Wednesday, 5 September 2012
Johnny Flynn - The Wrote And The Writ
They're taking pictures of the man from God
I hope his cassock's clean
The burden of being our holy fellas
Your halo'd better gleam, better gleam
What of all those wayward priests?
The ones who like to drink
Do you suppose they'd swap their blood for wine
Like you swapped yours for ink, for ink
You wrote me oh so many letters
And all of them seemed true
Promises look good on paper
Especially from you, from you
The weight of all those willing words
I carried all alone
You wouldn't put your pen to bed
When we hadn't found our own, our own
Your sentences rose high at night
And circled round my head
The circle's since been broken
Like the priest before me is breaking bread
I'm being asked to drink the blood of Christ
And soon I'll eat his flesh
I'm alone again before the altar
Shedding all my old regrets
The last of which I'll tell you now
As it flies down the sink
I never knew a part of you
You didn't set in ink, in ink
The letters that you left behind
No longer shall I read
Your blood's between the pages
And I can't stand to see you bleed
And I'll soon forget what was never there
Your words are ash and dust
All that's left is the song I've sung
The breath I've taken and the one I must
If you're born with a love for the wrote and the writ
People of letters your warning stands clear
Pay heed to your heart and not to your wit
Don't say in a letter what you can't in my ear.
Prime
"The day the child realizes that all adults are imperfect, he becomes an adolescent; the day he forgives them, he becomes an adult; the day he forgives himself, he becomes wise."
Alden Nowlan, poet, novelist, and playwright (1933-1983)
Tuesday, 4 September 2012
Still true two hundred years later
"The least pain in our little finger gives us more concern and uneasiness than the destruction of millions of our fellow-beings."
William Hazlitt, essayist (1778-1830)
Monday, 3 September 2012
Taste of the art
"Ah, good taste, what a dreadful thing! Taste is the enemy of creativeness."
Pablo Picasso, painter and sculptor (1881-1973)
Sunday, 2 September 2012
Logos Almighty
"No man has a prosperity so high or firm, but that two or three words can dishearten it; and there is no calamity which right words will not begin to redress."
Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer and philosopher (1803-1882)
Friday, 31 August 2012
While I was there
While I was there
I had no care
No care in the world
But to remain there
Silent, uncoloured
Warm and content
With no other intent
But to remain there
While I was there
Nothing mattered
Nothing could err
I was centred
Poised, sphered
While dawn appeared
I felt rare
While I was there
While I was there
A minute was a year
There I measured time
In breaths and heartbeats
For even nighttime
Had vanished.
I thought that there I could remain
The hourglass set dormant and low
But well I knew that it was vain
As the hourglass has to flow
Though no other place
In my daily race
Could be as warm
As there, in her arms.
to F.
Indirect teaching
"I have learnt silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers."
Kahlil Gibran, mystic, poet, and artist (1883-1931)
Thursday, 30 August 2012
Sense of the meaning
"You may say that people look for meaning in everything, but they don't. They've got life going on around them, but they don't look for meaning there. They look for meaning when they go to a movie. I don't know why people expect art to make sense when they accept the fact that life doesn't make sense."
David Lynch, filmmaker, tv director, musician.
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