[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Fleetwood Mac
—Gypsy
Gypsy - Fleetwood Mac
I just met this incredible human being…I don’t think anything will ever be the same.
Wisdom.
You cry for fairness, you fight against greed…but the greed you see is staring back at you in your own life. You need to live if you want to survive. You need to grow up if you want to thrive.
To My Fan
I received some fanmail recently that for some odd reason I cannot respond to. You know who you are, and you know I love you. On another note, your blog is incredibly insightful and I’m always delighted to read your finds. I hope you’re doing well, wherever you are now.
Japanese Maple
Never to the world I cried
and slain the first slave and died.
It was part of the motion
in vision, illusion, moderate disasters
striking one after another
Never to the world I cried
the way they stayed
he nursed them to the grave
and every one of their days was mine
the same.
Never to the world I cried
the words fell flat under the cello
and wandered open streets in Tokyo
to find,
empty world, empty hearts, empty souls
that should feel the push but felt only rain
and the salted drops that were lost in them
were the Never in the world I knew was not mine
The skies cleared
my open wounds drained the tears
I’ll carry them through the years
those were mine.
Never to the world I will cry.
The other day I hit this wall while I was walking around a rainy Portland park with my dog. It’s strange, I feel most alive when I’m climbing up the side of a mountain or even just a steep hill. There’s this meditation to the pulsation of the leg muscles expanding and contracting that sends a wave of joy through my whole person. Nature in itself is something that trips me out, often I feel myself as if in my ideal life off in the woods somewhere, living like one of the characters from a book I read once. The culture of the woods, the atmosphere, and the air at high altitudes strikes me blind of anything else that is afflicting me and I become consumed by the fire in the color and briskness in the air, the methodical pulsing air… and you have to stop. I wanted to be a ballerina, I wanted to dance on the mountain tops and strike my toes to the floor. I wanted to fly. The world’s problems would fade away and someday when all is vindicated, we all will smile. Passion is my obsession, I seek for it and find in other individuals that their passions for unsubstantial things are so disappointingly lacking in comparison. Is it so wrong to long helplessly for fictional fire? Is it so much to ask for a more Romantic era of super humans who feel and touch deeper, connect and reflect deeper, make love and promises that mean everything and hold them close? Is it so wrong to long for nature to be like a bud inside of you that bursts at the sight of fresh light every last time? Oftentimes I think that yes, perhaps that is too much to ask for. Each of us has his or her own agenda and we have no control over the wild card we get dealt. It is only in our minds we shall ever be set free.
To The Words Now Gone.
We’ve been weaving colors all day
and when the birds left the ground
there was nothing more for us to say.
There’s a face in the huddled crowd out there,
who draws in circles of soap on the pavement
and he smiles at the trees falling down on his head
and he smiles at the wind crushing his heart instead.
But there’s a trap,
at the end of every road
the traveler with his splintering stick will never know
it leads back to his soul
back to his darkened soul
that lit up
only around you
and the words we never knew.
And then, that soap swirling genius
glides his hands through the clouds
he’s dancing in the dripping rains of clarity
he’s shadowboxing the vigilance
he’s drowning in the patience
and he’s a sliver of the madness
only God’s could know….
And then we buried it in the ground
and those words we spoke,
they never came back around.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Gogol Bordello
—Through the Roof 'n' Underground
Through the Roof ‘n’ Underground—Gogol Bordello
(Source: redoleander, via siganmelostontos)
