Saturday, November 26, 2016
Yes ,And You And I
A man conceived a moment's answers to the dream,
Staying the flowers daily, sensing all the themes.
As a foundation left to create the spiral aim,
A movement regained and regarded both the same,
All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you.
Staying the flowers daily, sensing all the themes.
As a foundation left to create the spiral aim,
A movement regained and regarded both the same,
All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you.
Changed only for a sight of sound, the space agreed.
Between the picture of time behind the face of need,
Coming quickly to terms of all expression laid,
Emotion revealed as the ocean maid,
All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you.
Oh.
Between the picture of time behind the face of need,
Coming quickly to terms of all expression laid,
Emotion revealed as the ocean maid,
All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you.
Oh.
Turn round tailor,
Coins and
Assaulting all the mornings of the
Crosses
Interest shown,
Never know
Presenting one another to the cord,
Their fruitless worth;
All left dying, rediscovered
Cords are broken,
Of the door that turned round,
Locked inside
To close the cover,
The mother earth.
All the interest shown,
They won't
To turn one another, to the sign
Hide, hold, they won't
At the time
Tell you, watching the world,
To float your climb.
Watching all of the world,
Watching us go by.
Coins and
Assaulting all the mornings of the
Crosses
Interest shown,
Never know
Presenting one another to the cord,
Their fruitless worth;
All left dying, rediscovered
Cords are broken,
Of the door that turned round,
Locked inside
To close the cover,
The mother earth.
All the interest shown,
They won't
To turn one another, to the sign
Hide, hold, they won't
At the time
Tell you, watching the world,
To float your climb.
Watching all of the world,
Watching us go by.
And you and I climb over the sea to the valley,
And you and I reached out for reasons to call.
And you and I reached out for reasons to call.
Coming quickly to terms of all expression laid,
Emotion revealed as the ocean maid,
As a movement regained and regarded both the same,
All complete in the side of seeds of life with you.
Emotion revealed as the ocean maid,
As a movement regained and regarded both the same,
All complete in the side of seeds of life with you.
Sad preacher nailed upon the coloured door of time;
Insane teacher be there reminded of the rhyme.
There'll be no mutant enemy we shall certify;
Political ends, as sad remains, will die.
Reach out as forward tastes begin to enter you.
Ooh, ooh.
Insane teacher be there reminded of the rhyme.
There'll be no mutant enemy we shall certify;
Political ends, as sad remains, will die.
Reach out as forward tastes begin to enter you.
Ooh, ooh.
I listened hard but could not see
Life tempo change out and inside me.
The preacher trained in all to lose his name;
The teacher travels, asking to be shown the same.
In the end, we'll agree, we'll accept, we'll immortalise
That the truth of the man maturing in his eyes,
All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you.
Life tempo change out and inside me.
The preacher trained in all to lose his name;
The teacher travels, asking to be shown the same.
In the end, we'll agree, we'll accept, we'll immortalise
That the truth of the man maturing in his eyes,
All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you.
Coming quickly to terms of all expression laid,
As a moment regained and regarded both the same,
Emotion revealed as the ocean maid,
A clearer future, morning, evening, nights with you.
As a moment regained and regarded both the same,
Emotion revealed as the ocean maid,
A clearer future, morning, evening, nights with you.
And you and I climb, crossing the shapes of the morning.
And you and I reach over the sun for the river.
And you and I climb, clearer, towards the movement.
And you and I called over valleys of endless seas.
And you and I reach over the sun for the river.
And you and I climb, clearer, towards the movement.
And you and I called over valleys of endless seas.
The Sound of Silence ...
sound of silence
who can sing the
sound of silence
who can translate
the voice of the heart
it is the listener
the witness
who can bridge
the in between
in the stillness
when birds' song
softly pauses
and the wind
makes the branches
tremble before
the rain will fall
then all green
sighs release
and birds will
sing again of the
holiness of silence
who can sing the
sound of silence
who can translate
the voice of the heart
it is the listener
the witness
who can bridge
the in between
in the stillness
when birds' song
softly pauses
and the wind
makes the branches
tremble before
the rain will fall
then all green
sighs release
and birds will
sing again of the
holiness of silence
bridge over troubled water, diary notes
here now 14.30 , cars driving with headlights on,
all is grey and the sky starts to darken.
inside i found another space, there is light, it opens,
i stretched in it to enjoy a slow day.
i am even not so sad as i could be
when i start to think.
the bridge over troubled water...,listening again to this
wonderful song, i see i am the bridge over mine,
but i cannot reach you and you cannot reach me.
we cannot bridge our troubled waters together.
we are stuck on the bridge.
it just is as it is.
somewhere across i lost my wings, i walk there,
i pick them up and fly my own way.
and now..i go to make a fire to keep me warm
and i will play with paint. i missed it,
last time was March 2015.
much time has passed, time passed with absence,
longing, conflict´and self recognition, work, exhaustion,
frustration, illness, fear, pain, rare joy and abrupt endings,
the heart opening and closing,
reaching out and going inside.
when all this will not make sense anymore
i must find another way, a-way.
because alone it just doesn't make any sense.
alone i am nothing on this way.
then there must be another one for me
even if i have to cut it out of the bush and jungles
and stones ahead.
looking through my window all is getting darker, now.
sela.
all is grey and the sky starts to darken.
inside i found another space, there is light, it opens,
i stretched in it to enjoy a slow day.
i am even not so sad as i could be
when i start to think.
the bridge over troubled water...,listening again to this
wonderful song, i see i am the bridge over mine,
but i cannot reach you and you cannot reach me.
we cannot bridge our troubled waters together.
we are stuck on the bridge.
it just is as it is.
somewhere across i lost my wings, i walk there,
i pick them up and fly my own way.
and now..i go to make a fire to keep me warm
and i will play with paint. i missed it,
last time was March 2015.
much time has passed, time passed with absence,
longing, conflict´and self recognition, work, exhaustion,
frustration, illness, fear, pain, rare joy and abrupt endings,
the heart opening and closing,
reaching out and going inside.
when all this will not make sense anymore
i must find another way, a-way.
because alone it just doesn't make any sense.
alone i am nothing on this way.
then there must be another one for me
even if i have to cut it out of the bush and jungles
and stones ahead.
looking through my window all is getting darker, now.
sela.
quotes, lecture, Will Self, Scottish Book Week
"What Nabokov seems to have understood intuitively is what neuroscience is now proving: reading fiction enables a deeply memorable engagement with our sense of space and place."
...
"This is the so-called “tyranny of film”: editing methods that compel our attention, rather than leaving us free to absorb the narrative in our own way."
...
"This is the so-called “visualisation hypothesis” that proposes that people – and children in particular – find it harder not only to remember film as against spoken or written narratives, but also to come up with novel responses to them, because the amount of information they’re given, together with its determinate nature, forecloses imaginative response."
..
"But it may be the case that our children are in the larval stage of a new form of human being, one which no longer depends on their ability to tell the others where the food is. Why? Because, of course, they know where it is already, due to the absolute fluidity and ubiquity of bi-directional digital media. Indeed, there may not be any need to tell the others where the food is in the future, because in an important sense there are no others."
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/nov/25/will-self-humans-evolving-need-stories?CMP=share_btn_link
...
"This is the so-called “tyranny of film”: editing methods that compel our attention, rather than leaving us free to absorb the narrative in our own way."
...
"This is the so-called “visualisation hypothesis” that proposes that people – and children in particular – find it harder not only to remember film as against spoken or written narratives, but also to come up with novel responses to them, because the amount of information they’re given, together with its determinate nature, forecloses imaginative response."
..
"But it may be the case that our children are in the larval stage of a new form of human being, one which no longer depends on their ability to tell the others where the food is. Why? Because, of course, they know where it is already, due to the absolute fluidity and ubiquity of bi-directional digital media. Indeed, there may not be any need to tell the others where the food is in the future, because in an important sense there are no others."
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/nov/25/will-self-humans-evolving-need-stories?CMP=share_btn_link
"heart", a quote, Palmer J.Palmer
“Heart” comes from the Latin cor and points not merely to our emotions but to the core of the self, that center place where all of our ways of knowing converge — intellectual, emotional, sensory, intuitive, imaginative, experiential, relational, and bodily, among others. The heart is where we integrate what we know in our minds with what we know in our bones, the place where our knowledge can become more fully human. Cor is also the Latin root from which we get the word courage. When all that we understand of self and world comes together in the center place called the heart, we are more likely to find the courage to act humanely on what we know.
The politics of our time is the “politics of the brokenhearted” — an expression that will not be found in the analytical vocabulary of political science or in the strategic rhetoric of political organizing. Instead, it is an expression for the language of human wholeness. There are some human experiences that only the heart can comprehend and only heart-talk can convey."
from: Palmer J. Palmer, Healing the Heart of Democracy
squaring the circle
To where is this way
leaving algebra
for abracadabra,
finding pi
and to use
transcendence
for squaring the circle
when nobody can do it?
Noli turbare circulos meos,
o Archimedes, shouting
you didn't notice
death coming
the sword of
a simple soldier
ending equations
and approximations
and your circles
crossed, the sand
soaked with blood
for no sense at all
What is this way
to find pi
and not to
understand
ever
but circling
only to square
and then to die?
is death
the only key
to transcendence
or can we let circles
just be circles
and fill our cup
and empty it
enjoying the taste?
leaving algebra
for abracadabra,
finding pi
and to use
transcendence
for squaring the circle
when nobody can do it?
Noli turbare circulos meos,
o Archimedes, shouting
you didn't notice
death coming
the sword of
a simple soldier
ending equations
and approximations
and your circles
crossed, the sand
soaked with blood
for no sense at all
What is this way
to find pi
and not to
understand
ever
but circling
only to square
and then to die?
is death
the only key
to transcendence
or can we let circles
just be circles
and fill our cup
and empty it
enjoying the taste?
Bjork ,The anchor song
I live by the ocean
And during the night
I dive into it
Down to the bottom
Underneath all currents
And drop my anchor
As this is where I'm staying
This is my home
And during the night
I dive into it
Down to the bottom
Underneath all currents
And drop my anchor
As this is where I'm staying
This is my home
I live by the ocean
And during the night
I dive into it
Down to the bottom
Underneath all currents
And drop my anchor
As this is where I'm staying
This is my home
And during the night
I dive into it
Down to the bottom
Underneath all currents
And drop my anchor
As this is where I'm staying
This is my home
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