Thursday, January 30, 2014

Horses of Dreams

Love quote by William Arthur Ward

Richard Johnson Art

Flatter me, and I may not believe you.
Criticize me, and I may not like you.
Ignore me, and I may not forgive you.
Encourage me, and I will not forget you.
Love me and I may be forced to love you.
William Arthur Ward

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Mystic's Dream Lyrics by loreena mckennitt

The Mystic's Dream
loreena Mckennitt

A clouded dream on an earthly night
Hangs upon the crescent moon
A voiceless song in an ageless light
Sings at the coming dawn
Birds in flight are calling there
Where the heart moves the stones
It's there that my heart is calling
All for the love of you

A painting hangs on an ivy wall
Nestled in the emerald moss
The eyes declare a truce of trust
And then it draws me far away
Where deep in the desert twilight
Sand melts in pools of the sky
When darkness lays her crimson cloak
Your lamps will call me home

And so it's there my homage's due
Clutched by the still of the night
And now I feel you move
Every breath is full
So it's there my homage's due
Clutched by the still of the night
Even the distance feels so near
All for the love of you.

Color Of Life by C. JoyBell C.

When I was a little girl,everything in the world fell into either of these two categories: wrong or right.Black or white. Now that I am an adult, I have put childish things aside and now I know that some things fall into wrong and some things fall into right. Some things are categorized as black and some things are categorized as white.

But most things in the world aren't either!Most things in the world aren't black,aren't white,aren't wrong,aren't right, but most of everything is just different.And now I know that there's nothing wrong with different, and that we can let things be different, we don't have to try and make them black or white, we can just let them be grey.

And when I was a child, I thought that God was the God who only saw black and white. Now that I am no longer a child, I can see, that God is the God who can see the black and the white and the grey, too, and He dances on the grey! Grey is okay.
C. JoyBell C.

On Silence by Ralph Waldo Emerson

What a strange power there is in silence!
How many resolutions are formed, how many sublime conquests effected, during that pause when the lips are closed, and the soul secretly feels the eye
of her Maker upon her!
They are the strong ones who know how to keep silence when it is a pain and a grief unto them, and who give time to their own souls to wax strong against temptation.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

What is left to the young? by Mario Benedetti

What is left to the young?
Mario Benedetti

The original poem in Spanish
¿Qué les queda a los jóvenes?

What is left to prove to young
in this world of patience and disgust?
Just grafitti? Rock?? Skepticism??
also is not to say amen
do not let them kill the love
restore speech and utopia
be young without haste and with memory
placed in a story that is yours
not become prematurely old

What is left to prove to young
routine in this world and ruin?
Cocaine? Beer? Hooligans??
are left breathing / open your eyes
discover the roots of horror
So be at peace invent hard way
terms with the nature
and with the rain and lightning
and with feeling and with death
that crazy of binding and loosing

What is left to prove to young
in this world of consumption and smoke?
Vertigo?? Assaults?? Nightclubs??
also is arguing with God
whether or not there exists
hands that help build / open doors
between own and alien heart /
above all they have left to do future
despite the ruines of past
sages and scoundrels of this.

Monday, January 27, 2014

Reflections & Poems On Happiness:On Joy and Sorrow by Khalil Gibran*Happiness by Jane kenyon*Happiness by Jack Hirschman

Tears of Dew-Huseyn Abdullayev

Wilhelm August Lebrecht Amberg Art

On Joy and Sorrow
Kahlil Gibran

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises
was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being,
the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup
that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit,
the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous,look deep into your heart and
you shall find it is only that which has given you
sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart,
and you shall see that in truth you are weeping
for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say,"Joy is greater than sorrow,"
and others say,"Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you,they are inseparable.
Together they come,and when one sits,alone with
you at your board,remember that the other is
asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your
sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and
his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.


There’s just no accounting for happiness,
or the way it turns up like a prodigal
who comes back to the dust at your feet
having squandered a fortune far away.

You make a feast in honor of what
was lost,and take from its place the finest
garment,which you saved for an occasion
you could not imagine,and you weep night and day
to know that you were not abandoned,
that happiness saved its most extreme form
for you alone.

No, happiness is the uncle you never
knew about,who flies a single-engine plane
onto the grassy landing strip, hitchhikes
into town, and inquires at every door
until he finds you asleep midafternoon
as you so often are during the unmerciful
hours of your despair.

It comes to the monk in his cell.
It comes to the woman sweeping the street
with a birch broom,to the child
whose mother has passed out from drink.
It comes to the lover, to the dog chewing
a sock, to the pusher, to the basketmaker,
and to the clerk stacking cans of carrots
in the night.

It even comes to the boulder
in the perpetual shade of pine barrens,
to rain falling on the open sea,
to the wineglass, weary of holding wine.

Mecuro B Cotto Photography

The Happiness
Jack Hirschman

There's a happiness,a joy
in one soul,that's been
buried alive in everyone
and forgotten.

It isn't your barroom joke
or tender,intimate humor
or affections of friendliness
or big, bright pun.

They're the surviving survivors
of what happened when happiness
was buried alive,when
it no longer looked out

of today's eyes,and doesn't
even manifest when one
of us dies,we just walk away
from everything,alone

with what's left of us,
going on being human beings
without being human,
without that happiness.

Friday, January 24, 2014

Winter Quotes & pictures

I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.
Lewis Carroll

Brew me a cup for a winter's night.
For the wind howls loud and the furies fight;
Spice it with love and stir it with care,
And I'll toast our bright eyes,
my sweetest fair.
Minna Thomas Antrim

Nothing is as tedious as the limping days,
When snowdrifts yearly cover all the ways,
And ennui, sour fruit of incurious gloom,
Assumes control of fate’s immortal loom
Charles Baudelaire,Paris Spleen

Thursday, January 23, 2014

I'm Counting On You Lyrics /Chris De Burgh & Celtic Woman

I'm Counting On You Lyrics
Chris De Burgh

The night is so wild
Downstairs the child is sleeping,her spirit is free
For more than an hour I have walked in the rain
I've been wondering what she will be

But where are the heroes,where are the dreams
that I had when I was young?
Am I hoping in vain,just to think she could change anything?
Well I'm counting on you

I'm counting on you
To bring that sweet gentleness to your world
and all that you do
My generation is losing its way,we don't know
what we're leaving for you
So may there be millions who feel like you do,oh my love

There is so much to know
There is so far to go
But you are not alone
When this is your world and I'm counting on you

Come to me,turn to me
Give me your eyes when you see
The mysteries of time
Here there are those who just live in the past,
they will never let history lie

And this sad little island is breaking my heart
with its dark shades of green
And as hard as I try I just cannot see why this should be
Ohh,I'm counting on you

There is so much to know
There is so far to go
But you are not alone

When this is your world and I'm counting on you
I'm counting on you
I'm counting on you

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Our Inner Child by Lynn Hasselberger

Our inner child is still in there somewhere,aching to be let loose from all the layers we’ve piled on over the years.Why not break him/her out for the day or even a moment?Be playful.Blow some bubbles.Skip around the block.Feel the freedom.Take fearlessness out for a test run.Let yourself have some fun.
Lynn Hasselberger

Monday, January 20, 2014

I'm unable to feel by Fernando Pessoa

I'm unable to feel
Fernando Pessoa

I'm unable to feel, to be human, to reach out
From inside my sad soul to my fellow earthly brothers.
And even were I to feel, I'm unable to be
useful, practical, quotidian, definite,
To have a place in life, a destiny among men,
To have a vocation, a force, a will, a garden,
A reason for resting, a need for recreation,
Something that comes to me directly from nature.

So be motherly to me, O tranquil night...
You who remove the world from the world,
you who are peace,
You who don't exist,who are only the absence of light,
You who aren't a thing,a place, an essence or a life, Penelope who weaves darkness that tomorrow will be unravelled,
Come to me,O night,reach out your hands,
And be coolness and relief,O night,on my forehead...

On amusement & Humor

A merry heart doeth good like a medicine.
Proverbs 17:22

If those who are the enemies of innocent amusements had the direction of the world, they would take away the Spring, and Youth.
Honore de Balzac

Let us read and let us dance– two amusements that will never do any harm to the world.

Like a welcome summer rain, humor may suddenly cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you.
Langston Hughes

Humility by Rudolf Arnheim

Nothing is more humbling than to look with a strong magnifying glass at an insect so tiny that the naked eye sees only the barest speck and to discover that nevertheless it is sculpted and articulated and striped with the same care and imagination.
Rudolf Arnheim

Friday, January 17, 2014

Insights On life,Moral,Goodness & Love By George Eliot


Wit and Reflection from the Writings
of the novelist Mary Ann Evans
better known by her pen-name George Eliot

Diane Leonard Art

What do we live for,if it is not to make life
less difficult for each other?

It will never rain roses:
when we want to have more roses,
we must plant more roses.

It seems to me we can never give up longing
and wishing while we are still alive.
There are certain things we feel to be beautiful
and good,and we must hunger for them.
How can we ever be satisfied without them until our feelings are deadened?
George Eliot,The Mill on the Floss

The golden moments in the stream of life rush
past us and we see nothing but sand;
the angels come to visit us,and we only know
them when they are gone.
George Eliot,Janet's Repentance

There is much pain that is quite noiseless;and vibrations that make human agonies are often a mere whisper in the roar of hurrying existence.

There are glances of hatred that stab and raise no cry of murder;robberies that leave man or woman for ever beggared of peace and joy,yet kept secret by the sufferer-committed to no sound except that of low moans in the night,seen in no writing except that made on the face by the slow months of suppressed anguish and early morning tears.

Many an inherited sorrow that has marred a life has been breathed into no human ear.
George Eliot,(Felix holt,the radical)

Svetlana Belyaeva Photography

The most solid comfort one can fall back upon is the thought
that the business of one's life is to help in some small way to
reduce the sum of ignorance,degradation and misery
on the face of this beautiful earth.
George Eliot,from George Eliot's Letters

That by desiring what is perfectly good, even when we don't
quite know what it is and cannot do what we would, we are
part of the divine power against evil -- widening the skirts
of light and making the struggle with darkness narrower.
George Eliot,middlemarch

There is no general doctrine which is not capable of eating
out our morality if unchecked by the deep-seated habit of
direct fellow-feeling with individual fellow-men.
George Eliot, Middlemarch

The presence of a noble nature,generous in its wishes, ardent in its charity,changes the lights for us: we begin to see things again in their larger,quieter masses,and to believe that we too can be seen and judged in the wholeness of our character.
George Eliot,Middlemarch

Richard Johnson Art

Some discouragement,some faintness of heart at the new real future which replaces the imaginary, is not unusual,and we do not expect people to be deeply moved
by what is not unusual.

That element of tragedy which lies in the very fact of frequency has not yet wrought itself into the coarse emotion of mankind, and perhaps our frames could hardly bear
much of it.

If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life,it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat,and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence.
George Eliot,middlemarch

What greater thing is there for two human souls,than to feel that they are joined for life--to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting?
George Eliot, Adam Bede

I like not only to be loved,but also to be told that I am loved.
I am not sure that you are of the same mind.But the realm of
silence is large enough beyond the grave.
This is the world of light and speech,and I shall take leave to tell you that you are very dear.
George Eliot

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Emotions by Mitch Albom

If you hold back on the emotions--if you don't allow yourself to go all the way through them--you can never get to being detached, you're too busy being afraid. You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the grief.You're afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails. But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your heard even, you experience them fully and completely.
Mitch Albom,Tuesdays With Morrie

Two Wolves- A Native American Cherokee Story

Maija Painting

Two Wolves
A Native American Cherokee Story

One evening an old Cherokee Indian told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, ‘My son, the battle is between two ‘wolves’ inside us all.One is Evil. It is anger,envy,jealousy,sorrow,regret,greed,arrogance, self-pity,guilt,resentment,inferiority,lies,false pride, superiority,and ego.

The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility,kindness,benevolence,empathy,generosity,truth, compassion and faith.’

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: ‘Which wolf wins?’

The old Cherokee simply replied, ‘The one you feed.’

Monday, January 13, 2014

To be better by Ken Venturi

I don't believe you have to be better than everybody else. I believe you have to be better than you ever thought you could be.
Ken Venturi

Reflections On Happiness

Plenty of people miss their share of happiness, not because they never found it, but because they didn't stop to enjoy it.
William Feather

The happiness of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts: therefore, guard accordingly, and take care that you entertain no notions unsuitable to virtue and reasonable nature.
Marcus Aurelius

Just do what must be done. This may not be happiness, but it is greatness.
George Bernard Shaw

There is only one happiness in this life,
to love and be loved.
George Sand

You must try to generate happiness within yourself.
If you aren't happy in one place, chances are you won't be happy anyplace.
Ernie Banks

Lorsque On est caressé avec de l'âme .Extrait de Les misérables de Victor Hugo.


Metin Demiralay Photography

Extrait de Les misérables de Victor Hugo.

Disons-le en passant,être aveugle et être aimé,c'est en effet, sur cette terre où rien n'est complet,une des formes les plus étrangement exquises du bonheur.

Avoir continuellement à ses côtés une femme,une fille,
une soeur,un être charmant,qui est là parce que vous
avez besoin d'elle et parce qu'elle ne peut se passer
de vous,se savoir indispensable à qui nous est nécessaire,
pouvoir incessamment mesurer son affection à la quantité
de présence qu'elle nous donne,et se dire:
puisqu'elle me consacre tout son temps,c'est que j'ai tout
son coeur;voir la pensée à défaut de la figure,

constater la fidélité d'un être dans l'éclipse du monde,
percevoir le frôlement d'une robe comme un bruit d'ailes,
l'entendre aller et venir,sortir, rentrer,parler, chanter,
et songer qu'on est le centre de ces pas,de cette parole,
de ce chant,manifester à chaque minute sa propre attraction,
se sentir d'autant plus puissant qu'on est plus infirme,
devenir dans l'obscurité,et par l'obscurité,l'astre autour
duquel gravite cet ange,peu de félicités égalent celle-là.

Le suprême bonheur de la vie,c'est la conviction qu'on
est aimé;aimé pour soi-même,disons mieux,aimé malgré
soi-même;cette conviction,l'aveugle l'a.Dans cette
détresse,être servi,c'est être caressé.Lui manque-t-il
quelque chose?Non.Ce n'est point perdre la lumière
qu'avoir l'amour.Et quel amour! un amour entièrement fait
de vertu.Il n'y a point de cécité où il y a certitude.

L'âme à tâtons cherche l'âme,et la trouve.Et cette âme
trouvée et prouvée est une femme.Une main vous soutient,
c'est la sienne;une bouche effleure votre front,c'est
sa bouche;vous entendez une respiration tout près de vous,
c'est elle.Tout avoir d'elle,depuis son culte jusqu'à
sa pitié,n'être jamais quitté,avoir cette douce faiblesse
qui vous secourt,s'appuyer sur ce roseau inébranlable,
toucher de ses mains la providence et pouvoir la prendre
dans ses bras,Dieu palpable,quel ravissement!

Le coeur,cette céleste fleur obscure,entre dans un épanouissement
mystérieux.On ne donnerait pas cette ombre pour toute la clarté.L'âme ange est là,sans cesse là;si elle s'éloigne,c'est pour revenir; elle s'efface comme le rêve et reparaît comme la réalité.On sent de la chaleur qui approche,la voilà.On déborde de sérénité, de gaîté et d'extase; on est un rayonnement dans la nuit.

Et mille petits soins. Des riens qui sont énormes dans
ce vide. Les plus ineffables accents de la voix féminine
employés à vous bercer,et suppléant pour vous à l'univers
évanoui. On est caressé avec de l'âme.On ne voit rien,
mais on se sent adoré.C'est un paradis de ténèbres.

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