Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error, and upon me prov’d,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.
They give the pigeons a place to perch
“People who worship only themselves get a slick, polished look -- like monuments.”
~Vanna Bonta
Sooner or later they run out of admirers and are left alone with their glorious selves, wondering why their only friend is in the mirror. People grow weary of being continuously measured and found wanting, and then chased when they turn away, when the fickle one realizes they are losing someone they really do want in their lives. Call them back as if this time it will be different, this time there will be consistency and true blue. Fickleness is a symptom of many things, some of which are caused by past pain, but it is not a reflection of the reality of the other person. It is a lack of consistency within one's own mind, causing unnecessary pain to others. The woman is not beautiful one day and plain the next. It is not rational that she is clingy one day and funny, cool and interesting the next. That is projection from within one's own mind, changing perceptions and feelings triggered by all manner of things in the environment. We already know all this and we do it anyway because it is much work to change it, and getting away with it for years teaches one that there is no need to fix it. But the years go by and the chances get slimmer, and the people are fewer; and sometimes the one mistake is the one that would have made the difference between Alive and surviving. Time is shorter than we think.
in time of daffodils
E.E. Cummings
~Vanna Bonta
Sooner or later they run out of admirers and are left alone with their glorious selves, wondering why their only friend is in the mirror. People grow weary of being continuously measured and found wanting, and then chased when they turn away, when the fickle one realizes they are losing someone they really do want in their lives. Call them back as if this time it will be different, this time there will be consistency and true blue. Fickleness is a symptom of many things, some of which are caused by past pain, but it is not a reflection of the reality of the other person. It is a lack of consistency within one's own mind, causing unnecessary pain to others. The woman is not beautiful one day and plain the next. It is not rational that she is clingy one day and funny, cool and interesting the next. That is projection from within one's own mind, changing perceptions and feelings triggered by all manner of things in the environment. We already know all this and we do it anyway because it is much work to change it, and getting away with it for years teaches one that there is no need to fix it. But the years go by and the chances get slimmer, and the people are fewer; and sometimes the one mistake is the one that would have made the difference between Alive and surviving. Time is shorter than we think.
in time of daffodils
in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how
in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)
in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes
in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)
and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how
in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)
in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes
in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)
and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me
E.E. Cummings
Chronicle of the Paraclete
She is well loved
among the well loved,
among those who know how to love.
Timeless, ageless, she floats on the breeze,
exchanging smiles and cups of tea,
from new spirited morning
'til tranquil, easy, cozy sleep.
Her closet is full of lovelies and elegance
all soft next to the skin
and shoes to fit feet and essence;
shoes that dance;
when she chooses to wear them.
Her shelves are stacked handily with all manner of books
with secrets now free,
weavings in every language ever muttered.
Her quill sets poised on her secretaire, eager to edit
and rarely needing to.
Punctuation is ever optional, endings are no more
and so periods are moot
Her vision is clear as fine crystal,
her body is sound as God's first breath upon it,
as it ever was and ever will and ever always,
as are the ones who hold her beating heart
Her pantry is stocked with strength and pabulum,
bread and wine to share and pray
Spice for remembrance,
salt for constitution,
mead for covenant
Her name travels as starlight
with purest invocation from breath to breath
held in open palms gently and with aegis
Her children glide joyfully through field and forest,
desert and sea
with grace, with quarter
Her work is pulchritude and wonder, adventure, felicity,
that fills her coffers to overflow with gold unneeded,
to pass to the young,
to hire, to make merry,
to share, to free
Her love was, hither, will to be,
resonance and harmony
serene sanguine serosity,
euphonious efficacy
and susurrant affinity
emulsified with sanctity
efferent synchronicity,
ebullient fidelity
To wit, to laughter, breath and birth,
the key to open up the earth
she carries loosely in her mirth
while wending star to stone to sea,
a wink to turn and dance with thee
~M.Black
among the well loved,
among those who know how to love.
Timeless, ageless, she floats on the breeze,
exchanging smiles and cups of tea,
from new spirited morning
'til tranquil, easy, cozy sleep.
Her closet is full of lovelies and elegance
all soft next to the skin
and shoes to fit feet and essence;
shoes that dance;
when she chooses to wear them.
Her shelves are stacked handily with all manner of books
with secrets now free,
weavings in every language ever muttered.
Her quill sets poised on her secretaire, eager to edit
and rarely needing to.
Punctuation is ever optional, endings are no more
and so periods are moot
Her vision is clear as fine crystal,
her body is sound as God's first breath upon it,
as it ever was and ever will and ever always,
as are the ones who hold her beating heart
Her pantry is stocked with strength and pabulum,
bread and wine to share and pray
Spice for remembrance,
salt for constitution,
mead for covenant
Her name travels as starlight
with purest invocation from breath to breath
held in open palms gently and with aegis
Her children glide joyfully through field and forest,
desert and sea
with grace, with quarter
Her work is pulchritude and wonder, adventure, felicity,
that fills her coffers to overflow with gold unneeded,
to pass to the young,
to hire, to make merry,
to share, to free
Her love was, hither, will to be,
resonance and harmony
serene sanguine serosity,
euphonious efficacy
and susurrant affinity
emulsified with sanctity
efferent synchronicity,
ebullient fidelity
To wit, to laughter, breath and birth,
the key to open up the earth
she carries loosely in her mirth
while wending star to stone to sea,
a wink to turn and dance with thee
~M.Black
Gnosis
So came the opening of the eyes,
so comes the waking of the cornflower;
to here draws the point of singular destination
cinching space and time with one stitch.
There is no more to say,
for here is the Alpha and the Omega
no words fit between the darkening and the light,
and all words ever written or whispered;
There is no more to say.
M.Black 7/22/2010 11:00
so comes the waking of the cornflower;
to here draws the point of singular destination
cinching space and time with one stitch.
There is no more to say,
for here is the Alpha and the Omega
no words fit between the darkening and the light,
and all words ever written or whispered;
There is no more to say.
M.Black 7/22/2010 11:00
As Eddie Murphy says: "Heh, heh, heh..."
Link to funny story: "Man Up"
Well done. And guys, read all the way to the end, if you can contain yourself, you are logical and objective, aren't you? ;)
Well done. And guys, read all the way to the end, if you can contain yourself, you are logical and objective, aren't you? ;)
King's X - The Big Picture (live)
She's got everything I need and more to live my
life Never ever thought to think of never survive
The circle has been broken it's always been this
way The Big Picture I wanna see I know you're
listening so let it be Golden Rules and Sunday
Schools It was my way A rock-n-roll, a spiritual
Give me any day, yeah The final chapter the
morning after blowing in the wind Taking away the
other day where time stands us still
life Never ever thought to think of never survive
The circle has been broken it's always been this
way The Big Picture I wanna see I know you're
listening so let it be Golden Rules and Sunday
Schools It was my way A rock-n-roll, a spiritual
Give me any day, yeah The final chapter the
morning after blowing in the wind Taking away the
other day where time stands us still
Hold On~ Yes
Shake - We shake so hard
How we laugh so loud
When we reach
We believe in eternity~
Yes I believe in eternity
Justice to the left of you
Justice to the right
Speak when you are spoken to
Don't pretend you're right
This life's not for living
It's for fighting and for war
No matter what the truth is
Hold on to what is yours
Jigsaw puzzle traitors
Set to spill the beans
Constitution screw up
Shattering the dreams
Blood flows in the desert
Dark citadels burning too
Watch! Look over your shoulder
This one is strictly for you
Hold on - Hold on
Wait maybe the answer's
Looking for you
Hold on - Hold on
Wait! Take you time
Think it through
Yes! I can make it through
Hold on - Hold on
Sunshine shine on through
Hold on - Hold on
Sunshine shine on you
See it through
Talk the simple smile
Such platonic eye
How they drown in incomplete capacity
Strangest of them all
When the feeling calls
How we drown in stylistic audacity
Charge the common ground
Round and round and round
We living in gravity
Shake - We shake so hard
How we laugh so loud
When we reach
We believe in eternity
I believe in eternity
Hold on - Hold on
Wait - Take your time Sunshine shine on through
See it through
Hold on - Hold on
Wait - Maybe a chance Sunshine shine on through
Is looking for you Sunshine shine on you
How we laugh so loud
When we reach
We believe in eternity~
Yes I believe in eternity
Justice to the left of you
Justice to the right
Speak when you are spoken to
Don't pretend you're right
This life's not for living
It's for fighting and for war
No matter what the truth is
Hold on to what is yours
Jigsaw puzzle traitors
Set to spill the beans
Constitution screw up
Shattering the dreams
Blood flows in the desert
Dark citadels burning too
Watch! Look over your shoulder
This one is strictly for you
Hold on - Hold on
Wait maybe the answer's
Looking for you
Hold on - Hold on
Wait! Take you time
Think it through
Yes! I can make it through
Hold on - Hold on
Sunshine shine on through
Hold on - Hold on
Sunshine shine on you
See it through
Talk the simple smile
Such platonic eye
How they drown in incomplete capacity
Strangest of them all
When the feeling calls
How we drown in stylistic audacity
Charge the common ground
Round and round and round
We living in gravity
Shake - We shake so hard
How we laugh so loud
When we reach
We believe in eternity
I believe in eternity
Hold on - Hold on
Wait - Take your time Sunshine shine on through
See it through
Hold on - Hold on
Wait - Maybe a chance Sunshine shine on through
Is looking for you Sunshine shine on you
Esse
On two feet and ten toes she propels herself forward
balancing on the ground, counterbalanced on the Earth;
two eyes, two ears in Divine Proportion
to one heart brewing elixir of mourning and mirth.
The downtown matrons and the uptown maids
in ever their most appurtenant tackle
avert their chagrin to be caught with their countenance
showing; exposed with alleycat hackles.
With two hands and ten fingers she swings her arms
with elegant composure, to gain impulsion.
One nose and one mouth for a Golden Mean,
in the middle of her head, God's compulsion.
The uptown patriarchs and the downtown boys
in their ever most assimilated gear
dart their gaze back and toward, caught between
haughty assessment and private, disquieting fear.
With two lungs she breathes in the vaporous essence
from each of them as they stare like boorish children in the hedge;
Her flame burns hotter and brighter with every utterance,
her back grows stronger with each shove toward the ending's edge.
The sidewalk ends at the cobblestone road,
but her two legs continue forward without pause or slip;
she has been here before, she has been farther toward sundown
than what has been passed between fleering and lip.
She will keep on walking with or without them,
and with or without this loosened rhyme.
Her gait keeps its own clock,
her clock keeps its own meter,
her arrival will be right on time.
~M. Black
balancing on the ground, counterbalanced on the Earth;
two eyes, two ears in Divine Proportion
to one heart brewing elixir of mourning and mirth.
The downtown matrons and the uptown maids
in ever their most appurtenant tackle
avert their chagrin to be caught with their countenance
showing; exposed with alleycat hackles.
With two hands and ten fingers she swings her arms
with elegant composure, to gain impulsion.
One nose and one mouth for a Golden Mean,
in the middle of her head, God's compulsion.
The uptown patriarchs and the downtown boys
in their ever most assimilated gear
dart their gaze back and toward, caught between
haughty assessment and private, disquieting fear.
With two lungs she breathes in the vaporous essence
from each of them as they stare like boorish children in the hedge;
Her flame burns hotter and brighter with every utterance,
her back grows stronger with each shove toward the ending's edge.
The sidewalk ends at the cobblestone road,
but her two legs continue forward without pause or slip;
she has been here before, she has been farther toward sundown
than what has been passed between fleering and lip.
She will keep on walking with or without them,
and with or without this loosened rhyme.
Her gait keeps its own clock,
her clock keeps its own meter,
her arrival will be right on time.
~M. Black
In that open field
If you do not come too close,
if you do not come too close,
you can hear the music
Dawn points, and another day
Prepares for heat and silence.
Out at sea as the dawn wind
Wrinkles and slides. I am here
Or there, or elsewhere. In my beginning.
T.S. Eliot
if you do not come too close,
you can hear the music
Dawn points, and another day
Prepares for heat and silence.
Out at sea as the dawn wind
Wrinkles and slides. I am here
Or there, or elsewhere. In my beginning.
T.S. Eliot
Cats
Sometimes you have to moan, when nothing seems to suit ya,
nevertheless you know you're locked toward the future
-Steven
nevertheless you know you're locked toward the future
-Steven
Slippage
There is something I am missing;
something I have left behind, or forgotten, or lost;
perhaps it was taken.
Pray tell, if you know,
do not keep me in the dark here alone.
I am not the same, but I am still the same one,
the pieces that have fallen still fit.
This time with grace and humility,
and listening.
I'm doing the best I can.
something I have left behind, or forgotten, or lost;
perhaps it was taken.
Pray tell, if you know,
do not keep me in the dark here alone.
I am not the same, but I am still the same one,
the pieces that have fallen still fit.
This time with grace and humility,
and listening.
I'm doing the best I can.
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