to hang around another day.  About midday we took a walk into town and bought two bus tickets north toward Ephesus.  Our bus was scheduled to leave early the next morning.  All in all this was good company and I had enjoyed the time off the road.  I didn’t know what to expect heading into Turkey’s interior.  I was never taught in school much about Turkey.  (more…)

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24 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 087 Many times desires


Many times desires, have conquered me, changing the objects of my will,
but this continues to enlighten me, just and how I feel

God shows me love, a debt to pay, while unthrift fools, throws theirs away

I’m learning to heal, this given pain, a captive’s captive I remain
The height of it all, I know will be, to cry for those who wait to see
those allowing their love to still and search no more, only beggars at a beggars door

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26 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

11/26 Ephesus, Turkey


When I woke I could not shake that dirty feeling.  I had felt cleaner waking up on the floor of train stations.  It was early.  The sun hadn’t come up yet and Jenni was planning on sleeping in, so I headed off to the ruins of Ephesus.  That trek started out as a long dark walk.  Luckily I eventually hitched a ride.  When I reached the front gate the sun began casting long shadows but it was still very cold.  (more…)

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26 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 088 There’s always a place


There’s always a place, I find in the day, where I turn my eyes, to keep it away
another just wishin, for a little less pain …..  Just like the others, I’ll never complain

I pass by so many, who know not my smile, who look once, then away, with all their own style
I don’t want to understand and what’s to explain …..  I’ll never be, the one to complain

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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