Monday, September 10, 2012

May You Be



May the wind be always at your back
And the sunshine warm upon your face
May the rains fall soft upon your field
Until the day we meet again

And the roof that hangs over your head
Find you shelter from the storm
Before the devil knows you're dead
May you be in heaven my friend

May good luck find you at your worst
And back luck lose you at your best
May your days be rich and full of wealth
And your nights be long when you need rest

And the roof that hangs over your head
Find you shelter from the storm
Before the devil knows you're dead
May you be in heaven my friend

And the road may it rise to meet your feet
And be downhill all the way to your door
May the grass below be green and the sky above be blue
May it be so forever more

And the roof that hangs over your head
Find you shelter from the storm
Before the devil knows you're dead
May you be in heaven my friend

... Devil Knows You're Dead, Delta Spirit

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Poetry Soothes And Emboldens The Soul



"A poem needs understanding through the senses. The point of diving in a lake is not immediately to swim to the shore but to be in the lake, to luxuriate in the sensation of water. You do not work the lake out, it is a experience beyond thought. Poetry soothes and emboldens the soul to accept the mystery"

... John Keats

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Home



Hold on to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

... Home, Phillip Phillips

Friday, August 10, 2012

Where I Come From



A window breaks down a long dark street
And a siren wails in the night.
But I'm alright 'cause I have you here with me
And I can almost see through the dark there is light.

If you knew how much this moment means to me
And how long I've waited for your touch.
If you knew how happy you are making me
I never thought that I'd love anyone so much.

... Feels Like Home, Edwina Hayes

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Brideshead Revisited


If you asked me now who I am, the only answer I could give with any certainty would be my name: Charles Ryder. For the rest: my loves, my hates, down even to my deepest desires, I can no longer say whether these emotions are my own, or stolen from those I once so desperately wished to be. On second thought, one emotion remains my own. Alone among the borrowed and the second-hand, as pure as that faith from which I am still in flight: Guilt.

Perhaps […] all our loves are merely hints and symbols; a hill of many invisible crests; doors that open as in a dream to reveal only a further stretch of carpet and another door; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness which sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in our search, each straining through and beyond the other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner always a pace or two ahead of us.

Just the place to bury a crock of gold. I should like to bury something precious, in every place I've been happy. And then when I was old, and ugly and miserable, I could come back, and dig it up, and remember.

He told me and, on the instant, it was as though someone had switched off the wireless, and a voice that had been bawling in my ears, incessantly, fatuously, for days beyond number, had been suddenly cut short; an immense silence followed, empty at first, but gradually, as my outraged sense regained authority, full of a multitude of sweet and natural and long-forgotten sounds – for he had spoken a name that was so familiar to me, a conjuror's name of such ancient power, that, at its mere sound, the phantoms of those haunted late years began to take flight.

I asked too much of you. I knew it all along, really. Only God can give you that sort of love.

I had not forgotten Sebastian. He was with me daily in Julia; or rather it was Julia I had known in him, in those distant, Arcadian days.

These memories, which are my life – for we possess nothing certainly except the past –, were always with me.

... Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh

Monday, August 6, 2012

Do I Wake Or Sleep?



Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music: -- Do I wake or sleep?

... Ode To A Nightingale, John Keats

I Almost Wish We Were Butterflies



“I almost wish we were butterflies and lived but three summer days;
Three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain”

... Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne, John Keats

He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven



Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

... He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven, WB Yeats
Read by Anthony Hopkins, 84 Charring Cross Road

What Might Have Been


"But that doesn't mean to say, of course, there aren't occasions now and then - extremely desolate occasions - when you think to yourself: 'What a terrible mistake I've made with my life.' And you get to thinking about a different life, a better life you might have had. For instance, I get to thinking about a life I may have had with you, Mr. Stevens. And I supposed that's when I get angry about some trivial little thing and leave. But each time I do, I realize before long - that my rightful place is with my husband. After all, there's no turning back the clock now. One can't be forever dwelling on what might have been"

... The Remains of the Day, Kazuo Ishiguro

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

The Heart of the Matter: Forgiveness


What are these voices
outside love's open door?
Make us throw off our contentment
and beg for something more.

I'm learning to live without you now
but I miss you sometimes.
The more I know,
the less I understand.
All the things I thought I knew,
I'm learning again.

I've been tryin' to get down
to the heart of the matter.
But my will gets weak
and my thoughts seem to scatter.
But I think it's about
forgiveness, forgiveness.
Even if, even if
you don't love me anymore...

... The Heart of the Matter, Don Henley

Monday, July 16, 2012

Dragons


Fairy tales are more than true;
not because they tell us that dragons exist,
but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.

... G. K. Chesterton

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

To Strive, To Seek, To Find, And Not To Yield


Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

... Ulysses, Alfred Tennyson, 1833

Monday, July 2, 2012

Sedetik Lebih


Setiap nafas yang dihembus
Setiap degupan jantung
Aku selalu memikirkanmu

Dalam sedar dibuai angan
Dalam tidur dan khayalan
Aku selalu memikirkanmu

Ternyata ku perlukan cinta dari dirimu sayang
Barulah terasa ku bernyawa

Kasihku ku amat mencintai kamu
Kerana kau beri erti hidup
Ku kan terus mencinta sedetik lebih selepas selamanya

... Sedetik Lebih, Anuar Zain

Ku harungi
Hari demi hari
Bersama wajah tak mungkin akan kembali
Tapi hati masih tak terima
Ditinggalkan sengsara

Keraguan ini bukanlah padamu
Perasaan hati masih rindu
Kekalutan ini hanyalah untukku
Tercari-cari bayangan mu
Tak sanggup aku kehilangan
Kehilanganmu...

... Perpisahan, Anuar Zain

Sunday, July 1, 2012

A Reminder Of The Important Things In Life


Be happy
Show up
Follow your heart
Find a new perspective
Have a sense of wonder
Find people you love
Set goals
Help others
Dance
Pamper yourself
Face your fears
Go to a museum
Exercise
Limit television
Get in touch with nature
Lighten up
Get a good night's sleep
Read books
Buy yourself flowers
Dont compare yourself with others
Don't beat yourself up
Be open to new ideas
Don't focus on negative thoughts
Focus on creating what you desire
Make time just to have fun
Keep the romance in your life
Make a gratitude list
Love your mother Earth
Want what you have
Be true to yourself

Friday, June 29, 2012

See You Somewhere...


When searching my inbox last night for an e-mail from Nora, to get the specifics of her phrasing, I came upon this sign-off to a short but sweet one thanking me for lunch: “see you somewhere… xox.” Somewhere, it turns out, is everywhere. I see Nora in the home I wouldn’t live in if not for her, the shot list I make in the van to set in the morning, and the jacket I slip into when the sun comes down (she always sent links along with tips). I see her when the craft services on set isn’t up to par, or in the process of getting to know a man who seems to understand. I see her in the worst hair moments and the best soup moments. I know I am only one of hundreds of women, people, who will miss Nora’s company, and millions who will miss her voice. The opportunity to be friends with Nora in the last year of her life informs the entirety of mine. I am so grateful.


Read more http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/culture/2012/06/lena-dunham-remembers-nora-ephron.html#ixzz1zDN8RbE1

And Miles To Go Before I Sleep


Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

... Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening, Robert Frost

A Guest House


This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

... Mevlana Jalalludin Rumi

Thursday, June 28, 2012

We Need Silence


“We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass - grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls.”

... Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta

Thursday, June 21, 2012

But You Do


In your life you meet people. 
Some you never think about again. 
Some, you wonder what happened to them. 
There are some that you wonder if they ever think about you. 
And then there are some that you wish you never have to think about again. 
But you do. 

... C.S. Lewis

We Need Humanity


We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery, we need humanity. More than cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost. 

... Charlie Chaplin

Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia

“A book has neither object nor subject; it is made of variously for matters, and very different dates and speeds. To attribute the book subject is to overlook this working of matters, and the exteriority of their relations. It is to fabricate a beneficent God to explain geological movements. In a book, as in all things, there are lines of articulation segmentarity, strata and territories; but also lines of flight, movement deterritorialization and destratification.”

"To a certain degree, the traditional logic of desire is all wrong from the very outset: from the very first step that the Platonic logic of desire forces us to take, making us choose between production and acquisition. From the moment that we place desire on the side of acquisition, we make desire an idealistic (dialectical, nihilistic) conception, which causes us to look upon it as primarily a lack: a lack of an object, a lack of the real object."

“Lack is created, planned, and organized in and through social production… It is never primary; production is never organized on the basis of a pre-existing need or lack. It is lack that infiltrates itself, creates empty spaces and propagates itself in accordance with the organization of an already existing organization of production.”

"The deliberate creation of lack as a function of market economy is the art of a dominant class. This involves deliberately organizing wants and needs (manque) amid an abundance of production; making all of desire teeter and fall victim to the great fear of not having one's needs satisfied; and making the object dependent upon a real production that is supposedly exterior to desire (the demands of rationality), while at the same time the production of desire is categorized as fantasy and nothing but fantasy."

... Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia, Gilles Deleuze and FĂ©lix Guattari

Regarding The Pain Of Others

"Being a spectator of calamities taking place in another country is a quintessential modern experience, the cumulative offering of more than a century and a half worth of those professional, specialized tourists known as journalists."

“So far as we feel sympathy, we feel we are not accomplices to what caused the suffering. Our sympathy proclaims our innocence as well as our impotence. To that extent, it can be (for all our good intentions) an impertinent - if not inappropriate - response. To set aside the sympathy we extend to others beset by war and murderous politics for a reflection on how our privileges are located on the same map as their suffering, and may - in ways we might prefer not to imagine - be linked to their suffering, as the wealth as some may imply the destitution of others, is a task for which the painful, stirring images supply only an initial spark.”

... Regarding The Pain Of Others, Susan Sontag

That's Just Fine With Me


There is nothing special about me
I am just a lil star
If it seems like I'm shining brightly
It's probably a reflection of something you already are
I forget about myself sometimes
When there's so many others around
When deep inside you feel the darkest
That is where I can always be found

There is nothing special about me
I am just a lil star
If you try to reach out and touch me
You'll see that I'm not really that far
I may not be the brightest nor am I the last one you'll see
But as long as you notice, that's just fine with me
Everything's just fine with me

There is nothing special about me
I am just a lil star
I've been running and jumping, but barely
Getting, getting over the bar
I plan on being much more than I am, but that's in due time
But until then I'm guilty, and being human is my crime
Being human, that is my crime

... Lil Star, Kelis featuring Cee-Lo

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

I Keep Them In A Jar


To ten million fireflies
I'm weird cause I hate goodbyes
I got misty eyes as they said farewell

But I'll know where several are
If my dreams get real bizarre
'Cause I saved a few and I keep them in a jar

... Fireflies, Owl City

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Your Living


Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by the attitude you bring to life;

not so much by what happens to you as by the way your mind looks at what happens.

... Kahlil Gibran

For Now


A few times in my life I have had moments of absolute clarity. When for a few brief seconds, the silence drowns out the noise and I can feel rather than think.. And things seem so sharp and the world seems so fresh, yet I can never make these moments last. I cling to them, but like everything else, they fade. I have lived for these moments. They pull me back to the present, and I realized that everything is exactly the way it was meant to be... for now.

A Moment Of Silence


If you allow yourself a moment of silence 
you'll be able to hear the sound of your soul, 
listen.. whats within you is all you need to know.