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"Welcome, O Life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race."
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In the green morning
Wed, November 22, 2006 - 2:22 AM
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I wanted to be a heart. A heart. And in the ripe evening I wanted to be a nightingale. A nightingale. (Soul, turn orange-colored. Soul, turn the color of love.) In the vivid morning I wanted to be myself. A heart. And at the evening's end I wanted to be my voice. A nightingale. Soul, turn orange-colored. Soul, turn the color of love. -Federico Garcia Lorca
"For the truly creative mind in any field is no more than this-a human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create- to create- to create- so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of beauty and meaning his very breath is cu...
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Sat, October 21, 2006 - 1:04 AM
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A BUFFOON'S ATTEMPT
Wed, August 16, 2006 - 7:26 PM
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The sky is a buffoon's attempt to conceal chance. All is barefooted, one girl ponders the woods. Which way shall she roam? Who knows, Chi sa? Anyway, my left hand catches moths. Circles. The blue words fell from the sky and nestled upon my breast. I told them stories until they slept peacefully. Meanwhile, the barren wilderness became a sieve, I fell out. The bottom went dry, crackling. A small stone, a smooth relic is now imbedded inside my mind. I walked the weeded p... read more
This is not a courtroom anymore.
Wed, July 19, 2006 - 9:47 PM
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The timed judging who's drunk or sober, who's right or wrong, who's closer to god or farther away, That's all over. This caravan is led instead by a great Delight, The simple joy that sits with us now That is the Grace. Hafiz! It may be That you have just poured a toast That will wash Love clean of all its pictures. ~ Hafiz
"behind the quest burns aspiration,
"There are times when this feeling of devotion and dependence lies dormant....Then all at once this feeling awakes and surges and roars, as if the container would nearly burst. There's no room for anything else. My Mother. Dawn is within me and I feel
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