please let this song buffer up

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLJf9qJHR3E

weep for yourself, my man,
you'll never be what is in your heart

weep little lion man,
you're not as brave as you were at the start

rate yourself and rake yourself,
take all the courage you have left

wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head

but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
i really flucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?

didn't I, my dear

tremble for yourself, my man,
you know that you have seen this all before

tremble little lion man,
you'll never settle any of your score

your grace is wasted in your face,
your boldness stands alone among the wreck

now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck

but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
i really flucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?

but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
i really flucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?

didn't I, my dear?

a agh a ghhhhhh aghhhhhhhhhhhh aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhagh agjh agh

agh a aghhhhhhhhagh agh agh aghhhhhhhhhhhhh


but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
i really flucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?

but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
i really flucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?

didn't I, my dear?



David [didn't i just]

Snail, snail, glister me forward,
Bird, soft-sigh me home,
Worm, be with me.
This is my hard time.

- Theodore Roethke

Story

by Sabine Miller


Tell me the one
about the sick girl —
not terminally ill, just years in bed
with this mysterious fever —
who hires a man
to murder her — you know,
so the family is spared
the blight of a suicide —
and the man comes
in the night, a strong man,
and nothing is spoken
—he takes the pillow
to her face — tell me
how he is haunted the rest
of his life — did he
or didn't he
do the right thing — tell me
how he is forgiven,
and marries, and has
2 daughters, and is happy —
no, tell me she doesn't
die, but is cured and
gives her life to God,
and becomes a hand-holder for
men on death row —
tell me the one where the man
falls in love with the girl
and can't do it, or
the girl falls in love
with a dog and calls
the man to tell him
not to come, or
how each sees their pain
mirrored in the other's eyes —
tell me how everyone is already
forgiven every story
they ever told themselves
about living
or not living —
tell me, oh tell me
the one where love wins, again
and again and again.


"Story" by Sabine Miller, from Circumference of Mercy. © Mountains and Rivers Press,

The Thing Is

by Ellen Bass


to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOGdU...eature=related

Rolls and flows of angel hair,
Ice cream castles in the air,
Feather canyons everywhere,
I've looked at clouds that way.
But now they only block the sun.
They rain, they snow on everyone.
So many things I would've done
But clouds got in my way.

I've looked at clouds from both sides now,
From up and down and still somehow
It's clouds' illusions I recall.
I really don't know clouds at all.

Moons and Junes and ferris wheels,
The dizzy, dancing way you feel
As every fairy tale comes real.
I've looked at love that way.
But now it's just another show.
Leave 'em laughin' when you go.
But if you care, don't let em' know
Don't give yourself away.

I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall.
I really don't know love at all.

Tears and fears and feeling proud,
Say "I love you" right out loud.
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way.
But now old friends are acting strange.
They shake their heads and say I've changed.
But something's lost when somethings gained
Living everyday.

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall.
I really don't know life at all.

Joni Mitchelle

David

Obituary

by Ronald Wallace


Just once, you say,
you'd like to see
an obituary in which
the deceased didn't succumb
after "a heroic struggle" with cancer,
or heart disease, or Alzheimer's, or
whatever it was
that finally took him down.
Just once, you say,
couldn't the obit read:
He got sick and quit.
He gave up the ghost.
He put up no fight at all.
Rolled over. Bailed out.
Got out while the getting was good.
Excused himself from life's feast.
You're making a joke and
I laugh, though you can't know
I'm considering exactly that:
no radical prostatectomy for me,
no matter what General Practitioner
and Major Oncologist may say.
I think, let that walnut-sized
pipsqueak have its way with me,
that pebble in cancer's slingshot
that brings dim Goliath down.
So, old friend, before I go
and take all the wide world with me,
I want you to know
I picked up the tip.
I skipped the main course,
I'm here in the punch line.
Old friend, the joke's on me.

Remberance Sunday 14/11/2010 11am [UK]

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condem
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

David

http://catalogliving.net/

This is too funny!

"The farmers called this spring, but nature was a moody *****, no less than an alley dog or a wanton wife." Karin Lowachee "*****" = female dog

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hWpWFfMghjU