what if a much of which of a wind
gives the truth to summer's lie;
bloodies with dizzying leaves the sun
and yanks immortal stars awry?
Blow king to beggar and queen to seem
(blow friend to fiend:blow space to time)
--when skies are hanged and oceans drowned,
the single secret will still be man
what if a keen of a lean wind flays
screaming hills with sleet and snow:
strangles valleys by ropes of thing
and stifles forests in white ago?
Blow hope to terror;blow seeing to blind
(blow pity to envy and soul to mind)
--whose hearts are mountains,roots are trees,
it's they shall cry hello to spring
what if a dawn of a doom of a dream
bites this universe in two,
peels forever out of his grave
and sprinkles nowhere with me and you?
Blow soon to never and never to twice
(blow life to isn't:blow death to was)
--all nothing's only our hugest home;
the most who die,the more we live
my mother's mother cooked a storm
and in her home where i was born
grandpa gave me books for LOOK-seein'
warmed and paid for by my readin'em
dictionaries English ONLY and many
birds singin' along with Lily Pons
graduated to Britannica cashed in my
research stamps for dead sea scrolls
everything is true, the opposite of everything is also true
Honor your spirit tribe that hopes
your utile sacredness soon elopes
with all the members upon a trail
where Absolute Goodness will prevail
to mark a clearly trodden Way
for future souls to run and Play.
oh the credits? they are ALL mine :)
everything is true, the opposite of everything is also true
In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918
IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
There are some who can live without wild things and some who cannot. - Aldo Leopold
Time has Told Me by Nick
)
Time has Told Me by Nick Drake (1969)
Time has told me
You're a rare rare find
A troubled cure
For a troubled mind.
And time has told me
Not to ask for more
Someday our ocean
Will find its shore.
So I`ll leave the ways that are making me be
What I really don't want to be
Leave the ways that are making me love
What I really don't want to love.
Time has told me
You came with the dawn
A soul with no footprint
A rose with no thorn.
Your tears they tell me
There's really no way
Of ending your troubles
With things you can say.
And time will tell you
To stay by my side
To keep on trying
'til there's no more to hide.
So leave the ways that are making you be
What you really don't want to be
Leave the ways that are making you love
What you really don't want to love.
Time has told me
You're a rare rare find
A troubled cure
For a troubled mind.
And time has told me
Not to ask for more
For some day our ocean
Will find its shore.
Love, Michi
'The Wonder' by Sunirmalya
)
'The Wonder' by Sunirmalya Symons
The wonder and magnificence of life
Is that all its mysteries are answered
In the smallest of things
A raindrop,
A flame,
Or a grain of sand.
"We must be the change we wish to see."
Mahatma Gandhi
what if a much of which of a
)
what if a much of which of a wind
gives the truth to summer's lie;
bloodies with dizzying leaves the sun
and yanks immortal stars awry?
Blow king to beggar and queen to seem
(blow friend to fiend:blow space to time)
--when skies are hanged and oceans drowned,
the single secret will still be man
what if a keen of a lean wind flays
screaming hills with sleet and snow:
strangles valleys by ropes of thing
and stifles forests in white ago?
Blow hope to terror;blow seeing to blind
(blow pity to envy and soul to mind)
--whose hearts are mountains,roots are trees,
it's they shall cry hello to spring
what if a dawn of a doom of a dream
bites this universe in two,
peels forever out of his grave
and sprinkles nowhere with me and you?
Blow soon to never and never to twice
(blow life to isn't:blow death to was)
--all nothing's only our hugest home;
the most who die,the more we live
e.e. cummings
100 Selected Poems
THE MOTHER OF FOOLS IS ALWAYS PREGNANT
There once was a fly on the
)
There once was a fly on the wall
I wonder why didn't it fall
Because its feet stuck
Or was it just luck
Or does gravity miss things so small?
– Robert D. Cowan
me-[at]-rescam.org
like einstein, the new
)
like einstein, the new golem,
when he was still alive,
i'm fifty years ahead of my time;
even though my time is 1945;
a child of seven,
seeing heaven,
just a peak, the highest view,
came back to end world war two;
a wizard of loneliness,
untied and new;
everything is true, the opposite of everything is also true
parts of me have turned to
)
parts of me have turned to stone;
and my only joy is being alone;
other parts dissolve from me
into the next reality;
only my spirit truly lives
where other spirits always give
wholesomeness to who i am
everything is true, the opposite of everything is also true
To Dakota Jones my
)
To Dakota Jones
my mother's mother cooked a storm
and in her home where i was born
grandpa gave me books for LOOK-seein'
warmed and paid for by my readin'em
dictionaries English ONLY and many
birds singin' along with Lily Pons
graduated to Britannica cashed in my
research stamps for dead sea scrolls
everything is true, the opposite of everything is also true
Honor your spirit tribe that
)
Honor your spirit tribe that hopes
your utile sacredness soon elopes
with all the members upon a trail
where Absolute Goodness will prevail
to mark a clearly trodden Way
for future souls to run and Play.
oh the credits? they are ALL mine :)
everything is true, the opposite of everything is also true
In Flanders Fields By:
)
In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918
IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
There are some who can live without wild things and some who cannot. - Aldo Leopold
The Old Familiar Faces
)
The Old Familiar Faces
I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions,
In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days—
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have been laughing, I have been carousing,
Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies—
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I loved a Love once, fairest among women:
Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her—
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man:
Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly;
Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.
Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my childhood,
Earth seem'd a desert I was bound to traverse,
Seeking to find the old familiar faces.
Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother,
Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling?
So might we talk of the old familiar faces—
How some they have died, and some they have left me,
And some are taken from me; all are departed—
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
Charles Lamb. 1775–1834
"We must be the change we wish to see."
Mahatma Gandhi