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my healing artwork
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william wordsworth
Written in Early Spring
I heard a thousand blended notes While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think What Man has made of Man. |
I can't help but think of our military families who are missing loved ones. :(
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pGSk2-jZ-4 "Coming Home" - John Legend A father waits upon a son A mother prays for his return I just called to see If you still have a place for me We know that life took us apart But you're still within my heart I go to sleep and feel your spirit next to me I'll make it home again I pray you'll fall in love again Just say you'll entertain the possibility I learned enough from my mistakes Learned from all I didn't say Won't you wait for me It may be long to get me there It feels like I've been everywhere But someday I'll be coming home Round and round the world will spin Oh, the circle never ends So you know that I'll be coming home We fight to stay alive But somebody's got to die It's so strange to me A new year, a new enemy Another soldier gone to war Another story told before Now it's told again It seems the wars will never end But we'll make it home again Back where we belong again We're holding on to when We used to dare to dream We pray we live to see Another day in history Yes we still believe It may be long to get me there It feels like I've been everywhere But someday I'll be coming home Round and round the world will spin Oh, the circle never ends So you know that I'll be coming home |
What My Father Believed by John Guzlowski
What My Father Believed
He didn't know about the Rock of Ages or bringing in the sheaves or Jacob's ladder or gathering at the beautiful river that flows beneath the throne of God. He'd never heard of the Baltimore Catechism either, and didn't know the purpose of life was to love and honor and serve God. He'd been to the village church as a boy in Poland, and knew he was Catholic because his mother and father were buried in a cemetery under wooden crosses. His sister Catherine was buried there too. The day their mother died Catherine took to the kitchen corner where the stove sat, and cried. She wouldn't eat or drink, just cried until she died there, died of a broken heart. She was three or four years old, he was five. What he knew about the nature of God and religion came from the sermons the priests told at mass, and this got mixed up with his own life. He knew living was hard, and that even children are meant to suffer. Sometimes, when he was drinking he'd ask, "Didn't God send his own son here to suffer?" My father believed we are here to lift logs that can't be lifted, to hammer steel nails so bent they crack when we hit them. In the slave labor camps in Germany, He'd seen men try the impossible and fail. He believed life is hard, and we should help each other. If you see someone on a cross, his weight pulling him down and breaking his muscles, you should try to lift him, even if only for a minute, even though you know lifting won't save him. |
your move~ lyrical poetry -muse
I've seen all good people turn their heads each day
so satisfied I'm on my way. I've seen all good people turn their heads each day so satisfied I'm on my way. Take a straight and stronger course to the corner of your life. Make the white queen run so fast she hasn't got time to make you a wife. 'Cause it's time, it's time in time with your time and its news is captured For the queen to use. Move me on to any black square, Use me any time you want, Just remember that the goal 'Sfor us to capture all we want, anywhere, Yea, yea, yea. Don't surround yourself with yourself, Move on back two squares, Send an Instant Karma to me, Don't surround yourself with yourself, Move on back two squares, Send an Instant Karma to me, Initial it with loving care Don't surround Yourself with yourself. Don't surround yourself. Send an Instant Karma to me. Don't surround yourself. 'Cause it's time, it's time in time with your time and its news is captured For the queen to use. -I heard this song sang by a boy turned into a man unwillingly - Robert Downey Jr. actually he has a awesome voice - Initial it with loving care Don't surround Yourself. 'Cause it's time, it's time in time with your time and its news is captured For the queen to use. |
my small film -yourmove -
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alfeeeeeeee? did you write this poem?
if you did -youi arevery excellent -you should write a book!
really! luv tena Quote:
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What My Father Believed by John Guzlowski :)
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Bring him home...
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oh!
Quote:
lol? nevermind Mr. Guzlowski! :D everyday I lose part of my senses -pretty soon I'll be senseless...teehee? :hug: |
A Quote
"It needs the advent of that dread visitant, Death, to make us understand that we ought to make haste and love WELL those whom we do love, if we would not have them pass away from us forever before we have loved them enough."
Andre Cornelis Bourget |
Hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all. by Emily Dickinson |
Chapter One
I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost...I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out. Chapter Two I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I am in this same place. But it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out. Chapter Three I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in...it's a habit...but, It is my fault. I get out immediately. Chapter Four I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it. Chapter Five I walk down another street. |
Happy 2008!
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The Echo
You hear so much about memories at this time of year. From Thanksgiving Day on we are bombarded with the idea that we are not only making memories but somehow building upon them.
It is the sites, sounds and smells of the holidays that trigger vivid flashbacks for me. The turkey taking center stage, the cranberries and sweet potatoes all make me think of mom. The first Christmas bell, carol, or even laughter I hear, readies my mind for a long journey home and the loving sounds only family can provide. But, oh how a whiff of chocolate, peanut butter cookies or pumpkin pie can set my soul a dancin' down memory lane! It's easy for me to venture back to things I hold close to my heart. It takes very little to find myself remembering people, places and things which somehow mixed in with the very essence of who I am today. I swear if they checked my DNA, they'd come up with elements of chocolate chip cookie mixed with genetic traits of dancing when the spirit moved me and smiling when I hear my mom's voice. Memories are as much a part of who I am as today's choices become a part of all I will become. But what about this new years eve thing? Just below the sound of horns tooting and bubbly bubbling, lies the stark reality of the passing of another year. Many struggle with all they wanted to do and didn't. Some struggle with all they think they can never accomplish and still others bask in the glow of success beyond measure. For the first time in many new year celebrations I have discovered the real truth about time. "The Echo." If I take away all the fond, sweet feelings of the past and remove the element of regret from things I wanted to do right or things I did wrong, I am left with the facts. Everything I do in 2008 will be reflected in how I see my life on new years eve that year. Thus, my theory of "The Echo." If you stand in a canyon and shout, "Hello!" "Hello" comes back to you. You can't yell, "How are you?" and get a reply, "Fine. Thanks for asking!" 2008 is like a canyon. You stand on the edge on new years eve and what you put into it will come back to you. The more you put in, the more will come back. If you love more, you will get more love back. If you fear more, fear will come back. So, this new years eve when you find yourself reflecting on 2007 remember, it has nothing at all to do with memories. It's "The Echo." What will you get back next year? |
Rage
Be still, you will
destroy yourself with rage, he said. But, I must cry and beat the wall or I am dead. *********** G.S.Whitford |
Maturity
is a very magical thing.... Now you see it, now you don't. ****** Peter McWilliams |
MeBP
I have for years belived in we 'reap what we sow' Your 'ECHO' explination is awe inspiring................i read this post many times .And believe in a modern time..it would be be a peferfect expleanation [SPELT WRONG I KNOW BUT SPELL CHECK HAS DISERTED ME] to my own views on life...and if you dont mind i would like to use your Theory in my work. WONDERFUL POST AND THANK YOU:hug: David |
of my lost youth -
Of My Lost Youth
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. poem about fighting a war in his youth -his stolen youth we may be able to identify with this on many levels - entire poem link - http://quotations.about.com/cs/poeml...Lost_Youth.htm Often I think of the beautiful town That is seated by the sea; Often in thought go up and down The pleasant streets of that dear old town, And my youth comes back to me. And a verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I can see the shadowy lines of its trees, And catch, in sudden gleams, The sheen of the far-surrounding seas, And islands that were the Hesperides Of all my boyish dreams. And the burden of that old song, It murmurs and whispers still: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I remember the black wharves and the ships, And the sea-tides tossing free; And Spanish sailors with bearded lips, And the beauty and mystery of the ships, And the magic of the sea. And the voice of that wayward song Is singing and saying still: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I remember the bulwarks by the shore, And the fort upon the hill; The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar, The drum-beat repeated o'er and o'er, And the bugle wild and shrill. And the music of that old song Throbs in my memory still: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I remember the sea-fight far away, How it thundered o'er the tide! And the dead captains, as they lay In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay Where they in battle died. And the sound of that mournful song Goes through me with a thrill: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." |
ALFFE
Chapter 1-5................is pure brilliance... and i will steal from you as a teaching tool if thats ok................. David |
emily dickinson - heartbrake
Heart! We will forget him!
You and I—tonight! You may forget the warmth he gave— I will forget the light! When you have done, pray tell me That I may straight begin! Haste! lest while you're lagging I remember him! |
low self image?
A charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld. The lady dare not lift her veil For fear it be dispelled. But peers beyond her mesh, And wishes, and denies, 'Lest interview annul a want That image satisfies. Emily Dickinson |
http://farm1.static.flickr.com/109/2...bfb33e87_o.jpg
my little baby boy is 22 now, and I do not know where the time went, we had a hard start -ryan was born Emergency-c-section http://farm1.static.flickr.com/10/13...3785de75_o.jpg a bit of me - with my only child is what I have to offer you today, connected to life, through love - and pain... some say no pain is not to gain a deeper aspect of life - we grow in those painful times - when you have to live by faith one day at a time... |
This is one of my favorite songs, especially when I'm thinking of someone I may have harmed or disappointed over the years. I can apply to anyone....even God. :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WC--Q...eature=related "The Reason" - Hoobastank (LOVE that name :p ) I'm not a perfect person There's many things I wish I didn't do But I continue learning I never meant to do those things to you And so I have to say before I go That I just want you to know I've found a reason for me To change who I used to be A reason to start over new and the reason is you I'm sorry that I hurt you It's something I must live with everyday And all the pain I put you through I wish that I could take it all away And be the one who catches all your tears Thats why i need you to hear I've found a reason for me To change who I used to be A reason to start over new and the reason is You and the reason is You [x3] I'm not a perfect person I never meant to do those things to you And so I have to say before I go That I just want you to know I've found a reason for me To change who I used to be A reason to start over new and the reason is you I've found a reason to show A side of me you didn't know A reason for all that I do And the reason is you |
Self-Employed
By David Ignatow For Harvey Shapiro I stand and listen, head bowed, to my inner complaint. Persons passing by think I am searching for a lost coin. You’re fired, I yell inside after an especially bad episode. I’m letting you go without notice or terminal pay. You just lost another chance to make good. But then I watch myself standing at the exit, depressed and about to leave, and wave myself back in wearily, for who else could I get in my place to do the job in dark, airless conditions? |
ills and pills
To Aspire~
copyrighted by tena The most amazing part of gazing or playing church consisted of A uniformed penitent attire which a giggle was to put afoot afire Dragged by arm acrossed a pew No joyous smile would nun forgive It was time to be sad and mourn Heart inside cried out,let me live As a Catholic wildchild twas required to attend the Mass A weekly sacrifice to acquire My Salvation or Damnation pass Flunk or fail, to prevail was amusing The singing was not of joy but dread The sound of dirges was I to sing To the King upon a cross lie dead All the beauty of His Life God was good not cruel I did not learn as a little child When I attended Catholic School |
this is an original poem by me - DocJohn...*smiile
Stay me - at a distance dear sir
You make me feel feared You push me away like I have no feelings You tell me nothing I need to hear You cant say love - not of your own wanting But by the book you make it divine I do not like love if forced unless it is of free heart and will You hate me by my genders faults You have me well kept - dear sir A silent listen in my brain Dear sir you afford my lovely little cage yet I would rather take my leave tonight To be free of body and rejoice in my Lord When you cut me I bleed, you say-it's about you You tell me to listen -it's not about me Listen -listen then in silent disconnect You make me feared in my heart again So if it is not love or about love If it duty -then do the duty for God Stay me at - a distance, dear sir written by -tenalouise |
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the land of beginning again -poem
The Land of Beginning Again
"I wish that there were some wonderful place In the Land of Beginning Again. Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches And all of our poor selfish grief Could be dropped like a shabby old coat at the door and never put on again. I wish we could come on it all unaware, Like the hunter who finds a lost trail; And I wish that the one whom our blindness had done The greatest injustice of all Could be there at the gates like an old friend that waits For the comrade he's gladdest to hail. We would find all the things we intended to do But forgot, and remembered too late, Little praises unspoken, little promises broken, And all the thousand and one Little duties neglected that might have perfected The day for one less fortunate. It wouldn't be possible not to be kind In the Land of Beginning Again, And the ones we misjudged and the ones whom we grudged their moments of victory here, Would find in the grasp of our loving hand-clasp More than penitent lips could explain... So I wish that there were some wonderful place Called the Land of Beginning Again, Where all our mistakes and all our heartaches, And all of our poor selfish grief Could be dropped like a shabby old coat at the door And never put on again." -Louise Fletcher Tarkington |
a visual poem
entitled - doctor my eyes have seen the years...
jackson browne lyrics http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3244/...d37b7193d5.jpg |
poem by william butler yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead And hid his face amid a crowd of stars. |
Wow...turn up the volume!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKCVS57j284 ahhhhhhhhhhhhh yes! __________________ |
A BLAST from my past. :D
My ex-husband tried to get back with me after we divorced. Things were going along fine when one day I ran into his mother at the hospital where I worked. She asked me if I'd seen her son lately, then asked if I was aware he'd remarried. HUH - WTH? :eek::mad: Boy did that one ever blow up in his face. There was no talking his way out of this one. His new wife was a singer and when she got wind of him continuing to see me, she made this song. It was her only hit - at least she got something out of it. :D After all these years, she's STILL livid. Oh well, her kids are sweet. Here she is venting her anger at my ex.....:p http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PV6Is...eature=related |
Morning smiles - aka FEAR
Morning smiles
like the face of a newborn child innocent unknowing Winter's end promises of a long lost friend speaks to me of comfort but I fear I have nothing to give I have so much to lose here in this lonely place tangled up in our embrace there's nothing I'd like better than to fall but I fear I have nothing to give Wind in time rapes the flower trembling on the vine nothing yields to shelter it from above they say temptation will destroy our love the never ending hunger but I fear I have nothing to give I have so much to lose here in this lonely place tangled up in our embrace there's nothing I'd like better than to fall but I fear I have nothing to give I have so much to lose I have nothing to give We have so much to lose... Sarah McLachlan my youtube film http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PkRQHnu9B8 |
The Portrait by Stanley Kunitz
My mother never forgave my father
for killing himself, especially at such an awkward time and in a public park, that spring when I was waiting to be born. She locked his name in her deepest cabinet and would not let him out, though I could hear him thumping. When I came down from the attic wih the pastel portrait in my hand of a long-lipped stranger with a brave moustache and deep brown level eyes, she ripped it into shreds without a single word and slapped me hard. In my sixty-fourth year I can feel my cheek still burning. |
Hast thou no scar
by Amy Carmichael Hast thou no scar? No hidden scar on foot, or side, or hand? I hear thee sung as mighty in the land, I hear them hail thy bright ascendant star, Hast thou no scar? No wound? No scar? Yet, as the Master shall the servant be, And pierced are the feet that follow Me; But thine are whole. Can he have followed far Who has nor wound nor scar? |
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJIqxMOy-uw
This song was playing on the radio as I helped take my best friend home - driving behind her family in her funeral procession. She liked the song too. ***** Take that look of worry I'm an ordinary man They don't tell me nothing So I find out what I can There's a fire that's been burning Right outside my door I can't see but I feel it And it helps to keep me warm So I, I don't mind No I, I don't mind Seems so long I've been waiting Still don't know what for There's no point escaping I don't worry anymore I can't come out to find you I don't like to go outside They can't turn off my feelings Like they're turning off a light But I, I don't mind No I, I don't mind Oh I, I don't mind No I, I don't mind So take, take me home Cos I don't remember Take, take me home Cos I don't remember Take, take me home Cos I don't remember Take, take me home, oh lord Cos I've been a prisoner all my life And I can say to you Take that look of worry, mine's an ordinary life Working when it's daylight And sleeping when it's night I've got no far horizons I don't wish upon a star They don't think that I listen Oh but I know who they are And I, I don't mind No I, I don't mind Oh I, I don't mind No I, I don't mind So take, take me home Cos I don't remember Take, take me home Cos I don't remember Take, take me home Cos I don't remember Take, take me home, oh lord Well I've been a prisoner all my life And I can say to you But I don't remember Take, take me home.. |
my favorite poem
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life's scars
Life's Scars
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox They say the world is round, and yet I often think it square, So many little hurts we get From corners here and there. But one great truth in life I've found, While journeying to the West- The only folks who really wound Are those we love the best. The man you thoroughly despise Can rouse your wrath, 'tis true; Annoyance in your heart will rise At things mere strangers do; But those are only passing ills; This rule all lives will prove; The rankling wound which aches and thrills Is dealt by hands we love. The choicest garb, the sweetest grace, Are oft to strangers shown; The careless mien, the frowning face, Are given to our own. We flatter those we scarcely know, We please the fleeting guest, And deal full many a thoughtless blow To those who love us best. Love does not grow on every tree, Nor true hearts yearly bloom. Alas for those who only see This cut across a tomb! But, soon or late, the fact grows plain To all through sorrow's test: The only folks who give us pain Are those we love the best. |
a quote from a poem -
O men, grown sick with toil and care,
Leave for awhile the crowded mart; O women, sinking with despair, Weary of limb and faint of heart, Forget your years to-day and come As children back to childhood's house |
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