Crazy Heart Soundtrack - Jeff Bridges Fallin' Flyin' There is a verse of Hafiz which says, 'My heart is so pure in its love for you, that indeed it shows no purity; for save you it loves no one.' The apparent confusion of this thought lies in this: that to love sincerely one cannot love more than one. And yet love must grow, for to cease to grow means but to wither and to die.
Crazy Heart Jeff Bridges Hold on You
And to love one alone, and that one truly, is to expand and respond to all the beauty of life. The real lover laughs at him who says, 'I have loved, but my beloved failed me and therefore, I love no more.' The real lover, like Aladdin, has his magic lamp, and he creates his vision of beauty. The real lover cries like Majnun, 'To see the beloved you must have my eyes.' He says, 'O you who blame, you who despair, and you who hate, cannot see.'
Nick Cave - Shoot me Down
A flame of pure and sincere love is as a torch upon the path of the lover. It reveals to him the mysteries of life, as it awakens the answering gleam of light, the soul, in each created thing.
Watch mind at its core
How it weaves its web
Mirroring a tidy score
Affects the meekest more
CdB 2011
I make love with my eyes she said
Not with your body he asked?
To the cherry tree she said
The beetle on the grass
To the stone on a path
To the water
in the well
and even a bell
See them with the ears
and drink them with my tears
laugh with them
& cry with them
thru all their fears
Their companion
CdB 2011
Think it's time ..... have so many notes on my phone ..... ring them over
score them into the play
touchdown
Blushing Rhyme
Mostly short and sweet
22/06/2010
Late afternoon sunshine the gentlest
of breezes touches my cheek
fronds if the palm
tiniest white hairs charm
visible the gold of day
reflecting that which is
22/06/2010
Touched heaven this afternoon
Golden sunshine blushed my cheek
As I napped felt my heart soothed
To the beat and the rhythm
Warm and contented
21/08/2010
There is an understanding
Undertook a support in all forsook
Children brought into this world so cute
Lost control of all endured and
Still no hero of oldToday so many years atbay
Waters that went their way
The similar story does play
A ball a car to life's familiarities does dab
An attacking play pointed fingers
A woman's domain
As long as we eye them up and down
And all around
Aye but it is life's display
Don't you just love it
Watch in dismay
Life progresses day by day
Take your time
Take all there is to give
It is all there is
26/08/2010
Looked like a warehouse
Myra was there
Went on a bus
Brian was thereHad a major altercation
Such bright colors everywhere
Items not the actual place
Went to a restaurant for coffee
Was abducted by a Chinese lady
Who planted all these strange objects in me
Tons of them
A locker
Barbara
Swimming pool
Thought had left phone at restaurant
Could not get back there to find
but found elsewhere
missed the bus
Did not see Myra
A lot of carrying of stuff
Back and forth
Notes: 28/08/2010
Arkao
How I used to be
A couple of well placed bits with claws or feathers and eyes or paws.
I revere my dog and love him as the closest friend I ever had not as a deity not as the scoundrel that bites the one who shows not respect to his deity but as friend without condition however when going for a walk I do not (Now) run rings around the company jump up or down and lick faces to get the sympathy for acceptance ~ I quietly admire these faculties acquired through the analogies once aspired!
Think me not in contempt nor in utter deb-oar but once again in total awe! Nature of the evolving man descends upon my mere minds wanderings or should that be wanderings? From the kettle'd fish at the corner store to the veld and vlaktes that truly give me a draw - seeriously back to my story.
Many a foot have I washed and many a tower did I climb not once expecting a single dime Ran from a King and blushed at being called a Queen - me? Well, really I think someone may have their P's and Q's a tiny bit mixed up!
Oh many a cross I have carried and inadvertently tarried to the top, to the top of the circus tent, I scurried! Oh no kind sir you have it all wrong it is this way you would go up this mountain that hill over the grove or maybe just into that little cove. Faculties of men and mice that never even perceive thrice never mind the specialty of two or the spectacular awesomeness of one!
However, after diligently waving my invisible, or was that invincible wanderings abracadabra; and pebbled quite a few non-sensicle paths of my own - smelling the roses tasting the dew watching the little ants as they scuttled from view, came upon an opinion that truly in equality the bees knees so vastly outshine this mere mortal of mine!
God only knows
what if be without you? Moon shining on orchard row
(a phone number)??
Akion
Lisa se Klavier
Arkaodan roberts
riaan malan
dekarey
nagtegal
heuning land
staan by my my bra
skoor
liquid deep fairytale
(forget it no links ........) No Hero
I have no hero you see
Worship no idols
Only God in me
As all there is
is you and me
The same place we came
The same place we go
There is no fellow
There is no foe
It's a balance
Knowing
Good and bad
Not vengeful only sad
That life can make or break one
For care so much for another's trust
Glad to serve with total verve
Dedicated to hope and faith
One day one very fine day
He will be forgiving to us
Rewarding His peace
To all eternity
All men
Amen
4/08/2010
More Notes:08/08/2010
How I used to beNew kids on the block
What burns and bleeds with mortal
Truth lies deep within the bosom
Road to Mandalay
Nobody's home
Drive
I love to watch a woman dance
Into the fire - Bryan Adams
Don't leave me now Pink Ffloyd
Last days on earth
Giving it up for your love
So tired of this illusioned life
Take me to the river
24/08/2010
if words could express this road we
have walked with hands interlocked
minds entwined sharing the air
we breathe hearts that beat
would you stand to doubt
your inevitable seat?
be it today
be it tomorrow
there is a call I will follow!
So tired of this illusioned life
Strike me down for the err
Take me to the riverDrown this tired soul
Squeezing the living
Daylights out of me
Grind it into powder
Sprinkle it over the ridge
Out into the breeze
That I may vanish like mist
Some so rude
So terribly crude
Unloving unforgiving
Never again
Never again
This pain
Wind having a rip roaring time
hacked my garden this morning
doing cart wheels up churning
every leaf and blade
thank goodness
few petals are out
or they too would be
ripped about
so the banksia thrills
at winds
mighty hands
distributing her
lonely confetti
on the dry sand
24/08/2010
Sympathetic Character
Someone once said to me we are equal as I bowed down to Him as a superior a teacher which today I can somehow accept with reluctance yeah we are all teachers and some appear or are higher than others - so I agree in the physicality of the matters that pertain to vision in the here and now!
I write it simple
I write it whole
I write it from
.. the very soul
To the left to the left
Jack Johnson dreams
Bubbly toes
Second home by the sea
Sorry
To where you are
Across the river
The spirit of man
Falling into you
Incomplete
Waiting in the weeds
Miracle vertical horizon
I write it whole
I write it from
.. the very soul
To the left to the left
Jack Johnson dreams
Bubbly toes
Second home by the sea
Sorry
To where you are
Across the river
The spirit of man
Falling into you
Incomplete
Waiting in the weeds
Miracle vertical horizon
A couple of well placed bits with claws or feathers and eyes or paws.I revere my dog and love him as the closest friend I ever had not as a deity not as the scoundrel that bites the one who shows not respect to his deity but as friend without condition however when going for a walk I do not (Now) run rings around the company jump up or down and lick faces to get the sympathy for acceptance ~ I quietly admire these faculties acquired through the analogies once aspired!
Think me not in contempt nor in utter deb-oar but once again in total awe! Nature of the evolving man descends upon my mere minds wanderings or should that be wanderings? From the kettle'd fish at the corner store to the veld and vlaktes that truly give me a draw - seeriously back to my story.
Many a foot have I washed and many a tower did I climb not once expecting a single dime Ran from a King and blushed at being called a Queen - me? Well, really I think someone may have their P's and Q's a tiny bit mixed up!
Oh many a cross I have carried and inadvertently tarried to the top, to the top of the circus tent, I scurried! Oh no kind sir you have it all wrong it is this way you would go up this mountain that hill over the grove or maybe just into that little cove. Faculties of men and mice that never even perceive thrice never mind the specialty of two or the spectacular awesomeness of one!
However, after diligently waving my invisible, or was that invincible wanderings abracadabra; and pebbled quite a few non-sensicle paths of my own - smelling the roses tasting the dew watching the little ants as they scuttled from view, came upon an opinion that truly in equality the bees knees so vastly outshine this mere mortal of mine!
"Bee's knees" is actually one of a set of nonsense catchphrases from 1920s America, the period of the flappers. You might at that time have heard such curious concoctions as bee's knees, the cat's miaow, the elephant's adenoids, the tiger's spots, the bullfrog's beard, the elephant's instep, the caterpillar's kimono, the turtle's neck, the duck's quack, the gnat's elbows, the monkey's eyebrows, the oyster's earrings, the snake's hips, the kipper's knickers, the elephant's manicure, the clam's garter, the eel's ankle, the leopard's stripes, the tadpole's teddies, the sardine's whiskers, the pig's wings, the bullfrog's beard, the canary's tusks, the cuckoo's chin and the butterfly's book. *
C'est si bon
C'est si bon
"Because we have by today so deeply interior~eyezed writing, made it so much a part of ourselves, as Plato's age had not yet made it fully a part of itself, we find it difficult to consider writing to be a technology as we commonly assume printing and the computer to be. Yet writing (and especially alphabetic writing) is a technology, calling for the use of tools and other equipment: styli or brushes or pens, carefully prepared surfaces such as paper, animal skins, strips of wood, as well as inks or paints, and much more. … Writing is in a way the most drastic of the three technologies. It initiated what print and computers only continue, the reduction of dynamic sound to quiescent space, the separation of the word from the living present, where alone spoken words can exist." —Walter Ong
This inner world becomes a torrent
Water flows freely seeping in
Finding passage to every vein
Washing away the fears with tears
Cleansing cool clear nourishing
Peaceful at one ment of spirit
Acceptance in sand stone rock
Steadfast in persistence of life
Through plant shrub and tree
Gentle kind loving free
Movement of mind
Of the eternal find
Breathe the key
Fueling the fire
Deep within me
CdB 2010
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