tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55244984796703612662024-03-05T06:20:01.669-08:00Orangeupurple?Poetry and art anyone? And a few other things along the way. . .Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger441125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-12145786255046251672021-12-06T09:08:00.001-08:002021-12-06T09:08:41.844-08:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8tmoILooK7i2VUAYGmR9NEXT0uDPct3kDNznDg4FcjObTvfVDk23_1V5gSoxfhrpklwpjzmsGh30vuvGhyphenhyphenR_vi-9lSRcY8KIFlvGU1pPtRN8oF_vB8bjpaun0iTDDVtzkRhlaXIrTYLA/s2048/fungus2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8tmoILooK7i2VUAYGmR9NEXT0uDPct3kDNznDg4FcjObTvfVDk23_1V5gSoxfhrpklwpjzmsGh30vuvGhyphenhyphenR_vi-9lSRcY8KIFlvGU1pPtRN8oF_vB8bjpaun0iTDDVtzkRhlaXIrTYLA/w290-h386/fungus2.jpg" width="290" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>I love your</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>woven tale . . . </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>it whispers thoughts<span> </span><span> </span></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>of life<span> </span></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>and connections<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>through a creation</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>of dreams and pain</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>joy bringing sorrow<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>and a fear of truth</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>. . . . . </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>for hidden in the shadows</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>is a weary womb<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>burdened by humanity</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>and folded within the<span> </span><span> </span></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>jaws of fear</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>and yet I hear that song</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">of hope and redemption . . . . </span></b></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span><a name='more'></a></span><span><!--more--></span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> </span></div><p><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-40136904117081011832018-05-28T08:18:00.001-07:002018-05-28T08:18:14.732-07:00When I Feel Lost<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZ1FLfSb49a4QsmH0AKG6kiyHkMvrigXnkXZCamue2wT5KzWyUGP0Zv6ZukZf2Hpsz5gxUHhFOCF8aeMc8Uu4pJnOIwCGEirAkxaTjpODilBbKpLejKLo6G2g3qag-telte_zS4dTolU/s1600/DSCN0377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWZ1FLfSb49a4QsmH0AKG6kiyHkMvrigXnkXZCamue2wT5KzWyUGP0Zv6ZukZf2Hpsz5gxUHhFOCF8aeMc8Uu4pJnOIwCGEirAkxaTjpODilBbKpLejKLo6G2g3qag-telte_zS4dTolU/s640/DSCN0377.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">when you walk down the path</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">in a sea of mountain flowers</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">up high where the air</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">is thin to breath . .. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">watch out for the turn</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">near the base of the hill</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">where the sand turns to rubble</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">and the stars</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">no longer shine</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-10f73322-a751-7118-131d-3233240528e4" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Some days . . . when I have lost my strength to the trials of my job and life and I am depressed and weary . . . I look at the mountains and remember that I own them . . . every one of them . .. and the roads before me . . . and the roads behind . . . I own the sky and all its residents . . . and the sea in all it's glory . . . the wind, the fire bow before me . . . I own everything; yet I am not in control of all that I see . . for I barely have control of myself . . . maybe someday I'll be a god . . . but not yet.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">hmmmm . . . </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-88381469339248642352017-03-22T07:22:00.002-07:002017-03-22T07:22:41.470-07:00The Seas . . . so endless . . .<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The seas so endless<br /> the waves so wide<br /> the eyes slide over<br /> the clouds, the mist,<br /> the shine of sun<br /> upon the rolling hills<br /> of dark waters . .<br /> the fish . .. the whales<br /> and leaping dolphins<br /> the boats that float<br /> on deepened waters . . .<br /> foam and brine<br /> islands and mats of weed<br /> and trash . . . this and that . . .<br /> how to find a small lost ship<br /> that sailed the winds<br /> and then did slip <br /> beneath the tides . .. ?</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3EZ4SMZi_A2NoWGdPFEdUtzQ1v8S60LPM5x4FMyy9AWajgAC_L8t6M2L8jRZY5vzWM-hK6K72aYJe3jt0M_mr3uaepJbu7rkAgboE0q0Zi2BpF0O6Is8lWcFST6D9OZqfM2gi9VJYnk/s1600/P1070835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3EZ4SMZi_A2NoWGdPFEdUtzQ1v8S60LPM5x4FMyy9AWajgAC_L8t6M2L8jRZY5vzWM-hK6K72aYJe3jt0M_mr3uaepJbu7rkAgboE0q0Zi2BpF0O6Is8lWcFST6D9OZqfM2gi9VJYnk/s320/P1070835.JPG" width="240" /> </a></div>
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This was written when I was helping a crowd sourcing site, Tomnod, in search for a lost Malaysian airplane in March of 2014. - <a href="http://www.tomnod.com/" target="_blank">http://www.tomnod.com/ </a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-81016174944451543242017-02-25T07:34:00.001-08:002017-02-25T07:47:00.525-08:00Differences<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGpCJy2HNq3JpPzz_X9Z5FnbHFmLILFHxBo3eeBk8wynnzf08dXzEKazv4YPoklvcL-dWQ9x1hhBEabYOF5pVB5SNAGDzW1LaMO__IfxjHL7lyKiBp765DlNC_1o5aSJU6XIIAlwqnlm0/s1600/P1040820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGpCJy2HNq3JpPzz_X9Z5FnbHFmLILFHxBo3eeBk8wynnzf08dXzEKazv4YPoklvcL-dWQ9x1hhBEabYOF5pVB5SNAGDzW1LaMO__IfxjHL7lyKiBp765DlNC_1o5aSJU6XIIAlwqnlm0/s640/P1040820.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>I can't change the color of my skin, </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> my race, my looks - just to suit you.<br /> This was how I was created and I like myself,</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> just the way I am.<br />
You are not the maker of humankind or elephants . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>you are only a
mere mortal . . . just like me</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> . . . just like elephants . . .</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> I
cannot and will not change my love to suit you. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> You did not put that
flow of warmth in my heart . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> my loins . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>it is a river, </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>richly
teaming with the liquor of existence . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>You are not the creator o<span class="text_exposed_show">f my heart . . </span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="text_exposed_show"> or its longings . . . </span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="text_exposed_show"> You do not know why the whale sings her song . . .. </span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>
I cannot change the foundation of my being </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> for you </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> - dreaming of my
gods </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>and living my laws which were laid on me from my birth . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> along
with my language and my customs . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>These were chosen for me while I
was still an angel . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> watching this blue marble sing in the heavens . .
. </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> I am part of th<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">is</span> kaleidoscope of life <br /> the differences of trees<br /> and stars<br /> and oceans<br /> The skin of this earth<br /> which holds us in an embrace . .. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> that . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> loves us . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> denies us . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> scars us . . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> and kills us . . <br /> We have only ourselves . . . to make strong . . .</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>
You can hate me, if you wish, . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> because I am not you . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> and I
will walk away . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> on a dusty pathway of love that lifts me<br /> into the ether . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> . . . you cannot change me </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> . . . and I do not want to change you . . . .</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>*********************************** </b></span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-24261679391003910832016-12-13T19:47:00.001-08:002016-12-13T19:47:22.500-08:00Marie Antoinette<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7oel_VKnlW3Y9FixZUdI1Jb15So46TFzByE9TeSFnEouXw_qUQiPVjkM6FZNUchLK0uuY0t_p_rAJyxUt8xadbQgK2SKSw-OU7F-lxgOAKQUbjNTtykuL-8HjF598oFsx2KCKeJMZnE/s1600/P1070607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7oel_VKnlW3Y9FixZUdI1Jb15So46TFzByE9TeSFnEouXw_qUQiPVjkM6FZNUchLK0uuY0t_p_rAJyxUt8xadbQgK2SKSw-OU7F-lxgOAKQUbjNTtykuL-8HjF598oFsx2KCKeJMZnE/s640/P1070607.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>I will turn my back upon the rest<br />as a pillow to hold my head<br />and watch the blade as it descends<br />to see its journey as it begins<br />to end my life<br />and give me wings<br />to find my way to the house of kings . . .<br />if you despise the way I laugh<br />when like a child I sing and dance<br />above the tree tops near the moon<br />where eagles rest<br />on aerie nests<br />oblige the skies with silhouettes<br />I sprinkle dreams<br />with dusts of endless gold<br />and rainbows to fold<br />their sheaths around the blade<br />as I ascend <br />or perchance descend<br />those steps of fire . . .<br />into the Hades <br />I do not know . . . nor do I care . . .<br />I merely stopped here<br />for a while . . <br />until I was forced to retire. . .</b><br />
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<b>you are the writing on my wall<br />the shadow<br />scribbling dusty marks<br />branches bowing<br />strong and tender . . .<br />charcoal smudges left<br />like footprints on the brow of time .. . <br />you are the laughter in my skies<br />clouds scrubbing moonlit faces<br />stars whispering<br />like flames dancing<br />candlelit sky my birthday cake . . .<br />blazing on the horizon . . .<br /> </b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-78043696319964584462016-12-13T19:43:00.003-08:002016-12-13T19:44:37.170-08:00Privilege . . .<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaVV5n35YGZ9m3gPO5x9I0zPRHKbijfjHFB9kxbsFm8nkYUVzB9PTbxZRcIydUwCXVPXzi7bQZKfElbvCsoa7SJ_sjFCKBFaLfAYyz1AzXc0QC7N5TZaxoryuQSoVn2txzZM64oVjlEbA/s1600/P1070646.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaVV5n35YGZ9m3gPO5x9I0zPRHKbijfjHFB9kxbsFm8nkYUVzB9PTbxZRcIydUwCXVPXzi7bQZKfElbvCsoa7SJ_sjFCKBFaLfAYyz1AzXc0QC7N5TZaxoryuQSoVn2txzZM64oVjlEbA/s640/P1070646.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>they bake their bread on the backs of your seed . . .<br /> and make your cities crumble . . .<br />they sit in black suits<br /> smiling<br /> with concrete dust<br /> filtering through their teeth<br />sifting out your bones . . . <br /> to make their gold . . . <br /> it lies cold and curdled<br /> beneath their thrones . . . imagined fires<br /> unlit by the stillness of your heart . . .<br /> your dreams un-mentored <br /> are flavored with the weft of their expectations while<br /> their road, endless and dark with shards of scorn<br /> and yours . .. have ended<br />beneath the bridge of time<br /> as it sinks into the river<br />of loss . . .</b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-41949010574924008372016-05-25T14:18:00.000-07:002016-05-25T14:18:57.239-07:00Slowly . . . <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyHBw7LOZMvI67zipHsdrRNBNF2fg1avh6SCCihHj69aWaMnNFPhQ08ofJH0vodh65_17nLC_yv63vtdxMo3E9XZbB-ENEssrq6YhfTAC9_EczOdzUsVnc4Vi6R1b9s9HWgIbE7c4NzK0/s1600/P1000052+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyHBw7LOZMvI67zipHsdrRNBNF2fg1avh6SCCihHj69aWaMnNFPhQ08ofJH0vodh65_17nLC_yv63vtdxMo3E9XZbB-ENEssrq6YhfTAC9_EczOdzUsVnc4Vi6R1b9s9HWgIbE7c4NzK0/s640/P1000052+copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yachats</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></b></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">when you walk down the path</span></b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">in a sea of mountain flowers</span></b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">up high where the air</span></b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">is thin to breath . .. </span></b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">watch out for the turn</span></b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">near the base of the hill</span></b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">where the sand turns to rubble</span></b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and the stars</span></b></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">no longer shine</span></b></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Some days . . . when I have lost my strength to the trials of my job and life and I am depressed and weary . . . I look at the mountains and remember that I own them . . . every one of them . .. and the roads before me . . . and the roads behind . . . I own the sky and all its residents . . . and the sea in all it's glory . . . the wind, the fire bow before me . . . I own everything; yet I am not in control of all that I see . . for I barely have control of myself . . . maybe someday I'll be a god . . . but not yet.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">hmmmm . . . </span></div>
</b></span><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-82552402603843004482014-09-01T20:40:00.000-07:002014-09-01T20:40:05.317-07:00The Voices in the Night<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCPdlza4TlGYWlrRSCeXluKAxjHm3LpUwfqXKeCGQvGFIxarBmioAe5EOMEVIRcGyrkOm9gctVzRM42cBRSCaOppSjGerqlqF3CuiwRXKdnPXQJ5vL6LGO5mWw4V9N35pf2NSn_VK5wbY/s1600/P1060514+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCPdlza4TlGYWlrRSCeXluKAxjHm3LpUwfqXKeCGQvGFIxarBmioAe5EOMEVIRcGyrkOm9gctVzRM42cBRSCaOppSjGerqlqF3CuiwRXKdnPXQJ5vL6LGO5mWw4V9N35pf2NSn_VK5wbY/s1600/P1060514+copy.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chihuly's Garden and Glass in Seattle 2014</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;"> I stepped out into the deck</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;"> at night</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b> <b>the stars were sprinkled</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>across that black sheet</b><br />
<b> above my head </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> in familiar patterns,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> small lights bright, </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>friendly faces beaming down. . .</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>so close </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> I felt I could rearrange them</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>with a flick of my fingers . . . </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> The crickets were singing </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> each voice a member of the choir</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> one in particular, an alto,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>crying out over and over. . . . "poor Pete,</b><br />
<b>poor Pete. . . "</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> their cheeky voices</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> thick with hope</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>some little ones </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> pausing for the cause</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>like bits of percussion weaving in and out</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> with an occasional fanfare. . . </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>A breeze raked her cool fingers</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> through the branches of the</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>trees - </b><br />
<b> bright at their tips</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> where they caught the rays</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>of the moon - </b><br />
<b> or the streetlamps . . .</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> In the distances all around</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> were multitudes of voices,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> people laughing,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>talking,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> music playing on some</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> odd radios,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>like memories . . .</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> my yard echoes</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> the night</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>with the sounds of the city </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> like a basin</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>catching raindrops</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> . . . . . . . or tears</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>and reminding me</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> with a whisper</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>that I am not</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> alone. . .</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> . . . . no</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> . . . not ever! </b><br />
<br />
<b>*********************************** </b><br />
<b>(<i>Written last night)</i> </b><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
**********************</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
(<b><i>I found this little poem tucked away . . . without knowing its history</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i>. . . I can only vaguely remember the feeling . . . the stars have always</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i>amazed me . .. they give me wings, strength and a strange sense of being</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i>one of them . . immense . . yet small - )</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i> </i></b> </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>I gazed with open mouth<br />at the night sky<br />the stars are thick and bright . . <br />there is an endlessness<br />an eternal peace<br />in looking though time<br />trying to find the middle . .. <br /><br />they told me that being alone in the night<br />not sleeping<br />not flying into the dreams of the restful places<br /><br />will make me tired in the day<br />and I will fall<br />down the mountain . .. <br /><br />but instead I floated away . . </b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>*************************</b></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-48361119989198551482014-05-09T20:25:00.001-07:002014-05-09T20:25:47.696-07:00Woe!<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Be not afraid to fight</b><br />
<b>that old demon Woe</b><br />
<b>for though he chases</b><br />
<b>the birds on wing</b><br />
<b>he can easily be laid low . . </b><br />
<b> his wounds are deep,</b><br />
<b>reflecting faintly</b><br />
<b>of lost stars, </b><br />
<b> liquid </b><br />
<b> and languid in</b><br />
<b>muddy waters . . </b><br />
<b> where dreams expire</b><br />
<b>as drowning swimmers' </b><br />
<b>leaden arms refuse</b><br />
<b> to fly . . </b><br />
<b>yet longing to follow the butterflies of Summer,</b><br />
<b>watching eyes stung by their</b><br />
<b> brilliant dress</b><br />
<b> tattered</b><br />
<b> by Autumn storms</b><br />
<b>thin wings </b><br />
<b> fluttering wearily</b><br />
<b>though bright colors </b><br />
<b> displaced by the harsh drops </b><br />
<b> of rain</b><br />
<b> or tears, </b><br />
<b>remain</b><br />
<b>as battle scars. . . .</b><br />
<b> . . .. your rainbow is too exhausted</b><br />
<b> to climb those busy roads</b><br />
<b>so you live in the grey, </b><br />
<b> . . . dusky world where</b><br />
<b> your long dark shadows</b><br />
<b> embrace you</b><br />
<b>and ancient dusty spider webs</b><br />
<b> entrap you, wrap you greedily . . </b><br />
<b>your beloved </b><br />
<b>grief rebukes </b><br />
<b> and paralyses your heart . . .</b><br />
<b>yet the gate closed to</b><br />
<b> your reprieve</b><br />
<b> remains unlocked</b><br />
<b>and on the side where shadows seem to grow</b><br />
<b> the sun rejoices</b><br />
<b> waiting for you . . </b><br />
<b>turn around . . </b><br />
<b> and open your eyes . .. let your heart inhale</b><br />
<b>step forward and touch the frame of strength . . .</b><br />
<b>walk</b><br />
<b>fly</b><br />
<br />
<b>the stolen breezes</b><br />
<b>kiss my face</b><br />
<b>with the scent</b><br />
<b>of new baked bread . . . </b><br />
<b>and the small bright flowers</b><br />
<b>cuddled in the glowing green grass</b><br />
<b>kiss my toes</b><br />
<b>with honeyed dew . . . </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-10814467081460148292014-03-09T10:02:00.003-07:002014-03-09T10:07:24.306-07:00HeartBeat . . . Three Poems . . . <span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjRs0_tCpaJdsgjikNp80Z-nzDlj-6NAdhmkxBK2YNWtiz-ei0QOcVLXG67Tkxb_W-n3iZvN9Oetv3svJwK4IMuWlbNF0MotukOFh7QerXeN3dJG9qZ0K0Xcin1a1Ve0TF8uvBasSTO8/s1600/DSCN9899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjRs0_tCpaJdsgjikNp80Z-nzDlj-6NAdhmkxBK2YNWtiz-ei0QOcVLXG67Tkxb_W-n3iZvN9Oetv3svJwK4IMuWlbNF0MotukOFh7QerXeN3dJG9qZ0K0Xcin1a1Ve0TF8uvBasSTO8/s1600/DSCN9899.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Three poems, unrefined . . . yet here they are in their boney state . . stark and shadowy without the flesh to clothe their skeletons in bright colors . .. I am uninspired and worn from life . . . but words lie deep in my breast, waiting to explode into flame . . . soon, very soon . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>**************************************</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>a murmuration of birds<br />a bonding of the seen;<br />whereas the unseen<br />lost in oblivion<br />dance on the mighty tides . . .<br />the book of Earth<br />written so long ago . . .where<br />time is lost behind the veil;<br />and the echoes of a song</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>distant in the wild</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>once heard . . . familiar,</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>the melody of life</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>a mark, a score across the vivid nothing . . . yet </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>a scarlet leaf tumbles to the ground,</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>an impression of disaster,</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>the sound of sighing</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and regrowth . . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>*************************************</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I would have loved you</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>if I ever knew you . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>but you were the petal</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>in the wind . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>a moment's brush</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>against my cheek</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>a pink aroma drifting</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>into the sunset. . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>like a forlorn ash;</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>If I had but known </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>would have reached out my hand</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>to catch your bitter sting</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>of foam . . . trembling at the edge</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>of the tide . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>the last wave receding</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and leaving you behind . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>to melt away</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>a mere shadow in the sand . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I may</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>have cooled your fevered brow . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>or set a broken bone . .. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>or knit together shredded flesh . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>If only I had known</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I would have gathered up your tears . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and planted them;</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>seeds of the tomorrows grown</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and grow again . .. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>all errors forgiven</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>all dreams evaporate. . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>midnight terrors . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>wild horses cannot stand . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>the spot you see against that shapeless cloud</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>is but a bird</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>of mystery . . . I will forever ponder</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>why she could fly so free . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>when I never knew her . . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>or ever heard her song . .. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>******************</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>My life is like the song of the drum</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>my heart is a pulse</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>from the time I swam in those salty seas</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and where I became</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and I still become</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I walk through life</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>to the beat of that drum</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>My march is matched</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>by the thrum of my dreams</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>the color red</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and the shush of the seas</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>water rushes</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and leaves rustle</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>the wind sighs</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and the moon lights</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and bodies unite</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>to an inner cadence . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I am not alone in that solid beat . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>as I grow older</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and that tempo slows down</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I see an end</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>coming ever so near</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and I know that my life</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>extended somewhere</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>with the beat of that drum</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>my spirit I hear</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>in my heart</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>******************************************</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-39963146350277026142014-02-02T21:18:00.000-08:002014-02-02T21:18:22.067-08:00Anxiety<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGeq6fgrxZnN715igjRDTRMgs-mX1MpWPssP0LZkLurKVXKqQHfUq020v9LPcQZ00Vs5rBV-N1FQJ3FYCU_o66dehW7pzbcqbBuMKXbLbtBeAhJrrc3CuBJ_IEV9iLv2WN2o_0cw5s8w/s1600/2013-12-07+14.46.47+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGeq6fgrxZnN715igjRDTRMgs-mX1MpWPssP0LZkLurKVXKqQHfUq020v9LPcQZ00Vs5rBV-N1FQJ3FYCU_o66dehW7pzbcqbBuMKXbLbtBeAhJrrc3CuBJ_IEV9iLv2WN2o_0cw5s8w/s1600/2013-12-07+14.46.47+copy.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>A chain of events</b><br />
<b>like plastic rings</b><br />
<b>fragile and explosive</b><br />
<b>they break</b><br />
<b>under pressure . . .</b><br />
<b>a small wayward movement</b><br />
<b>a drift of the vehicle . . .</b><br />
<b>inattention</b><br />
<b>waiting for angels . . .</b><br />
<b>the mind sleeps</b><br />
<b>as the eyes glaze over </b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>Chaos</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>anxiety lives in the heart</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>where the churning</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>of dynamics</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>shreds the wing</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>of the butterfly</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>and caves of solitude</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>beneath the crumbling</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>mountain </b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>remain unmoved</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>but what is cherished</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>in the face of change</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>is the power of</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>control</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>and who am I</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>to stand against the tide</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>to break the wave</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>to stanch the bleeding of the wind</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>to drop a fragile egg</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b> and watch it explode</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>There is death in</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b> the flower</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>as the beserker</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b> goes astray</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>black flies on her face</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>like tears</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>at the end of the race</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>no smiles</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>of joy . . . . </b></div>
************************************<br />
<br />
Must of been bleak that day I wrote this . . . sad mood !Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-62931025048798886922014-01-14T09:16:00.000-08:002014-01-14T09:16:53.630-08:00Thinking . . .<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkeT-oLAeJaOalnRsgdy4SF77yn10iH4qWUOh5jE1ZoTgjRj8oij7h3utI12GbQPUQz0c0LjryQ8WkoIpxAYA3Uy_CQiTl3RfsU0cDKifHKKn_UbHzbR4AyiYW4DaXkfmcDFgNlTSKm0/s1600/DSCN5527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkeT-oLAeJaOalnRsgdy4SF77yn10iH4qWUOh5jE1ZoTgjRj8oij7h3utI12GbQPUQz0c0LjryQ8WkoIpxAYA3Uy_CQiTl3RfsU0cDKifHKKn_UbHzbR4AyiYW4DaXkfmcDFgNlTSKm0/s1600/DSCN5527.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>The moon graces</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> the ripples of the water </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>with new white lace,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> crisp yet dynamic,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>brilliant, and reflective</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> of the depths of creation . . .</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>a song floats up </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> from the bottom of that</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>well - - -</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> to quench the thirst</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> of my raw cells . . .</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>I drink deeply of</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> cool spring waters . . . </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>my face feels happy</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> while doors</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> are</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>help open</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>and I </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> can find a way to fly</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>to the empty house </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> on the hill . . . </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> shadows filter</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>through the trees </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> like moths fluttering</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>against the darkness . . .</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> I am the star walker and</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> I touch these glints of light</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> as if they were stepping stones</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>guiding me to the places where</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> beauty</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>and love</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> wash the souls of the damned</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>and the song of eternity</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>reverberates </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> through the throbbing heart</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> of that which is;</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> and that which was </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> gleams like a frozen dream </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> in the empty house</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> on the hill .. . .</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>where memories, like dusty furniture,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> populate the stillness</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> and the stars glisten</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> with laughing eyes </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>through un-curtained windows . .. . </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> </b></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-77390083403468975762013-09-30T07:28:00.000-07:002013-09-30T07:28:56.572-07:00Freedom . . . <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFKaSD2Hlz4EZW9EtRakpGtIKW-vwp4xSnFywKy360OYx8yndeP0VGARCatnDN8do5nvjqwepxuVX5TwdyAQ6073DHaTL_r9_nuveDREjUh2ExZVKho0FTtZfmuwMrt63o6ctzCwqw2ks/s1600/pict+from+the+Lot+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFKaSD2Hlz4EZW9EtRakpGtIKW-vwp4xSnFywKy360OYx8yndeP0VGARCatnDN8do5nvjqwepxuVX5TwdyAQ6073DHaTL_r9_nuveDREjUh2ExZVKho0FTtZfmuwMrt63o6ctzCwqw2ks/s1600/pict+from+the+Lot+2012.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somewhere in the Lot, France - 2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">The following poem was inspired while listening to the music of Van Syla: "Finally Free" .. .. </span></i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>the eyes of the dolphin<br />saw the wings of the 'gull<br />as she flew above mountains<br />which shadowed the sea . . <br /><br />the heart of the dolphin<br />longed for those wings<br />to fly with the birds<br />across the great sky<br /><br />and into the morning . . . <br />down through the night<br />the dreams of that fish<br />were always of flight . .<br /><br />mere flesh,</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>feather, scale, and fur<br /> the beasts of this earth<br />never fully share . . .<br /><br />yet a heartbeat away<br />a breath taken deep<br />the warmth of the sun<br />a love that will keep<br /><br />a world of water,<br />as the dolphin flies,<br />she leaps with a grace<br />reflected </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>in a soaring bird's eyes . . .<br /><br />the joy of rapture<br />the freedom to dream<br />take just one step<br />you'll have your wings . . </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b></b></span>************************************</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i>This music is so beautiful . . it brings the tears to my eyes . . . it's perfect . . . the sweet strings dancing with the piano . . . it's a dream of a song . . . something to give wings to the listener . . . lift them up with gentle warm breezes . . . let them fly with the music . . . the heart is full of happiness as the soul finds freedom . . . a melody to savor . . .Thank you for the kind dedication!</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="170" id="widget" scrolling="no" src="//widgets.jamendo.com/v3/album/126041?autoplay=0&layout=standard&manualWidth=400&width=400&theme=dark&highlight=7&tracklist=true&tracklist_n=3&embedCode=" style="height: 170px; width: 400px;" width="400"></iframe></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-90888094187751834282013-09-22T14:09:00.002-07:002013-09-22T14:09:58.238-07:00The Sound of Color<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzfflhubHCCJ_VQN8zEPKQ9TpYsKjMHgvXiyxQhki4VdWss3Fc1-1qTlSmXKl061bMvOzfqWFVQ1juCQiNiEFpqplm3Yal8NkC5BSE4qEbTcNW3I5F6VhknVCNdk4359V1m6KIdcKLFc/s1600/DSCN9320+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzfflhubHCCJ_VQN8zEPKQ9TpYsKjMHgvXiyxQhki4VdWss3Fc1-1qTlSmXKl061bMvOzfqWFVQ1juCQiNiEFpqplm3Yal8NkC5BSE4qEbTcNW3I5F6VhknVCNdk4359V1m6KIdcKLFc/s640/DSCN9320+copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The sound of color<br /> dwells within the hearts<br /> of fallen angels</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /> a rainbow dances,<br /> a miracle song . . . along the lines of<br /> cracked glass</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /> on a still and quiet night<br /> you hear the rustle<br /> of wings as<br /> once again they try<br /> to fly<br /> and fail . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /> We are the sound<br /> of silence,<br /> the song of quiescence<br /> that sheds<br /> its essence along the breezes,</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>a whisper of a word . . . defined by dreams</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and moved by clouds . . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /> You are perfection,</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>freshly winged on Parnassian cliffs</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> and<br /> I am the forgiven,<br /> swimming through tides<br /> of feathers,<br /> . . . crushed . . .<br /><br />and crashed on hidden ragged boulders . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>beneath a sea of vision</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> and endless waters . . .<br /><br /> releasing a salty incense, </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> and myriad travails <br /> raveling from distant memories,<br /> deep corners of what could be . . .<br /> dark thoughts of misplaced treasure . . .<br /> a trail rims a sky reaching mountain</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> in the amber dusk. . .<br /> delicate as a moment,<br /> the flux of geese<br /> drifting south . . .<br /><br /> and winter comes swiftly </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>with fresh new sheets . . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> clean, yet, </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>of any wayward splash of ink . . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>*********************************************</b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOd-a-vw-Y9KJF9GB5hEYSDIrac5r2BS4qW32T7lDdwDetIpmnwOsCRB62Y3rDOmwMXeRIm4cyfpM1CYxydU9fnFqtgVkQvvOZLuwG8rY5E9HirUAJ_yX5iBhr6Z-HZ-NZzpeseA2hPpg/s1600/P1040040+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOd-a-vw-Y9KJF9GB5hEYSDIrac5r2BS4qW32T7lDdwDetIpmnwOsCRB62Y3rDOmwMXeRIm4cyfpM1CYxydU9fnFqtgVkQvvOZLuwG8rY5E9HirUAJ_yX5iBhr6Z-HZ-NZzpeseA2hPpg/s640/P1040040+copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-22156004498786637932013-09-10T09:19:00.004-07:002013-09-10T09:19:48.892-07:00"The Bus is Moving; Please Hold On!"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8azwheaEQhaRVdPqlv-SHcVeeJrhxKpwJFY08mv-dHr0nEJ3_JC71dVg0-QRwguehEsRt2nIbUfWMWQbHCRFAEzUZ_khMw0q9vTVlreoty9_hJPvy4QQFeyhxqpN2n4eJFZSE3tCsTPM/s1600/DSCN4035+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8azwheaEQhaRVdPqlv-SHcVeeJrhxKpwJFY08mv-dHr0nEJ3_JC71dVg0-QRwguehEsRt2nIbUfWMWQbHCRFAEzUZ_khMw0q9vTVlreoty9_hJPvy4QQFeyhxqpN2n4eJFZSE3tCsTPM/s640/DSCN4035+copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>So vocalizes the bus driver of my early morning journeys . . . a profound and wise observation of the whirl-wind of life . . . "The Bus is moving; please hold on!"</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>My friend is dying . . . her world narrowed in to the breadth and depth of a shoebox</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> . . . her grip strong yet slowly . . . like a flower blooms</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> hands open . . . reaching to the warmth of the sun . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>. . . she hangs on to these last sweet moments, soured a bit by pain . . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> yet energized with anger . . . "I don't want to go</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> I am not ready. . ."</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Like a small blue comma,</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>curled up in your bed of ephemera . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> you are pausing for just a moment</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> the clock whispers against the wall . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> still</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> before that last good-bye</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> you cling to the shreds of flesh</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> you call your own . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>the birds in the nearby trees,</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> sing your name</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> with the lustiness</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> of the well fed</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>and a minute humming bird</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> drinks from your</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> overflowing well . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>your voice may be shrinking</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>but your song still rises across the valley . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> a clarion call.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> Rest in the cool shadows my friend . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> find your place</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>where your head falls on my shoulder</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> I can be your boulder</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> of strength . . . when the wind blows</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> so carelessly</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>you fly in those breezes like a kite</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> of many colors</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> reflecting the light</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>of this lonely blue planet </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> like a lover's drop</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> of blood on a mirror . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> Your eyes flow along the horizon</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> watching the crows harass a hawk on the high narrow </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> stream of air currents . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The bodies of the mountains</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> cup the valley in safety and wisdom . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> where a line of shiny bikes</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> lead to your open door</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> and dusty footprints follow a pathway to your bed</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>where you lay</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> curled up under a blue blanket</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> and wait</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b> for your set of wings . .. </b></span><br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-41381596908517038442013-08-29T08:37:00.000-07:002013-08-29T11:08:45.572-07:00Fragments of Color . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8NER933MPz36kC1z4xLwcPzmBrx8aCcH0MlU6uML4xY_dhrDGO7EkFGA-LCOMPlbUrqAZ_NwUceuxGprnfN_zrEC-A5J6BK7EYX-SaBAPpxcC_TCUulcX_PhkI2kY2QMDfOTkzT-tLf0/s1600/orange.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8NER933MPz36kC1z4xLwcPzmBrx8aCcH0MlU6uML4xY_dhrDGO7EkFGA-LCOMPlbUrqAZ_NwUceuxGprnfN_zrEC-A5J6BK7EYX-SaBAPpxcC_TCUulcX_PhkI2kY2QMDfOTkzT-tLf0/s640/orange.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Thy quilt of many colors</b><br />
<b>define the hills of summer winter spring fall . . .</b><br />
<b>the rusty oranges, crispy browns</b><br />
<b>the truest blue of eternity . . .</b><br />
<b>bloody reds, rivulets of wine . . </b><br />
<b>the green of growth and whispering pastels</b><br />
<b>mere shadows of shade that falls between the sighs</b><br />
<b>of their creator;</b><br />
<b>thy paint is smeared upon the trees of god . . .</b><br />
<b>sublime yet vivid . . deep and hurting . . .</b><br />
<b>thy breath begs my very soul for room</b><br />
<b>to expand beyond the sills . . . beyond the dreams . . .</b><br />
<b>to points of light</b><br />
<b>which ne'er return . . .</b><br />
<b>yet blooms upon the trees wherein I taste thy flesh</b><br />
<b>like in a dream . .</b><br />
<b>the shape of winter . . . gives me rest . . .</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>************************************</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>The voice of the cello</b><br />
<b>warm, golden like honey</b><br />
<b>she flirts, with moments</b><br />
<b>of inspiration . . a dreaminess . .</b><br />
<b>a hollow deep within her womb . .</b><br />
<b>her fingers run along the tree branches</b><br />
<b>where water flows, silver and denuded . . .</b><br />
<b>she dances there</b><br />
<b>like a spark of fire . . . the eggs</b><br />
<b>of the moth</b><br />
<b>coat her throat . . . birthing into</b><br />
<b>feathery flutters . . . straight to the cage of my chest . . .</b><br />
<b>where they live in softness . . </b><br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://magnatune.com/artists/albums/eburridge-outblueamazon">Out of the Blue and Into the Amazon</a> by <a href="http://magnatune.com/artists/emily_burridge">Emily Burridge</a>
</span><br />
<br />
********************************<br />
<br />
<b>Imagine that you are a bird . . . newly created . .. <br /><br /> birds are born with short melodies . .. what color are you . . . what do you sing?<br /><br />Pretend that you are a babbling brook<br /><br /> cutting new corners, fighting a current . . . sparkling under the sun . . <br /><br />Dream that you are a star<br /><br /> escaping from a galaxy<br /><br /> dancing down a black hole . . . a new universe . . .<br /><br /> what is the music there?<br /><br />Visualize yourself under the sea . . what are you . . <br /><br /> what do you hear . . . <br /><br />You are a ball of fluff . .. flying in the blue like a kite<br /><br />beneath a yellow sun . . . you think you have wings . .<br /><br />and want to reach the nearest clouds . .<br /><br /> where do you go . . and what do the air currents<br /><br />sing to you as you flow . . easily . . . on your voyage . . .<br /><br />As you dream, you are the goddess of music . . . <br /><br /> it resounds through you<br /><br /> like the vibrations through crystal<br /><br />and the twang of a tuning fork pitched<br /><br /> to break air molecules . . . into the essence<br /><br />of beginnings . . <br /><br /> I hear the crickets<br /><br /> sing their sacred song . . .<br /><br /> and the heartbreaking blue<br /><br /> of morning glories <br /><br /> is reflected<br /><br /> in splatters of dew . . .</b><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
</div>
<b>**********************************<br /><br />Went out this evening to dispose of the trash,<br />the sun was about to set<br />and the colors in the sky made my mouth fall open . . <br />on a canvas water colored with a hazy shade of purple,<br />peach and pink . . .<br />and splashed with turquoise patches of blue<br />there were clouds dancing across the horizon masquerading as cats stretching after a nap, ballerinas in gray tutus . . . and <br />spinning space ships . . there were sleds and carousels . . . <br />and dainty mice cleaning their whiskers . . <br />a small bat flew by, like a comma in that sky<br />and a silver jet lit up with bright diamonds,<br />dipped its wings at me . . . and I foolishly waved . . <br />the clouds continued, in a line to pass and form<br />a parade, amorphous . . . <br />a grinning mask as the light began to fade<br />and just before<br />it all passed away, giving room to mosquitoes . . <br />an angel . . . kneeling in prayer . . .<br /><br />**************************************</b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-83534162104998516442013-07-26T22:48:00.001-07:002013-07-26T22:48:05.853-07:00i am alone . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> I am alone where things are blurry . . .<br /> there is a line<br /> I cannot cross . .. <br /> the will to kill the weary . . .<br /> the lust to drive a wedge<br /> . . . I am alone<br /> in this dream . . .<br /> a place I cannot fathom,<br /> bottomless<br /> and dark as a womb . .<br /> where nothing <br /> but the heartbeat<br /> holds me . . . <br /> I am alone<br /> where songs are foolish<br /> of love and fear<br /> and death . . <br /> and flowers bloom<br /> where no one has the vision<br /> or smells the sweetness<br /> of solitary discovery . . .<br /> I am alone and<br /> my bones are broken<br /> I weep but no tears do fall . . .<br /> I am alone in spirit<br /> and function . . . <br /> nothing is real . . <br /> but reality<br /> itself . . . . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-58526804613131445322013-07-20T21:47:00.001-07:002013-07-20T21:47:59.178-07:00and the trees dance on and on . . . <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglEb-g4NK2sX0bd7tdGZIoXTu0Re-ZCZoTZLtboRm_Xo0_hfh4T3A9eizoKLeifDh0LBOhqs3Zj3THKKppOWkjxQO8mMLo6ja1-aE-vYwbJYKQ16Mdp0GL9QB7fV01gJEIrQHrHlemGHc/s1600/P1040038+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglEb-g4NK2sX0bd7tdGZIoXTu0Re-ZCZoTZLtboRm_Xo0_hfh4T3A9eizoKLeifDh0LBOhqs3Zj3THKKppOWkjxQO8mMLo6ja1-aE-vYwbJYKQ16Mdp0GL9QB7fV01gJEIrQHrHlemGHc/s640/P1040038+copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I haven't been lost. . . <br />as I round the corner,<br />another year -<br />another day</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I haven't been found,<br />either,<br />but the blue of the sky<br />reflects<br />in the corners of my eyes<br />where a small tear<br />like a lake<br />full of life</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>passive and<br />still under the setting sun<br />a fire blooms<br />and rages silently . . .</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br />I once dreamed<br />there were faces<br />in trees<br />and they danced with me<br />in the night as<br />they sang to me of death<br />and life<br />and death and life</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><br />and that it took a hundred thousand<br />eternities<br />for one small molecule of water<br />to pass from here to there . . .<br />I am the lost one . . .<br />I wander in circles</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>in a crowd of stars</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>where I am seeking</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>a field of flowers</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>over a hidden sea</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>drilling</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>into my heart;</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>the beats</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>irregular and</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>the blood drained</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>by the dark of the night . . .</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW-LJDYzu0V6HD2CKgW3lfQQT6KYnbA2InRx5W2k9F4DLwhzt7fgSTCgakcGV93CI2JzGAhhDz_rMQfNxRUIgV6KCPCLsF06gueG-MPQhOC4mwvu-UVbb44Xo8Gmlp-9b2JWcOmsvMEFA/s1600/P1040064+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW-LJDYzu0V6HD2CKgW3lfQQT6KYnbA2InRx5W2k9F4DLwhzt7fgSTCgakcGV93CI2JzGAhhDz_rMQfNxRUIgV6KCPCLsF06gueG-MPQhOC4mwvu-UVbb44Xo8Gmlp-9b2JWcOmsvMEFA/s320/P1040064+copy.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>there is a white moth</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>flickering,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>like an old movie,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>the story of my life -</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>I am here</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>in the end,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>raveling</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>the thread,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>as a lacy wing</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>blooms before my face, </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>I was wrong</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>when I told the truth. . .</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>sweat drips from my eyes,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>salty and sweet,</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>dark heart shaped splashes</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>sullenly evaporate</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>on this warm living soil</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>where a molecule of water</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>dies</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>and dies again</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="color: #990000;"><i>(Written under melancholia on the eve of my birthday)</i></span> </b></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-20630697086584888622013-06-20T08:33:00.000-07:002013-06-20T09:45:02.384-07:00Thoughts from my head on my way to work . . . <br />
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<b>we live in our heads,<br />tentacles of ourselves reaching out<br /><br />my ex-husband stole my<br />inheritance <br />to hire a man<br />to stalk me,<br />and then ultimately kill me. . .<br />Yet<br />When the man and his friends<br />were ready to snatch me,<br />from the street corner,<br />as I waited for the first bus . . <br />and then the police car<br />came up behind them,</b><br />
<b>from nowhere . . .<br />like my guardian angel . . .<br /><br />So many years ago . . and the tears still fall<br />when I remember . . <br />I try not to remember how I hated and feared men<br />after that . . .<br />The horrors of a man who could leave<br />a woman he once loved<br />destitute . . .<br /><br />for I had nothing left,<br />but my life . . . <br />my friends<br />my child<br />my joy of life<br />the stars over my world<br />the air, flowers, birds . . <br />running water . . <br />my intellect<br />my spirit<br /><br />my strength . . .<br /><br />we live in our heads,<br />tentacles of ourselves reaching out<br /><br /><br />the beautiful girl<br />raced past me to get to the bus shelter's bench<br />why?<br />She saw me with my cane . . .<br />my slow pace . . .<br /><br />I wonder sometimes . . .<br /><br />If the fruit of the tree<br />of the knowledge of good and evil . . .<br />was that verbal communication?<br />Was Eve the first human to talk?<br />Is that why men hate women so much?<br />because Adam had to listen?<br /><br />we live in our heads,<br />tentacles of ourselves reaching out. . .</b><br />
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<b>The workmen, in the building, gave me earplugs<br />to ward off the loud dissonant sounds<br />of the fire alarms <br />they were testing . . <br />with strobe lights flashing .. ..<br />it feels like an alternate universe<br />and I cannot quell the sensation<br />that I must run away. . .<br /><br />the ear plugs are soft with pink and yellow stripes,<br />like candy,<br />I squish one down<br />and place it in my ear<br />where it expands slowly<br />tickling my ear drum<br />with its whispering sounds . . .<br />now I hear<br />only the sounds<br />of my inner self . . .<br /><br />We live in our heads,<br />tentacles reaching out . . .<br /><br />I walk towards the stairs<br />which lead up to my office<br /><br />there is a lonely footprint<br />on the unwashed floor<br />bare and small<br />toes pointed<br />towards the exit. . .</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>We live in our heads,</b><br />
<b>tentacles reaching out . . . </b><br />
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<b>Massimo Vaccaro, "Meditazioni (EP)</b></div>
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<a href="http://www.jamendo.com/en/list/a122771/meditazioni-ep" target="_blank">http://www.jamendo.com/en/list/a122771/meditazioni-ep </a></div>
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<b>Delicate flute and rushing water . . peaceful and quiet . . . gives the listener room to breath . . . </b></div>
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<b>My only complaint is that the album is too short . . . but I listened . . . forever . . .. </b></div>
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<b>GingerTom, "Music and the Movies 10"</b></div>
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<a href="http://www.jamendo.com/en/list/a122725/music-and-the-movies-10" target="_blank">http://www.jamendo.com/en/list/a122725/music-and-the-movies-10 </a></div>
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<b>With GingerTom's music, it is best to travel to Jamendo where he furnishes our minds with a delightful story to attend to the music . . . Even better to go to the beginning of this series and read the stories for all . . in order:</b></div>
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<b>I love the mystery of this musical story . . . It touches on something I would love to do . . travel through China, incognito and being touched by the simple lives and the beauty that abounds, both natural, historical, and human created . . . the Asian notes, and instrumental sounds in the music is quite nice, not overdone but tempting the heart of the listener . .. to follow . .. wherever it may lead. (This is one of my favorite GT's )</b><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Please feel free to check out my music shares and reviews at:</span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><b><a href="http://wolfsongsmusic.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">http://wolfsongsmusic.blogspot.com/ </span></a> </b></span><br />
<b><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you! </span></span></b></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-86910021905787406112013-06-09T12:03:00.000-07:002013-06-09T12:05:45.974-07:00House . . .<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hVwUP7nE8lYmXGUTOXOuRKlJ7t-N6ZAueo-IlwppR0GzE9729htJKnS_lQsqSbGqnrpzl269n1RmOrkWhov2XgLhXjEt-tKoWHFQT8AKYcGmBeBPiYIrR16tWpLjGFUmi12WZi_Zfw0/s1600/halcyon+hall.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hVwUP7nE8lYmXGUTOXOuRKlJ7t-N6ZAueo-IlwppR0GzE9729htJKnS_lQsqSbGqnrpzl269n1RmOrkWhov2XgLhXjEt-tKoWHFQT8AKYcGmBeBPiYIrR16tWpLjGFUmi12WZi_Zfw0/s640/halcyon+hall.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Halcyon Hall *</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I am lost in your hallways . ..<br />skylights ripped like scars<br />through your skin . .<br />you have no joy in me<br />as I wander through the night<br />leaving temporary imprints,<br />blood on your walls<br />I am but a memory that clings<br />like refuse . . . waiting to be blown<br />into the ever waiting skies . .. <br />a dream, a bit of wayward dust . . .<br />a glint of glass reflecting hope,<br />for esteem . . . I stand and yet<br />I crumble . . slowly . .. minutely<br />momentarily away . . . <br />melting like seaweed<br />on endless shores . . . I am lost<br />in your beauty . . .<br />I am lost to you .. .. .<br />I hear a hundred thousand voices<br />resounding like planets<br />across the plane of time . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>the foot falls . . resonate. . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>sliding warily<br />through memories . . . woven in delicate<br />arches . .. backs bent, straining against the pressure<br />that releases life . . .<br />a spare coin rolls downhill<br />like thunder's deep echo<br />the voice of a god speaking<br />hidden behind the next corner . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>beware of splinters<br />spearing deftly through the murmuring heart . . . <br />the fall of the house<br />frees the soul as pigeons<br />wing skyward<br />the timbers crash to the soil<br />and the stench of mildew<br />revives the community<br />to bury the body . . </b></span><br />
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<b>Rune X -Natural Northern Darkness-, "Paganstorm II (Album2013)"</b><br />
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<b>Dark pagan . .. black metal . . . joyless and droning . . yet mesmerizing and meaningful . . . responding and resonating with the listening soul . . . </b><br />
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<object align="middle" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=7,0,0,0" height="300" width="200"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><param name="movie" value="http://widgets.jamendo.com/en/album/?album_id=122408&playertype=2008&refuid=1011928"><param name="quality" value="high"><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"><embed src="http://widgets.jamendo.com/en/album/?album_id=122408&playertype=2008&refuid=1011928" quality="high" wmode="transparent" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" width="200" height="300" align="middle" allowscriptaccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"> </object><a href="https://pro.jamendo.com/" style="display: block; font-size: 8px !important;">Royalty-free music for professional licensing</a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0nlskFb1iawAM-NXro9cgEJDhXwkEvdl5PdHTH9nvcmhunQEwwhIrFDXfF0wD0gc3-Bqnc6Zb7P3Y7apGZDb2IsS1cIB8TkwIov0cHTa2V7DbHZSocQJ7_MNR4L3Sd6Yf7lBQPRE1bmk/s1600/P1040851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0nlskFb1iawAM-NXro9cgEJDhXwkEvdl5PdHTH9nvcmhunQEwwhIrFDXfF0wD0gc3-Bqnc6Zb7P3Y7apGZDb2IsS1cIB8TkwIov0cHTa2V7DbHZSocQJ7_MNR4L3Sd6Yf7lBQPRE1bmk/s640/P1040851.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Dragonfly</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><br /></td></tr>
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<b> To lighten and brighten the mood . .. This dragonfly was hanging on to the tallest branch in my yard, after taking several flights with a friend . .. it would sit here sunning itself, the colors glinting from the wings were like fire, golden red fire with occasional glimpses of the rainbow . . . its little head would turn and look at me as I took several pictures . .. but it posed magnificently:</b></div>
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* This picture of Halcyon Hall was NOT taken by me but was found on the Internet without notes regarding to the photographer. There are many pictures of this hall ( also known as Bennett College ) located in Millbrook NY . . . the latest pictures are of the collapsing in the middle section . . . it inspired me, this house, with its fancy face yet lost expression . . . its age and deterioration. . . its history . . .</div>
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<a href="http://www.preservationnation.org/magazine/2011/story-of-the-day/the-rise-and-fall-of-halcyon.html">http://www.preservationnation.org/magazine/2011/story-of-the-day/the-rise-and-fall-of-halcyon.html</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.opacity.us/site11_bennett_school_for_girls.htm" target="_blank">http://www.opacity.us/site11_bennett_school_for_girls.htm </a></div>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/carla-kurt/8620576750/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/carla-kurt/8620576750/</a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-15210183655036619952013-06-05T10:35:00.001-07:002013-06-05T10:35:42.174-07:00again . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIdL4XGoOxghwlLgR2I2YLKUOmPMY5nVaJP5s8xUfmW_298X07dQBYSE33BMWIXTsqWqEuFHsYa2RP0vMEySZYdH3wZg4-_oUNYxFJYwqk7PCCImHPQKtL0fFlDWPkFJAU0Z3-lq9qUg/s1600/P1040430+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIdL4XGoOxghwlLgR2I2YLKUOmPMY5nVaJP5s8xUfmW_298X07dQBYSE33BMWIXTsqWqEuFHsYa2RP0vMEySZYdH3wZg4-_oUNYxFJYwqk7PCCImHPQKtL0fFlDWPkFJAU0Z3-lq9qUg/s1600/P1040430+copy.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>and one<br />displaces the wind<br />the wanderer, alone. . .<br />reaches up to the rain,<br />pasting teardrops on children<br />and wings on effervescent lullabies . . .<br />a ray of sun creeps through the boiling clouds<br />like streaks of golden hair<br />flowing into the eyes<br />of the observer .. .. <br />and two<br />beyond the tree<br />a lonely figure is bending over <br />the beating heart . ..<br />red like ruby roses<br />dancing on a silver river of mirrors<br />float the dreams of multitudes . . . <br />like burning ships passing by in the night . . .<br />willing to be embraced <br />and three<br />an emblem, ululates <br />through golden plains<br />the wind bends the stalks<br />like horses<br />galloping beneath the cliffs . . .<br />singing the song of dolphins<br />tossed on a troubled sea . . .<br />the life entwined . . <br /> hope tumbles outward<br />through a universe<br /> unknown<br />yet open arms<br /> of angels<br />reaching<br /> reaching<br /> for love . . . .</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>and those of us who have died . . .</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>and returned</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>will always remember</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>the graceful dance</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>of that last amber leaf</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>in the last exhale</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>of Winter's breeze . . </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-66434038425363553962013-04-28T14:42:00.000-07:002013-04-28T14:42:13.164-07:00Bigness of Existance . . .<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vers River</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXapEgFofdHXtOglHcpBacl7wji8qqr2kKxHoDqvA2QZClmx49smKgeJTilDQsRH0EOjdRJZJCqHZRejTv3GEk8HmZhjPRSoGjpu-b5B-XGz6Bk_pR9gYPsK3Ognj3mO-m-PtvtZC3_6c/s1600/DSCN8251+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXapEgFofdHXtOglHcpBacl7wji8qqr2kKxHoDqvA2QZClmx49smKgeJTilDQsRH0EOjdRJZJCqHZRejTv3GEk8HmZhjPRSoGjpu-b5B-XGz6Bk_pR9gYPsK3Ognj3mO-m-PtvtZC3_6c/s320/DSCN8251+copy.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crystal Springs</td></tr>
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<b>Some songs were meant to be unsung;<br />some dreams have faded long ago;<br />some clouds never pour . . but float away<br />across the endless sound . . .<br />Once the sea covered the world<br />in a mantle of glowing amber,<br />an unblinking eye in the universe,<br />seeking that which is yet unblemished<br />by fear<br />or frozen forever into time long gone . . .<br />There is endless energy locked<br />into the hearts of the stars . .. the Universe<br />is not to be despised . . . for like a box of treasure,<br />a single atom revealed . . . expands forever within the<br />hands of the gods;<br />the pathway is long and curved . . .<br />the trees stand sentry, dark and still . . .<br />one wonders about the corners,<br />seeking and expecting a violent thrill,<br />yet all is familiar sameness<br />the trail goes on and on . . .<br />even the shadows are empty<br />and the day is ever so long . . .<br />If you think of love or hatred<br />and find both on that twisted strip .. ..<br />breathing the air of its partner .. .<br />the relief of the one is the other . . .<br />Longing to be defined and believed . . . <br />an emptiness in my soul is filled with song . . <br />and color . . <br />vistas . . . and wonder . . . <br />newness and oldness . .. courage and wisdom . . .<br />found in the most surprising corners . .. <br />along that twisted trail . . </b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pacific Ocean</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-26082688036717897952013-04-25T10:21:00.000-07:002013-04-25T10:21:13.715-07:00Do not Despair . . .<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh66CsLstaZrSOO-lV8vExedeIYY5YlRN13TAKRwqMWd6XamA4oIh5q-8wZJa0opr1UwVBrwrytTp3BdOf9g_pTa3xDJVOo3uu1mYQm3XbslJKMDlHMazhry5qGd_mPyXQnB3zhuZOGCqo/s1600/DSCN6108+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh66CsLstaZrSOO-lV8vExedeIYY5YlRN13TAKRwqMWd6XamA4oIh5q-8wZJa0opr1UwVBrwrytTp3BdOf9g_pTa3xDJVOo3uu1mYQm3XbslJKMDlHMazhry5qGd_mPyXQnB3zhuZOGCqo/s640/DSCN6108+copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b> I question my reflection<br /> as the balloon of many colors<br /> lifts up into the ozone . . .<br /> There is a silent melody of the heart,<br /> where, nudged by warm exhalations <br /> of angels,<br /> all the people glide by<br /> on wings of gossamer,<br /> wistful dreams drift over their heads . . .<br /> some to slip away forever,<br /> and little tears of crystal emptiness<br /> evaporate into a heartless desert . . .<br /><br /> There is no answer to your endless question<br /> There is no hope beyond the moment<br /> There is no dream beneath the whispering winds<br /><br /> There is no love but that defined<br /> by gods who carry all the pain . . .<br /><br /> You stand sentry<br /> Oh raven,</b><br />
<b> ebony upon my winter's breast,<br /> your inner light,<br /> an array of un-shed colors . . .<br /> dancing sun-like on closely knitted feathers,</b><br />
<b> golden as the summer storms<br /> that cloud your visionary orbs<br /> where flocks of birds seethe<br /> across sighing skies;<br /> and a deep heartbeat throbs, somewhere,<br /> pulsating with an undefined empathy,<br /> reflected in the eyes of the mirror.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5LZLTqTjUtz28PkiLbpHqcrJaUBjt2_AtJpnVe9E8mr_pMEhfuT6ZhSeXj7qf3q6Q2JoabYIYebwvlmA44vAW9F67mke9yFcdZtbWAQM5xhRAEAGnMZu978cOsk6UB-Z9GTgiwrbXQo/s1600/DSCN6233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5LZLTqTjUtz28PkiLbpHqcrJaUBjt2_AtJpnVe9E8mr_pMEhfuT6ZhSeXj7qf3q6Q2JoabYIYebwvlmA44vAW9F67mke9yFcdZtbWAQM5xhRAEAGnMZu978cOsk6UB-Z9GTgiwrbXQo/s640/DSCN6233.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-62043497185426717302013-04-21T20:04:00.000-07:002013-04-21T20:05:05.105-07:00Time Through the Window<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPpuZmjIRUW_JIHNYIYka718-UJMz5sMS2l-AmRA0YDEiRvrBf-QI0Qi0R-BNizMUH5zsGg0ocHG3gYe9LT4yvpX0qcBgJT5wi7hGkwNrx7XgHfismsLjOfIgmVCUuqCbzmV3fJm4REcw/s1600/DSCN4790+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPpuZmjIRUW_JIHNYIYka718-UJMz5sMS2l-AmRA0YDEiRvrBf-QI0Qi0R-BNizMUH5zsGg0ocHG3gYe9LT4yvpX0qcBgJT5wi7hGkwNrx7XgHfismsLjOfIgmVCUuqCbzmV3fJm4REcw/s640/DSCN4790+copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>....Time....<br /><br />I look through the pane,<br />and find a way out<br /> of my angst . . .<br />through the window<br /> . . . I fly to the top of the pine<br />putting on the wings<br /> . . . of it's cones<br />and there I tumble from bough<br /> to bough,<br />catching my sharp edges<br />. . . on green needles<span style="font-size: small;">,</span><br /> gathering<br />the soft dew. . .<br /> as I flow<br />like thunder . .<span style="font-size: small;"> . </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>That which we capture in our hearts<br />is safe from loss<br />bound by an endlessness which<br />engulfs the stars,<br />the blue<br />and a dreaming pine-cone<br />with wings . . .</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlH0fmqDP73pnD1hkEIOwt2pIqgbTALkCU0nMZ1zMHIZdmcmcbwwFrHP291wC7nkrwMZpalnj2trtpWuZCp3A0dpfkMmdVi1h88sEzQtJhyNis0gt2t9aIsZ8XPV9ELNugiEcLFM73G2A/s1600/DSCN4896+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlH0fmqDP73pnD1hkEIOwt2pIqgbTALkCU0nMZ1zMHIZdmcmcbwwFrHP291wC7nkrwMZpalnj2trtpWuZCp3A0dpfkMmdVi1h88sEzQtJhyNis0gt2t9aIsZ8XPV9ELNugiEcLFM73G2A/s320/DSCN4896+copy.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">S</span>o confess: the lily's bloom<br />extracts a certain lightness<br /> in our being,<br />as beauty,<br /> . . . effervescent<br />of heaven . . . <br />where is our loss,<br />our final destination <br /> . . . where bleak the dark<br />or bright the light . . . <br />we yet have wings . . <br /> and know<br /> . . the dream released . . <br />Explain: the empty shell,<br />its tender clasp of breath<br />is sunset's glory . . . <br /> </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b> . . . a rim of pink<br />a reflection of blood <br />the crimson of life <br /> let go.<br /><br />The Angel of Death<br /> has wings<br />of beating hearts,<br /> a voice of tears<span style="font-size: small;"> . . . </span><br />falling,</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>grasping hands <br />of time's relentless <br /> . . . sands</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>eyes of infinit<span style="font-size: small;">y's</span><br /> darkness </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b> and endless<br />pain turns a corner . . . </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>A light drips<br />slowly into pools<br />of golden <br /> love . . .</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Stand beneath the<br /> tree<br />where she drops her<br />. . . leaves<br />and sunlight filters <br />through<br />her ever reaching<br /> . . . branches<br />raindrops disclose<br />molten silver<span style="font-size: small;">,</span><br />reflecting endless<br /> . . . colors<br />of thought <br />the rough edges<br /> of black clouds<br />eclipse the watery<br />. . . sun<br />floating themselves <br />into oblivion<br />until evaporation <br />. . . charms <br />an upturned land, <br />the shape of all <br />. . . things <br />. . . eroded <br />by the feather light <br />grip<br />of time . . .</b></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All pictures taken at St. Cirq Lapopie, France</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5524498479670361266.post-667233395155538572013-04-06T14:36:00.002-07:002013-04-06T14:36:52.058-07:00Where Tears Gather . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>The clouds, with shifting patterns,<br /> form and reform over the arch of the hill . .<br />mutilating the view of the mountains, <br /> yet painting in shades of gray the flight<br />of the winged . . . <br />the glow of sunlight veiled <br />beyond the ceiling of the sky . . <br />finds its way to the sea beneath<br /> where gather the teardrops<br /> of the multitudes . . . <br />. . . hearts encased in hurt . . <br /> yet . . somehow the souls <br />of the living and the dead connect . . . <br /> through time's secret river<br />as it flows into the sea with our dreams . . .<br /> for once we rose<br />on wings that shined like rainbows; <br /> each soul a vision of love and joy . . .<br />the being of each a treasure, <br /> always a reflection <br /> of the beauty of the earth,<br />the cosmos . . . the universe, and<br />heaven . . . <br /> the place where waters gather . . .<br />where now the golden ripples <br /> of sunbeams unite to dance<br />upon </b></div>
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<b>a trembling sea . .. </b></div>
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This music, by GingerTom, is enjoyable to listen for anytime . . . yet it's more fun to go to his pages and read the story that is entwined with each track and enables the listener to see his vision (which is stage worthy) . . . I have written several reviews for each track as they were published so I will not write another . . just want people to enjoy this great listen . . . (My favorite track is "Tea Time" . . but others have their unique value also):<br />
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