Archive | March, 2011

The Sum of All Things. (yes, you are a marvel)

29 Mar
“Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that will never be again. And what do we teach our children? We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France. When will we also teach them what they are? We should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel? You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children.”     
 
Pablo Picasso
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you’ll put on your carpet slippers and stride out.

29 Mar

Instead of Terrific Music Tuesday, I wanted to post a poem by Anne Sexton, an amazing poet that I discovered (by way of an awesome poetry professor) in college. Couldn’t get enough of her.  She popped into my mind the other day and I’ve re-discovered her work all over again. This particular piece by her is nothing short of inspiring, especially in light of some significant steps that I’m thinking about taking in my life (and there are much deeper themes at work here, especially the transformative powers of pain, despair, and sorrow):

Courage
It is in the small things we see it.
The child’s first step,
as awesome as an earthquake.
The first time you rode a bike,
wallowing up the sidewalk.
The first spanking when your heart
went on a journey all alone.
When they called you crybaby
or poor or fatty or crazy
and made you into an alien,
you drank their acid
and concealed it.

Later,
if you faced the death of bombs and bullets
you did not do it with a banner,
you did it with only a hat to
cover your heart.
You did not fondle the weakness inside you
though it was there.
Your courage was a small coal
that you kept swallowing.
If your buddy saved you
and died himself in so doing,
then his courage was not courage,
it was love; love as simple as shaving soap.

Later,
if you have endured a great despair,
then you did it alone,
getting a transfusion from the fire,
picking the scabs off your heart,
then wringing it out like a sock.
Next, my kinsman, you powdered your sorrow,
you gave it a back rub
and then you covered it with a blanket
and after it had slept a while
it woke to the wings of the roses
and was transformed.

Later,
when you face old age and its natural conclusion
your courage will still be shown in the little ways,
each spring will be a sword you’ll sharpen,
those you love will live in a fever of love,
and you’ll bargain with the calendar
and at the last moment
when death opens the back door
you’ll put on your carpet slippers
and stride out.

dare you not to be moved.

25 Mar

Anyone who ever loved, could look at me
And know that I love you
Anyone who ever dreamed, could look at me
And know I dream of you
Knowing I love you, so…

Anyone who had a heart
Would take me in his arms and love me too
You couldn’t really have a heart and hurt me
Like you hurt me and be so untrue
What am I to do?

Everytime you go away, I always say
This time it’s goodbye, dear
Loving you the way I do
I take you back
Without you I’d die, dear
Knowing I love you, so…

Anyone who had a heart
Would take me in his arms and love me too
You couldn’t really have a heart and hurt me
Like you hurt me and be so untrue
What am I to do?

Knowing I love you, so…

Anyone who had a heart
Would take me in his arms and love me too
You couldn’t really have a heart and hurt me
Like you hurt me and be so untrue

Anyone who had a heart would love me too
Anyone who had a heart would truly take me
In his arms and always love me
Why won’t you?

Anyone who had a heart would love me too
Anyone who had a heart would truly take me
In his arms and always love me
Why won’t you?

Truly take me in his arms and always love me
Why won’t you?

to be real.

24 Mar

This day is already starting out bad.

I woke up late and exhausted (no one’s fault but my own; there’s no reason why I need to watch The Nanny at the wee hours of the morning, although the show is utterly hilarious); a cold rain is currently pounding the atmosphere (and I forgot my gloves, so, naturally, my hands instantly turned into icicles); certain ones I share the office with are extremely moody (no explanation needed); I have absolutely no motivation to do anything right now. And I’m cranky.

I hate days like this.

What Can You Say About a Legend?

23 Mar

One legend tributes another. Beautiful.

Dame Elizabeth Rosemond Taylor (February 27, 1932 – March 23, 2011).

23 Mar

Marvelous. Magnificent. Maggie the Cat. Missed.

Haiku? Thank you. #2

23 Mar

leave

an interesting hope

that dashed quickly to the ground.

time to leave it be

me

i do this always,

these delusions of grandeur.

come back to earth, me.

alone

return to the start.

alone again, naturally,

the solo shadow.

man

remember dashed hopes?

please don’t reach out to me, man–

can’t have it both ways.

BJ & FE SCOTT

...LIVING THE BEST LIFE EVER!

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