Tuesday, July 10, 2012

The Sunken Garden
Speak not, whisper not;
Here bloweth thyme and bergamot;
Softly on the evening hour,
Secret herbs their spices shower,
Dark-spiked rosemary and myrrh,
Lean-stalked, purple lavender;
Hides within her bosom, too,
All her sorrows, bitter rue.

Breathe not — trespass not;
Of this green and darkling spot,
Latticed from the moon's beams,
Perchance a distant dreamer dreams;
Perchance upon its darkening air,
The unseen ghosts of children fare,
Faintly swinging, sway and sweep,
Like lovely sea-flowers in its deep;
While, unmoved, to watch and ward,
'Mid its gloomed and daisied sward,
Stands with bowed and dewy head
That one little leaden Lad.

Walter de la Mare

Sunday, January 22, 2012

To Have Without Holding

by Marge Piercy

Learning to love differently is hard,
love with the hands wide open, love
with the doors banging on their hinges,
the cupboard unlocked, the wind
roaring and whimpering in the rooms
rustling the sheets and snapping the blinds
that thwack like rubber bands
in an open palm.

It hurts to love wide open
stretching the muscles that feel
as if they are made of wet plaster,
then of blunt knives, then
of sharp knives.

It hurts to thwart the reflexes
of grab, of clutch; to love and let
go again and again. It pesters to remember
the lover who is not in the bed,
to hold back what is owed to the work
that gutters like a candle in a cave
without air, to love consciously,
conscientiously, concretely, constructively.

I can't do it, you say it's killing
me, but you thrive, you glow
on the street like a neon raspberry,
you float and sail, a helium balloon
bright bachelor's button blue and bobbing
on the cold and hot winds of our breath,
as we make and unmake in passionate
diastole and systole the rhythm
of our unbound bonding, to have
and not to hold, to love
with minimized malice, hunger
and anger moment by moment balanced.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Thursday, November 17, 2011



Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.

Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine;
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now, will not build one anymore.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander on the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.

-- Rainer Maria Rilke

Friday, October 21, 2011

José González - Killing For Love (Beatfanatic Remix)

"What's the point

if you hate, die and kill for love.

What's the point with a love that

makes you hate and kill for."


And that's all and everything he says.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Look at Us

Look at Us
by John Trudell

At times they were kind, they were polite in their sophistication, smiling but never too loudly acting in a civilized manner an illusion of gentleness always fighting to get their way. while the people see, the people know, the people wait, the people say the closing of your doors will never shut use out, the closing of your doors can only shut you in.

We know the predator, we see them feed on us, we are aware to starve the beast is our destiny. At times they were kind, they were polite, but never honest.

We see your tech no logical society devour you before your very eyes we hear your anguished cries exalting greed through progress while you seek material advances the sound of flowers dying carry messages through the wind trying to tell you about balance and your safety

But your minds are chained to your machines and the strings dangling from your puppeteers hands turning you, twisting you into forms and confusions beyond your control

Your mind for a job your mind for a t.v. your mind for a hair dryer your mind for consumption.

With your atom bombs your material bombs your drug bombs your racial bombs your class bombs your sexist bombs your ageist bombs

Devastating your natural shelters making you homeless on earth chasing you into illusions fooling you, making you pretend you can run away from the ravishing of your spirit

While the sound of flowers dying carry messages through the wind trying to tell you about balance and your safety.

Trying to isolate us in a dimension called loneliness leading us into the trap believe in their power but not in ourselves piling us with guilt always taking the blame greed chasing out the balance trying to isolate us in a dimension called loneliness

economic deities seizing power through illusions created armies are justified class systems are democracy god listens to warmongers prayers tyranny is here, divide and conquer trying to isolate us in a dimension called loneliness

greed a parent insecurity the happiness companion genocide conceived in sophistication tech no logic material civilization a rationalization replacing a way to live trying to isolate us in a dimension called loneliness

To god we hope you don’t mind but we would like to talk to you; there are some things we need to straighten out, it’s about these christians they claim to be from your nation but man you should see the things they do all the time blaming it on you: manifest destiny, genocide, maximized profit, sterilization, raping the earth, lying taking more than they need in all the forms of the greed. we ask them why, they say it’s god’s will.

Damn god they make it so hard. Remember jesus? Would you send him back to them, tell them how to kill him, rather they should listen stop abusing his name and yours.

We do not mean to be disrespectful but you know how it is, our people have their own ways we never even heard of you until not long ago, your representatives spoke magnificent things of you which we were willing to believe, but from the way they acted we know we and you were being deceived.

We do not mean you and your christian children any bad, but you all came to take all we had we have not seen you but we have heard so much it is time for you to decide what life is worth we already remember but maybe you forgot.

Look at us, look at us, we are of Earth and Water
Look at them, it is the same
Look at us, we are suffering all these years
Look at them, they are connected.
Look at us, we are in pain
Look at them, surprised at our anger
Look at us, we are struggling to survive
Look at them, expecting sorrow be benign
Look at us, we were the ones called pagan
Look at them, on their arrival
Look at us, we are called subversive
Look at them, descending from name callers
Look at us, we wept sadly in the long dark
Look at them, hiding in tech no logic light
Look at us, we buried the generations
Look at them, inventing the body count
Look at us, we are older than America
Look at them, chasing a fountain of youth
Look at us, we are embracing Earth
Look at them, clutching today
Look at us, we are living in the generations
Look at them, existing in jobs and debts
Look at us, we have escaped many times
Look at them, they cannot remember
Look at us, we are healing
Look at them, their medicine is patented
Look at us, we are trying
Look at them, what are they doing
Look at us, we are children of Earth
Look at them, who are they?

Thursday, September 22, 2011


“No matter how hard the past, you can always begin again.” -Buddha

One of the greatest misconceptions in life is that we are somehow powerless to let go of what’s behind us. That we have to carry regret, shame, or disappointment, and that is has to dictate how today will unfold, at least on some level.

It doesn’t. At any moment, you can let go of who you’ve been and decide to be someone new–to do something differently. It won’t always be easy, but it is always a choice you can make.

You can either dwell and stay stuck, or let go and feel free. Give yourself space to fill with good feelings about the beautiful day in front of you–and the beautiful tomorrow you’re now creating.