Sunday, September 30, 2018
photos
when the moment
catches the mind,
the wind will lift us,
the sky will come.
catching the moment
only leaves skeletons,
to be shared-but why?
'just' a photo...
(Ireland)
catches the mind,
the wind will lift us,
the sky will come.
catching the moment
only leaves skeletons,
to be shared-but why?
'just' a photo...
(Ireland)
walking on water
steep the cliff,
like teeth of dinosaurs
sharp rock needles
in a roaring sea-
a peaceful day
with sheep, and a soul
talking to my heart
at the side of the road,
walking on calm water.
(Achill Island, Ireland)
like teeth of dinosaurs
sharp rock needles
in a roaring sea-
a peaceful day
with sheep, and a soul
talking to my heart
at the side of the road,
walking on calm water.
(Achill Island, Ireland)
naming the world
once i was a child,
i could see,
i learned flower,
then i learned water lily,
then i learned 'just' a flower
and right there i learned
'just' me and 'just' you
and 'just' them and worse,
'just' 'it'. it ...was worst.
but, i still meet beauty,
forgetting names.
(Bamboo Park, Glengarriff, Ireland)
i could see,
i learned flower,
then i learned water lily,
then i learned 'just' a flower
and right there i learned
'just' me and 'just' you
and 'just' them and worse,
'just' 'it'. it ...was worst.
but, i still meet beauty,
forgetting names.
(Bamboo Park, Glengarriff, Ireland)
autumn
autumn,
and i feel it inside,
dew drops slowly evaporating,
dripping through spider webs,
molecules of memory,
another summer lost,
me too slow drinking sun.
i didn't seek eternity,
found in still moments,
soon all will freeze.
where is the spider?
(Giants causeway, Ireland)
and i feel it inside,
dew drops slowly evaporating,
dripping through spider webs,
molecules of memory,
another summer lost,
me too slow drinking sun.
i didn't seek eternity,
found in still moments,
soon all will freeze.
where is the spider?
(Giants causeway, Ireland)
You'll Never Be The Sun, Dolores Keane
You'll never be the sun turning in the sky
And you won't be the moon above us on the moonlit night
And you won't be the stars in heaven although they burn so bright
But even on the deepest ocean you will be the light
You may not always shine as you go barefoot over stones
You might be so long together or you might walk alone
And you'll find that love comes easy
Or that love is always right
So even when the storm clouds gather you will be the light
And if you lose a parting side when love turns round on you
Leaving the past behind is knowing you'll do like you always
Holding you blind
Keeping you true
You'll never be the sun turning in the sky
And you won't be the moon above us on the moonlit night
And you won't be the stars in heaven although they burn so bright
But even on the deepest ocean you will be the light
You will be the light
You will be the light
Friday, September 14, 2018
Thursday, September 13, 2018
Wednesday, September 12, 2018
riddle
neither prism,
neither ray
nor light,
no wave nor line,
not water nor fire,
not nothing nor something.
not me and me,
the essence made
of day
and
of night,
i cannot be said
but named.
neither ray
nor light,
no wave nor line,
not water nor fire,
not nothing nor something.
not me and me,
the essence made
of day
and
of night,
i cannot be said
but named.
Tuesday, September 11, 2018
Monday, September 10, 2018
Sunday, September 9, 2018
John O'Donohue, Sweet Darkness
Sweet Darkness
(from Anam Cara by John O'Donohue) When your eyes are tired the world is tired also. When your vision has gone no part of the world can find you. Time to go into the dark where the night has eyes to recognize its own. There you can be sure you are not beyond love. The dark will be your womb tonight. The night will give you a horizon further than you can see. You must learn one thing. The world was made to be free in. Give up all the other worlds except the one to which you belong Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you.
(from Anam Cara by John O'Donohue) When your eyes are tired the world is tired also. When your vision has gone no part of the world can find you. Time to go into the dark where the night has eyes to recognize its own. There you can be sure you are not beyond love. The dark will be your womb tonight. The night will give you a horizon further than you can see. You must learn one thing. The world was made to be free in. Give up all the other worlds except the one to which you belong Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you.
Gacela del amor imprevisto, Federico Garcia Lorca
Nadie comprendía el perfume
de la oscura magnolia de tu vientre.
Nadie sabía que martirizabas
un colibrí de amor entre los dientes.
de la oscura magnolia de tu vientre.
Nadie sabía que martirizabas
un colibrí de amor entre los dientes.
Mil caballitos persas se dormían
en la plaza con luna de tu frente,
mientras que yo enlazaba cuatro noches
tu cintura, enemiga de la nieve.
en la plaza con luna de tu frente,
mientras que yo enlazaba cuatro noches
tu cintura, enemiga de la nieve.
Entre yeso y jazmines, tu mirada
era un pálido ramo de simientes.
Yo busqué, para darte, por mi pecho
las letras de marfil que dicen siempre.
era un pálido ramo de simientes.
Yo busqué, para darte, por mi pecho
las letras de marfil que dicen siempre.
Siempre, siempre: jardín de mi agonía,
tu cuerpo fugitivo para siempre,
la sangre de tus venas en mi boca,
tu boca ya sin luz para mi muerte.
tu cuerpo fugitivo para siempre,
la sangre de tus venas en mi boca,
tu boca ya sin luz para mi muerte.
Matsuo Basho, With every gust of wind
With every gust of wind,
the butterfly changes its place
on the willow.
the butterfly changes its place
on the willow.
Jorge Luis Borges, Simplicity, Llaneza
It opens, the gate to the garden
with the docility of a page
that frequent devotion questions
and inside, my gaze
has no need to fix on objects
that already exist, exact, in memory.
I know the customs and souls
and that dialect of allusions
that every human gathering goes weaving.
I've no need to speak
nor claim false privilege;
they know me well who surround me here,
know well my afflictions and weakness.
This is to reach the highest thing,
that Heaven perhaps will grant us:
not admiration or victory
but simply to be accepted
as part of an undeniable Reality,
like stones and trees.
Llaneza
with the docility of a page
that frequent devotion questions
and inside, my gaze
has no need to fix on objects
that already exist, exact, in memory.
I know the customs and souls
and that dialect of allusions
that every human gathering goes weaving.
I've no need to speak
nor claim false privilege;
they know me well who surround me here,
know well my afflictions and weakness.
This is to reach the highest thing,
that Heaven perhaps will grant us:
not admiration or victory
but simply to be accepted
as part of an undeniable Reality,
like stones and trees.
Llaneza
Se abre la verja del jardín
con la docilidad de la página
que una frecuente devoción interroga
y adentro las miradas
no precisan fijarse en los objetos
que ya están cabalmente en la memoria.
Conozco las costumbres y las almas
y ese dialecto de alusiones
que toda agrupación humana va urdiendo.
No necesito hablar
ni mentir privilegios;
bien me conocen quienes aquí me rodean,
bien saben mis congojas y mi flaqueza.
Eso es alcanzar lo más alto,
lo que tal vez nos dará el Cielo:
no admiraciones ni victorias
sino sencillamente ser admitidos
como parte de una Realidad innegable,
como las piedras y los árboles.
Dreams, Langston Hughes
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow
Saturday, September 8, 2018
Friday, September 7, 2018
Blessing, John O*Donohue
On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
Blessing, For Eros, John O'Donohue
For Eros
When you love,
May you feel the joy
Of your heart coming alive
As your lover’s gaze
Lands on your eyes,
Holding them,
Like the weight of a kiss,
Deepening.
May you feel the joy
Of your heart coming alive
As your lover’s gaze
Lands on your eyes,
Holding them,
Like the weight of a kiss,
Deepening.
May the words of love
Reach you and fluster
Your held self,
The way a silhouette of breeze
Excites a meadow.
Reach you and fluster
Your held self,
The way a silhouette of breeze
Excites a meadow.
When you are touched,
May it be the gentleness
You desire,
Your lover’s hands sending
Each caress deep into your skin
Like a discovering glance.
May it be the gentleness
You desire,
Your lover’s hands sending
Each caress deep into your skin
Like a discovering glance.
May slow sequences
Of kisses discover
Your secret echoes.
Of kisses discover
Your secret echoes.
May your desire flow free
And never be fettered
By the thorn-chains
Of old guilt
Or crippled touch.
And never be fettered
By the thorn-chains
Of old guilt
Or crippled touch.
May you feel
How your soul loves
When your skin glows,
And your eyes darken
When promise ripens.
How your soul loves
When your skin glows,
And your eyes darken
When promise ripens.
In the gaze of your
lover,
May you see clearer
In the mirror
Of your own being.
May the silences
Be spaces where you
Can gather swiftly,
At ease with all
The subtle complexity.
May you see clearer
In the mirror
Of your own being.
May the silences
Be spaces where you
Can gather swiftly,
At ease with all
The subtle complexity.
May you be able to
listen
To your lover’s heartbeat
And think only of joy
You can awaken.
To your lover’s heartbeat
And think only of joy
You can awaken.
May you be able
To let yourself fall
Into the ocean rhythm,
Unfolding ever more.
To let yourself fall
Into the ocean rhythm,
Unfolding ever more.
Until you become
One crest of wave,
Rising into wild foam
One crest of wave,
Rising into wild foam
Whose beauty will
show
In the graceful sweep
Of its home-breaking.
In the graceful sweep
Of its home-breaking.
- John O'Donohue,
To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings
To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings
Thursday, September 6, 2018
Carlos Varela , Una Palabra
Una palabra no dice nada
Y al mismo tiempo lo esconde todo
Igual que el viento que esconde el agua
Como las flores que esconde el lodo
Una mirada no dice nada
Y al mismo tiempo lo dice todo
Como la lluvia sobre tu cara
O el viejo mapa de algún tesoro
Como la lluvia sobre tu cara
O el viejo mapa de algún tesoro
Una verdad no dice nada
Y al mismo tiempo lo esconde todo
Como una hoguera que no se apaga
Como una piedra que nace polvo
Si un día me faltas no seré nada
Y al mismo tiempo lo seré todo
Porque en tus ojos están mis alas
Y está la orilla donde me ahogo
Porque en tus ojos están mis alas
Y está la orilla donde me ahogo
communication, b.shaw
my experience does not only point to others: also to me.
and it is something to be very acutely aware of for everybody.
Wednesday, September 5, 2018
void...
there is something i’d like
to call creative dreaming.
it cannot deal with the invention
of void: there is no void
and there is no void.
the pause between sounds is filled
with silence, and the silence always has
a voice with its own colour. there is no void.
the concept of void is on one side an
intellectual game with helplessness
and on the other side nothing
but suffering a hole in the soul,
in a way an illness as well
as an insult to life:
but as it is absurd we must and can
learn to smile with compassionate
humour.
dream and walk on and be water.
to call creative dreaming.
it cannot deal with the invention
of void: there is no void
and there is no void.
the pause between sounds is filled
with silence, and the silence always has
a voice with its own colour. there is no void.
the concept of void is on one side an
intellectual game with helplessness
and on the other side nothing
but suffering a hole in the soul,
in a way an illness as well
as an insult to life:
but as it is absurd we must and can
learn to smile with compassionate
humour.
dream and walk on and be water.
Tuesday, September 4, 2018
Odyssey
'Soon dawn was born,
her fingers bright with roses',
The birds rose in flocks.
My heart stood still
to say: here is my blood,
there is no void from
where i flow, and here
i let my breath ease
into the the winds,
see, we are everywhere,
we are already home,
and we sing to the day
of our arrival , we are
all here now and forever,
the sky will take us, the sea,
the journey has found
and end and the end
is a beginning now.
the flowers inhale
the song of birds,
my father's ashes
dance in the waves,
and the light fills all,
a breeze of infinity.
her fingers bright with roses',
The birds rose in flocks.
My heart stood still
to say: here is my blood,
there is no void from
where i flow, and here
i let my breath ease
into the the winds,
see, we are everywhere,
we are already home,
and we sing to the day
of our arrival , we are
all here now and forever,
the sky will take us, the sea,
the journey has found
and end and the end
is a beginning now.
the flowers inhale
the song of birds,
my father's ashes
dance in the waves,
and the light fills all,
a breeze of infinity.
Monday, September 3, 2018
Sunday, September 2, 2018
Baden Powell , Poema on Guitar (1968) Full Album
heard this playing snookers as a student...a pub with good taste in music...
long ago
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