Friday, May 27, 2011
Once upon a time
I wanted to love. I wanted to be love. I wanted to know all there was in the world of man. I wanted to know your name, the one you whispered to the night and gave your dreams flight. I wanted to worship, to believe in god and bow in awe of all that I beheld.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
To My Brother George
Full many a dreary hour have I past,
My brain bewildered, and my mind o'ercast
With heaviness; in seasons when I've thought
No spherey strains by me could e'er be caught
From the blue dome, though I to dimness gaze
On the far depth where sheeted lightning plays;
Or, on the wavy grass outstretched supinely,
Pry 'mong the stars, to strive to think divinely:
That I should never hear Apollo's song,
Though feathery clouds were floating all along
The purple west, and, two bright streaks between,
The golden lyre itself were dimly seen:
That the still murmur of the honey bee
Would never teach a rural song to me:
That the bright glance from beauty's eyelids slanting
Would never make a lay of mine enchanting,
Or warm my breast with ardour to unfold
Some tale of love and arms in time of old.
But there are times, when those that love the bay,
Fly from all sorrowing far, far away;
A sudden glow comes on them, nought they see
In water, earth, or air, but poesy.
It has been said, dear George, and true I hold it,
(For knightly Spenser to Libertas told it,)
That when a Poet is in such a trance,
In air her sees white coursers paw, and prance,
Bestridden of gay knights, in gay apparel,
Who at each other tilt in playful quarrel,
And what we, ignorantly, sheet-lightning call,
Is the swift opening of their wide portal,
When the bright warder blows his trumpet clear,
Whose tones reach nought on earth but Poet's ear.
When these enchanted portals open wide,
And through the light the horsemen swiftly glide,
The Poet's eye can reach those golden halls,
And view the glory of their festivals:
Their ladies fair, that in the distance seem
Fit for the silv'ring of a seraph's dream;
Their rich brimmed goblets, that incessant run
Like the bright spots that move about the sun;
And, when upheld, the wine from each bright jar
Pours with the lustre of a falling star.
Yet further off, are dimly seen their bowers,
Of which, no mortal eye can reach the flowers;
And 'tis right just, for well Apollo knows
'Twould make the Poet quarrel with the rose.
All that's revealed from that far seat of blisses
Is the clear fountains' interchanging kisses,
As gracefully descending, light and thin,
Like silver streaks across a dolphin's fin,
When he upswimmeth from the coral caves,
And sports with half his tail above the waves.
These wonders strange he sees, and many more,
Whose head is pregnant with poetic lore.
Should he upon an evening ramble fare
With forehead to the soothing breezes bare,
Would he nought see but the dark, silent blue
With all its diamonds trembling through and through?
Or the coy moon, when in the waviness
Of whitest clouds she does her beauty dress,
And staidly paces higher up, and higher,
Like a sweet nun in holy-day attire?
Ah, yes! much more would start into his sight—
The revelries and mysteries of night:
And should I ever see them, I will tell you
Such tales as needs must with amazement spell you.
These are the living pleasures of the bard:
But richer far posterity's reward.
What does he murmur with his latest breath,
While his proud eye looks though the film of death?
"What though I leave this dull and earthly mould,
Yet shall my spirit lofty converse hold
With after times.—The patriot shall feel
My stern alarum, and unsheath his steel;
Or, in the senate thunder out my numbers
To startle princes from their easy slumbers.
The sage will mingle with each moral theme
My happy thoughts sententious; he will teem
With lofty periods when my verses fire him,
And then I'll stoop from heaven to inspire him.
Lays have I left of such a dear delight
That maids will sing them on their bridal night.
Gay villagers, upon a morn of May,
When they have tired their gentle limbs with play
And formed a snowy circle on the grass,
And placed in midst of all that lovely lass
Who chosen is their queen,—with her fine head
Crowned with flowers purple, white, and red:
For there the lily, and the musk-rose, sighing,
Are emblems true of hapless lovers dying:
Between her breasts, that never yet felt trouble,
A bunch of violets full blown, and double,
Serenely sleep:—she from a casket takes
A little book,—and then a joy awakes
About each youthful heart,—with stifled cries,
And rubbing of white hands, and sparkling eyes:
For she's to read a tale of hopes, and fears;
One that I fostered in my youthful years:
The pearls, that on each glist'ning circlet sleep,
Must ever and anon with silent creep,
Lured by the innocent dimples. To sweet rest
Shall the dear babe, upon its mother's breast,
Be lulled with songs of mine. Fair world, adieu!
Thy dales, and hills, are fading from my view:
Swiftly I mount, upon wide spreading pinions,
Far from the narrow bound of thy dominions.
Full joy I feel, while thus I cleave the air,
That my soft verse will charm thy daughters fair,
And warm thy sons!" Ah, my dear friend and brother,
Could I, at once, my mad ambition smother,
For tasting joys like these, sure I should be
Happier, and dearer to society.
At times, 'tis true, I've felt relief from pain
When some bright thought has darted through my brain:
Through all that day I've felt a greater pleasure
Than if I'd brought to light a hidden treasure.
As to my sonnets, though none else should heed them,
I feel delighted, still, that you should read them.
Of late, too, I have had much calm enjoyment,
Stretched on the grass at my best loved employment
Of scribbling lines for you. These things I thought
While, in my face, the freshest breeze I caught.
E'en now I'm pillowed on a bed of flowers
That crowns a lofty clift, which proudly towers
Above the ocean-waves, The stalks, and blades,
Chequer my tablet with their quivering shades.
On one side is a field of drooping oats,
Through which the poppies show their scarlet coats;
So pert and useless, that they bring to mind
The scarlet coats that pester human-kind.
And on the other side, outspread, is seen
Ocean's blue mantle streaked with purple, and green.
Now 'tis I see a canvassed ship, and now
Mark the bright silver curling round her prow.
I see the lark dowm-dropping to his nest,
And the broad winged sea-gull never at rest;
For when no more he spreads his feathers free,
His breast is dancing on the restless sea.
Now I direct my eyes into the west,
Which at this moment is in sunbeams drest:
Why westward turn? 'Twas but to say adieu!
'Twas but to kiss my hand, dear George, to you!
-------------------------------------------------John Keats
My brain bewildered, and my mind o'ercast
With heaviness; in seasons when I've thought
No spherey strains by me could e'er be caught
From the blue dome, though I to dimness gaze
On the far depth where sheeted lightning plays;
Or, on the wavy grass outstretched supinely,
Pry 'mong the stars, to strive to think divinely:
That I should never hear Apollo's song,
Though feathery clouds were floating all along
The purple west, and, two bright streaks between,
The golden lyre itself were dimly seen:
That the still murmur of the honey bee
Would never teach a rural song to me:
That the bright glance from beauty's eyelids slanting
Would never make a lay of mine enchanting,
Or warm my breast with ardour to unfold
Some tale of love and arms in time of old.
But there are times, when those that love the bay,
Fly from all sorrowing far, far away;
A sudden glow comes on them, nought they see
In water, earth, or air, but poesy.
It has been said, dear George, and true I hold it,
(For knightly Spenser to Libertas told it,)
That when a Poet is in such a trance,
In air her sees white coursers paw, and prance,
Bestridden of gay knights, in gay apparel,
Who at each other tilt in playful quarrel,
And what we, ignorantly, sheet-lightning call,
Is the swift opening of their wide portal,
When the bright warder blows his trumpet clear,
Whose tones reach nought on earth but Poet's ear.
When these enchanted portals open wide,
And through the light the horsemen swiftly glide,
The Poet's eye can reach those golden halls,
And view the glory of their festivals:
Their ladies fair, that in the distance seem
Fit for the silv'ring of a seraph's dream;
Their rich brimmed goblets, that incessant run
Like the bright spots that move about the sun;
And, when upheld, the wine from each bright jar
Pours with the lustre of a falling star.
Yet further off, are dimly seen their bowers,
Of which, no mortal eye can reach the flowers;
And 'tis right just, for well Apollo knows
'Twould make the Poet quarrel with the rose.
All that's revealed from that far seat of blisses
Is the clear fountains' interchanging kisses,
As gracefully descending, light and thin,
Like silver streaks across a dolphin's fin,
When he upswimmeth from the coral caves,
And sports with half his tail above the waves.
These wonders strange he sees, and many more,
Whose head is pregnant with poetic lore.
Should he upon an evening ramble fare
With forehead to the soothing breezes bare,
Would he nought see but the dark, silent blue
With all its diamonds trembling through and through?
Or the coy moon, when in the waviness
Of whitest clouds she does her beauty dress,
And staidly paces higher up, and higher,
Like a sweet nun in holy-day attire?
Ah, yes! much more would start into his sight—
The revelries and mysteries of night:
And should I ever see them, I will tell you
Such tales as needs must with amazement spell you.
These are the living pleasures of the bard:
But richer far posterity's reward.
What does he murmur with his latest breath,
While his proud eye looks though the film of death?
"What though I leave this dull and earthly mould,
Yet shall my spirit lofty converse hold
With after times.—The patriot shall feel
My stern alarum, and unsheath his steel;
Or, in the senate thunder out my numbers
To startle princes from their easy slumbers.
The sage will mingle with each moral theme
My happy thoughts sententious; he will teem
With lofty periods when my verses fire him,
And then I'll stoop from heaven to inspire him.
Lays have I left of such a dear delight
That maids will sing them on their bridal night.
Gay villagers, upon a morn of May,
When they have tired their gentle limbs with play
And formed a snowy circle on the grass,
And placed in midst of all that lovely lass
Who chosen is their queen,—with her fine head
Crowned with flowers purple, white, and red:
For there the lily, and the musk-rose, sighing,
Are emblems true of hapless lovers dying:
Between her breasts, that never yet felt trouble,
A bunch of violets full blown, and double,
Serenely sleep:—she from a casket takes
A little book,—and then a joy awakes
About each youthful heart,—with stifled cries,
And rubbing of white hands, and sparkling eyes:
For she's to read a tale of hopes, and fears;
One that I fostered in my youthful years:
The pearls, that on each glist'ning circlet sleep,
Must ever and anon with silent creep,
Lured by the innocent dimples. To sweet rest
Shall the dear babe, upon its mother's breast,
Be lulled with songs of mine. Fair world, adieu!
Thy dales, and hills, are fading from my view:
Swiftly I mount, upon wide spreading pinions,
Far from the narrow bound of thy dominions.
Full joy I feel, while thus I cleave the air,
That my soft verse will charm thy daughters fair,
And warm thy sons!" Ah, my dear friend and brother,
Could I, at once, my mad ambition smother,
For tasting joys like these, sure I should be
Happier, and dearer to society.
At times, 'tis true, I've felt relief from pain
When some bright thought has darted through my brain:
Through all that day I've felt a greater pleasure
Than if I'd brought to light a hidden treasure.
As to my sonnets, though none else should heed them,
I feel delighted, still, that you should read them.
Of late, too, I have had much calm enjoyment,
Stretched on the grass at my best loved employment
Of scribbling lines for you. These things I thought
While, in my face, the freshest breeze I caught.
E'en now I'm pillowed on a bed of flowers
That crowns a lofty clift, which proudly towers
Above the ocean-waves, The stalks, and blades,
Chequer my tablet with their quivering shades.
On one side is a field of drooping oats,
Through which the poppies show their scarlet coats;
So pert and useless, that they bring to mind
The scarlet coats that pester human-kind.
And on the other side, outspread, is seen
Ocean's blue mantle streaked with purple, and green.
Now 'tis I see a canvassed ship, and now
Mark the bright silver curling round her prow.
I see the lark dowm-dropping to his nest,
And the broad winged sea-gull never at rest;
For when no more he spreads his feathers free,
His breast is dancing on the restless sea.
Now I direct my eyes into the west,
Which at this moment is in sunbeams drest:
Why westward turn? 'Twas but to say adieu!
'Twas but to kiss my hand, dear George, to you!
-------------------------------------------------John Keats
Monday, May 23, 2011
Raptured!
Greetings earthlings! If you're reading this, you're probably still stuck on earth! The rapture went fine and heaven is okay so far; we're all lining up to enter this tall white tower where sounds of praise can be heard. I've noticed some really excited people walking in the opposite direction; MJ, Marvin Gaye and I think I saw Pac and Biggie share some chronic and overheard Pac say "Thugz mansion is in the other direction" I think I'm in the wrong line!
Friday, May 20, 2011
If the world should pass away tomorrow
I want you to know that you're the best thing that has ever happened to me.
There was a time when I didn't know what it was all for. Life it seemed was stacked against me by an unseen force that paid no heed to my cries. I would have unraveled the string that tied me to everything if I had found the will to tug at it.
I knew you from the beginning; before the flesh, before the eye of mind could paint your face. You were in my heart, calling me forth. I heard your voice, in the still silent moment before the plunge, I heard you will it to live and let nothing within die.
I want you to know that I trust you with the nakedness of a newborn babe; that in this facade I cannot hide from you.
I want you to know that I have hope in you; that tomorrow will be better for two and the skies oh so sunny and blue.
I want you to know that I love you.
There was a time when I didn't know what it was all for. Life it seemed was stacked against me by an unseen force that paid no heed to my cries. I would have unraveled the string that tied me to everything if I had found the will to tug at it.
I knew you from the beginning; before the flesh, before the eye of mind could paint your face. You were in my heart, calling me forth. I heard your voice, in the still silent moment before the plunge, I heard you will it to live and let nothing within die.
I want you to know that I trust you with the nakedness of a newborn babe; that in this facade I cannot hide from you.
I want you to know that I have hope in you; that tomorrow will be better for two and the skies oh so sunny and blue.
I want you to know that I love you.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Test Emails
In the spring of 1643, Jacob travelled down to the shores of the Mediterranean and set sail for the dark continent of Africa. At first, he couldn't find any captain willing to go that far out to sea. "There be monsters there" said George "Skinny" McPhallon, who had sailed farthest of any known man. He was a legend in the sailors' club, talked about as far as the northern tip of Galicia. Captain Skinny first went out to sea when he was nine years old. His father, a well known sailor from the isles of Albion had taken him out on his birthday, to teach him the ropes, so he said.
*
This is not a drill. In the 5th year of the 23rd vertical lunar shift, Kashar left the aqua colony of Aegrat for the southern system of Klom. He was accompanied by the 3rd guard of her royal highness, queen Pax.
*
I am all alone. This empty place weighs on my soul. I cannot leave for there is nothing anywhere else. There is no anywhere else only here and I. All alone.
*
The World is mine....mwahahahahahaha!
*
*
This is not a drill. In the 5th year of the 23rd vertical lunar shift, Kashar left the aqua colony of Aegrat for the southern system of Klom. He was accompanied by the 3rd guard of her royal highness, queen Pax.
*
I am all alone. This empty place weighs on my soul. I cannot leave for there is nothing anywhere else. There is no anywhere else only here and I. All alone.
*
The World is mine....mwahahahahahaha!
*
Someone Like You
I heard that you're settled down,
That you found a girl and you're married now,
I heard that your dreams came true,
Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you,
Old friend, why are you so shy?
Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light,
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,
I had hoped you'd see my face,
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over,
Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you, too,
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead,"
Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead, yeah,
You know how the time flies,
Only yesterday was the time of our lives,
We were born and raised in a summer haze,
Bound by the surprise of our glory days,
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,
I had hoped you'd see my face,
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over,
Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you, too,
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead,"
Nothing compares,
No worries or cares,
Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made,
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?
Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you,
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead,"
Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you, too,
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead,"
Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead.
---------------------------------Adele
That you found a girl and you're married now,
I heard that your dreams came true,
Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you,
Old friend, why are you so shy?
Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light,
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,
I had hoped you'd see my face,
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over,
Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you, too,
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead,"
Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead, yeah,
You know how the time flies,
Only yesterday was the time of our lives,
We were born and raised in a summer haze,
Bound by the surprise of our glory days,
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,
I had hoped you'd see my face,
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over,
Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you, too,
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead,"
Nothing compares,
No worries or cares,
Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made,
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?
Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you,
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead,"
Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you, too,
Don't forget me, I beg,
I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead,"
Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead.
---------------------------------Adele
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Turning Pink
I'm starting to dislike my government very much, it shows so much fear, infantile logic and an alarming willingness to resort to violence. That is not what I want from it. I want it to be just, to inspire me to be a better person and to help me create a better place for my kin and I to live in. I don't want it to threaten me with death should I choose to differ in opinion and practice, if that is the society it wishes to create, then I would rather not be party to it.
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Tomato Sandwich
The only person you have to fight with is yourself, when all the anger is done, when the flame has burned out, and the people say that it was all your fault, that the sin was borne in the circumstance, dead and decaying, what they taught was wrong from the beginning, if I was to be the unfortunate one to tell you of how it is to be the bastard son of a dead ideaology, I would say you rather give me death than pent up animosity.
I have learned, somehow, through the years, that anger destroys first and foremost he who wields it, for then it leads him to violence. The lessons to be learned from an act of violence are without number for he can never truly know what he could have done to stop it from happening in the first place. Yet there is what you know, in the myriad happenstances of life, you are here.
You must know how to save a life, first and foremost your own. If you should find yourself on the edge of destruction, and in the passions of strife choose to fight against the world, know well how to save thy soul, for it is only you at the beginning and the end.
I have been angry, at many things. {Okaay, I just made the best sandwich in the whole world! Its a brown bread, tomato sandwich with mayo and a sprinkling of salt. Right now, I'm going to take a big bite and get lost in some other world, only for a moment.}
I got angry at life a long time ago, I was told once that life was meant to be harsh to me, that did i not know that I was an orphan? Are you God's son, that you would utter these words and decree a life of servitude for a man? When I was younger, the only father I had was God and then I walked out of his house.
When the anger is done, there must be peace, for the soul must find rest in its understanding of the world. To be otherwise is to long for another state, of being, dead perhaps but you are here so you must find some sense, in all of it.
May it make you a better person, and may you leave by the wayside all that is between us sown with a bitterness of heart.
I have learned, somehow, through the years, that anger destroys first and foremost he who wields it, for then it leads him to violence. The lessons to be learned from an act of violence are without number for he can never truly know what he could have done to stop it from happening in the first place. Yet there is what you know, in the myriad happenstances of life, you are here.
You must know how to save a life, first and foremost your own. If you should find yourself on the edge of destruction, and in the passions of strife choose to fight against the world, know well how to save thy soul, for it is only you at the beginning and the end.
I have been angry, at many things. {Okaay, I just made the best sandwich in the whole world! Its a brown bread, tomato sandwich with mayo and a sprinkling of salt. Right now, I'm going to take a big bite and get lost in some other world, only for a moment.}
I got angry at life a long time ago, I was told once that life was meant to be harsh to me, that did i not know that I was an orphan? Are you God's son, that you would utter these words and decree a life of servitude for a man? When I was younger, the only father I had was God and then I walked out of his house.
When the anger is done, there must be peace, for the soul must find rest in its understanding of the world. To be otherwise is to long for another state, of being, dead perhaps but you are here so you must find some sense, in all of it.
May it make you a better person, and may you leave by the wayside all that is between us sown with a bitterness of heart.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Beef
I want to tell you that I am angry, that I hate you but its not true. I hate myself, for letting you make me feel this blue. Why am I so weak? Why do I believe? That when I speak, you will see everything in me?
I want to say that I am sorry, for making you believe that I wouldn't break but I am a fool. I thought it was brave to parade myself before you, bleeding and broken, but these words you've spoken burn through.
I want to say goodbye, to break the bonds and burn the bridges to that place called you. I am through, tis true, you broke me and now I shall forget you.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Rukurubana
I can feel the words tumbling in a distant place in my head. Whispers, echoes, engine revving up up up the hill. It carries, the sound across the valleys, mingled with the birds, the wind it brings delight in the promise of a sight.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Why I haven't written in a long while
"So I made up my mind not to come to you again to make you sad. For if I were to make you sad, who would be left to cheer me up? Only the very persons I had made sad. That is why I wrote that letter to you. I did not want to come to you and be made sad by the very people who should make me glad. For I am convinced that when I am happy, then all of you are happy too. I wrote you with a greatly troubled and distressed heart and with many tears; my purpose was not to make you sad, but to make you realize how much I love you all."
-------------------------------------------------------2 Corinthians 2:2
When I made up my mind to write, I decided that I would simply do it for myself and those that love words. I told myself it would not matter if I never made a cent off my writing (even though that is my dream) and that I would do it for the love of it. Then I became so sad and I didn't have the heart to tell you how much, though I probably did :-) somewhere somehow. I stopped writing, but never in my head, in the ether, screaming words and more often making unintelligible sounds. I could not come to you, I could not tell you, I could not move myself to show you. There was nothing, no trust and no hope.
You shall never truly know me nor I you. We are but two specks of dust blown by the eternal wind and I must go across the desert, all alone, for that is my path, home.
I am okay, I am happy, I am here.
-------------------------------------------------------2 Corinthians 2:2
When I made up my mind to write, I decided that I would simply do it for myself and those that love words. I told myself it would not matter if I never made a cent off my writing (even though that is my dream) and that I would do it for the love of it. Then I became so sad and I didn't have the heart to tell you how much, though I probably did :-) somewhere somehow. I stopped writing, but never in my head, in the ether, screaming words and more often making unintelligible sounds. I could not come to you, I could not tell you, I could not move myself to show you. There was nothing, no trust and no hope.
You shall never truly know me nor I you. We are but two specks of dust blown by the eternal wind and I must go across the desert, all alone, for that is my path, home.
I am okay, I am happy, I am here.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
It doesn't have to be this way
Sometimes I wonder where you’re coming from
when you roll in like thunder just to turn around and run…
it’s a good thing I don’t need you to stay
You smell like moonlight in early morning rain
Pray tell a fool might surrender to your pain
Or find a cure for your decay
You’re at your best with an ache in your chest
and that worn out old song that you play
Only Jesus and you who long to teach us
should no one be left to betray
I don’t know the answer but I know who to blame
You can choose the dancer and you can choose the flame
I think you’ll find they’re one in the same
It doesn’t have to be this way
You’re at your best with an ache in your chest
and that worn out old song that you play
Only Jesus and you who long to teach us
should no one be left to betray
I don’t know the answer but I know who to blame
Pray til a fool but surrender to your pain
It’s a good thing I don’t need you to stay
Sometimes I wonder where you’re coming from
when you roll in like thunder just to turn around and run
It’s a good thing I don’t need you to stay
It doesn’t have to be this way
---------------------Alison Krauss
when you roll in like thunder just to turn around and run…
it’s a good thing I don’t need you to stay
You smell like moonlight in early morning rain
Pray tell a fool might surrender to your pain
Or find a cure for your decay
You’re at your best with an ache in your chest
and that worn out old song that you play
Only Jesus and you who long to teach us
should no one be left to betray
I don’t know the answer but I know who to blame
You can choose the dancer and you can choose the flame
I think you’ll find they’re one in the same
It doesn’t have to be this way
You’re at your best with an ache in your chest
and that worn out old song that you play
Only Jesus and you who long to teach us
should no one be left to betray
I don’t know the answer but I know who to blame
Pray til a fool but surrender to your pain
It’s a good thing I don’t need you to stay
Sometimes I wonder where you’re coming from
when you roll in like thunder just to turn around and run
It’s a good thing I don’t need you to stay
It doesn’t have to be this way
---------------------Alison Krauss
Monday, March 07, 2011
Unfinished Life
It's an unfinished life that I find lies before me
An open-ended dream and I don't want to wake
I've crossed so many rivers in search of crystal fountains
I've found the truest paths always lead through mountains
I've seen water on the sky, and fire burning on the lake.
You said to me, "I cannot make you happy.
Like a wounded bird, you must find the strength to fly.
Time can paint the treetops with colors of the rainbow
But you cannot find the end, no matter how you try."
It's a journey with my soul that I am taking.
One that only goes from the cradle to the grave.
Going 'round in circles like painted dancing horses
Up and down we ride on the wooden courses.
And light from a lover's eyes is all that I can save.
You said to me, "I cannot make you happy.
Like a wounded bird, you must find the strength to fly.
Time can paint the treetops with colors of the rainbow
But you cannot find the end, no matter how you try."
So I’ll take the day and run out across the open fields
Where the grass grows high and the shadows fall
Where my eyes can see all the colors in the air
So quiet that the wind whistles in my hair
And takes the rising dust and carries it away.
You said to me, "I cannot make you happy.
Like a wounded bird, you must find the strength to fly.
Time can paint the treetops with colors of the rainbow
But you cannot find the end, no matter how you try."
..........................Kate Wolf
An open-ended dream and I don't want to wake
I've crossed so many rivers in search of crystal fountains
I've found the truest paths always lead through mountains
I've seen water on the sky, and fire burning on the lake.
You said to me, "I cannot make you happy.
Like a wounded bird, you must find the strength to fly.
Time can paint the treetops with colors of the rainbow
But you cannot find the end, no matter how you try."
It's a journey with my soul that I am taking.
One that only goes from the cradle to the grave.
Going 'round in circles like painted dancing horses
Up and down we ride on the wooden courses.
And light from a lover's eyes is all that I can save.
You said to me, "I cannot make you happy.
Like a wounded bird, you must find the strength to fly.
Time can paint the treetops with colors of the rainbow
But you cannot find the end, no matter how you try."
So I’ll take the day and run out across the open fields
Where the grass grows high and the shadows fall
Where my eyes can see all the colors in the air
So quiet that the wind whistles in my hair
And takes the rising dust and carries it away.
You said to me, "I cannot make you happy.
Like a wounded bird, you must find the strength to fly.
Time can paint the treetops with colors of the rainbow
But you cannot find the end, no matter how you try."
..........................Kate Wolf
Monday, February 21, 2011
Outside City Hall
This morning, a group of KCC workers blocked off Parliament avenue demanding payment of their salary arrears.
"I have not been paid for four months now."
"We want to see the town clerk."
I was on my way to Kibuli so I had to dash off; by the time I left, a police officer was trying to calm the workers down.
"I have not been paid for four months now."
"We want to see the town clerk."
I was on my way to Kibuli so I had to dash off; by the time I left, a police officer was trying to calm the workers down.
Friday, February 18, 2011
If I was president
- All politicians are liars.
- The electorate always behaves like a bunch of kids, a majority of it hardly understanding how their systems work and preferring a bandwagon to independent choice.
- In any system, the incumbent has the advantage of access to more resources, more so in Uganda.
- No idea should ever go without genuine and honest challenge, only then can its substance be truly understood and its merits and demerits put forth for all to measure.
- Corrupt leaders are only a reflection of a corrupt, morally deficient and weak society. Such societies never last more than a few generations, their deaths are always borne from within, beginning with fear.
- Government of the people, by the people and for the people shall never perish from the earth. Not as long as there are men and women willing to fight for it
- The most important leaders in a democratic government are those most immediate to the people.
- The people reserve the right to recall any ineffective representative at any point of their choosing. Exercise of this right is the ultimate form of democracy.
- I am going to put my MP to task in the next five years and if he's not up to scratch, I will ask him to return to his home and engage in other business.
- The People shall prevail, always, even under the most oppressive of leaderships, they shall always prevail.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Missing
Shu-doo-doo-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
I am Doolittle but I do a lot
I try to do the best with what I've got
Sometimes nobody notices at all
If I stood on a chair, I'd be taller
I know there's a million people like me
I'm sure a kick up the bum's all we need
We plan but it never comes true
All I need is somebody like you
Because I'm missing how you found me
I can't afford a bigger world but, baby, I'm reliable
I'll never go
If you find me, find me, find me, find me
Because I'm missing how you found me
If anybody has a key to spare a little dream for me
I'll let it be
That you find me, find me, finally found me
When I fall nobody helps me up
And when I call nobody's pickin' up the phone
It seems they won't even call me upon
Stickin' my face on a lamppost
So if you see me in your favorite spot
Just remember I could give you a lot
'Cause I stray in whatever I do
All I need is somebody like you
Because I'm missing how you found me
I can't afford a bigger world but, baby, I'm reliable
I'll never go
If you find me, find me, find me, find me
Because I'm missing how you found me
If anybody has a key to spare a little dream for me
I'll let it be
That you find me, find me, finally found me
I gotta get up
I gotta get up
I gotta get up
I gotta get up
So when you see me in your favorite spot
Just remember I could give you a lot
I came to see you when there's no use pretendin'
Let's hope it's a happier ending
Because I'm missing, yeah, you'll find me
I can't afford a bigger world but, baby, I'm reliable
I'll never go
If you find me, find me, find me, find me
Because I'm missing and you'll find me
If anybody has a key to spare a little dream for me
I'll let it be
That you finally, finally, finally found me
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
..................................Eliza Doolittle
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
I am Doolittle but I do a lot
I try to do the best with what I've got
Sometimes nobody notices at all
If I stood on a chair, I'd be taller
I know there's a million people like me
I'm sure a kick up the bum's all we need
We plan but it never comes true
All I need is somebody like you
Because I'm missing how you found me
I can't afford a bigger world but, baby, I'm reliable
I'll never go
If you find me, find me, find me, find me
Because I'm missing how you found me
If anybody has a key to spare a little dream for me
I'll let it be
That you find me, find me, finally found me
When I fall nobody helps me up
And when I call nobody's pickin' up the phone
It seems they won't even call me upon
Stickin' my face on a lamppost
So if you see me in your favorite spot
Just remember I could give you a lot
'Cause I stray in whatever I do
All I need is somebody like you
Because I'm missing how you found me
I can't afford a bigger world but, baby, I'm reliable
I'll never go
If you find me, find me, find me, find me
Because I'm missing how you found me
If anybody has a key to spare a little dream for me
I'll let it be
That you find me, find me, finally found me
I gotta get up
I gotta get up
I gotta get up
I gotta get up
So when you see me in your favorite spot
Just remember I could give you a lot
I came to see you when there's no use pretendin'
Let's hope it's a happier ending
Because I'm missing, yeah, you'll find me
I can't afford a bigger world but, baby, I'm reliable
I'll never go
If you find me, find me, find me, find me
Because I'm missing and you'll find me
If anybody has a key to spare a little dream for me
I'll let it be
That you finally, finally, finally found me
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
..................................Eliza Doolittle
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
Stylish and Versatile
Stylish he said, and versatile too; Sibo tagged me on his blog and now I am bound by all the rules of the blogosphere to tell you
- I have lost my belief in unconditional love. Everywhere I look, touch, taste and take in, is a million little conditions that one must fulfill before he or she is loved. She said to me that it was too hard for her, that she couldn't do it anymore, that all the little things were for a little more and if I wasn't willing to give, well...
- Everything I see is a mirror of me and all that I do is a mirror of you. I love you in my own way too but I do not know which is true, if we are one and two or I am only you.
- You are a star. In the dark depths of heaven you shine and I see your light. Shine
- I was once a child of love and she said to me, take me in your heart and go forth into the world.
- I am a child of death, always have been and always will be, and one day, she will claim me. Oh glorious day!
- I have hope, in you and me and what we could together be. I hope you shall believe with me.
- I am full of shit and the less you listen to me, the better off you will be. :-)
Hmmm...how many of you have steez? I must confess I haven't caught up on my favourite blogs in a while so I will tag less than the required 15.
ElleB who's disappeared from the blogging scene for more than a year now and her last blog comments are full of viagra ads. I'm sure she'll show up one day.
Number 27 who is way too intellectual for most of his peers. He once left a comment on my blog and then I guess after a few minutes decided to delete it but alas it was already in my inbox.
Spartakuss who like me is not afraid to say he likes Celine Dion.
Iwaya who is indeed mad but I'm not sure about crazy.
For this award the rules are clear;
1. Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to them in your post.
2. Tell us 7 things about yourself.
3. Award 15 other bloggers.(Good luck with that!)
4. Contact these bloggers and let them know they have won. (Um, by phone, fax or email?)
Friday, February 04, 2011
Rabbit Wabbit
It was the year of the rabbit. Having sat down for many a day and ploughed the mindfields, he was once again content with what was planted. The garden had needed tending, after so many years of being left to their own devices, all manner of things had grown there. There was the picture of the little girl with the umbrella and the wolf's tail. Jack had grown a garden of beans but none reached the sky. The old man with the grey wispy hair kept staring at him, asking if he had formed his resolve. He wanted to teach, the way of life, the way of death; the way of the sword.
He had been born in the year of the rat. The stars told him he was forthright, generous and easy going. He hadn't felt them in a while; there were things he couldn't say because there was always a condition. He wanted to give everything and hold back from none but he would surely die and maybe that was the path to walk, the way of death. It would not go easy, not with those whom he held dear, there was still fear.
All begins with the soul, the candle that lights the dark; the spirit moves and always it must, for to stay is to die, so it must grow and evolve; the body is only material, it will be shed one day and thus mark the end. Until then you must remain.
This is the year of the rabbit.
He had been born in the year of the rat. The stars told him he was forthright, generous and easy going. He hadn't felt them in a while; there were things he couldn't say because there was always a condition. He wanted to give everything and hold back from none but he would surely die and maybe that was the path to walk, the way of death. It would not go easy, not with those whom he held dear, there was still fear.
All begins with the soul, the candle that lights the dark; the spirit moves and always it must, for to stay is to die, so it must grow and evolve; the body is only material, it will be shed one day and thus mark the end. Until then you must remain.
This is the year of the rabbit.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Enlightened Anarchy
To me political power is not an end but one of the means of enabling people to better their condition in every department of life. Political power means capacity to regulate national life through national representatives. If national life becomes so perfect as to become self regulated, no representation becomes necessary. There is then a state of enlightened anarchy. In such a state every one is his own ruler. He rules himself in such a manner that he is never a hindrance to his neighbour. In the ideal State, therefore, there is no political power because there is no State. But the ideal is never fully realized in life. Hence the classical statement of Thoreau that that government is best which governs the least.
Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi; Young India, July 2, 1931
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