Sunday, August 28, 2011
Viðrar Vel Til Loftárása
for i am convinced.
that there is nothing better than the words of a sigur ros song translated into english:::
I Slide Forward
Through My Head
I Think Half Way
Backwards
See Myself Sing
The Anthem We Wrote Together
We Had A Dream
We Had Everything
We Rode To The End Of The World
We Rode Searching
Climbed Skyscrapers
Which Later Exploded
The Peace Was Gone
Balance Leaks Out
I Fall Down
Slide Forward
Through My Head
I Always Return To The Same Place
Total Silence
No Answer
But The Best Thing God Has Created
Is A New Day
go.
from a letter written in April 2011:
"through Springs and Summers, Autumns and Winters we will walk. at times venturing on our own. but at all times- aware of the other promenading within an arms length. the parade of your beauty is one i want to watch from afar. yet at the same time one i want to cover my face and turn away from.
open your eyes. your world awaits.
i wish i could carry you always, but you must carry yourself."
"through Springs and Summers, Autumns and Winters we will walk. at times venturing on our own. but at all times- aware of the other promenading within an arms length. the parade of your beauty is one i want to watch from afar. yet at the same time one i want to cover my face and turn away from.
open your eyes. your world awaits.
i wish i could carry you always, but you must carry yourself."
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Hi.
i'll bring my words back soon, but for now, the heart & mind of Uncle Walt.
--- "ROOTS and leaves themselves alone are these, | |
Scents brought to men and women from the wild woods, and from the pond-side, | |
Breast-sorrel and pinks of love—fingers that wind around tighter than vines, | |
Gushes from the throats of birds, hid in the foliage of trees, as the sun is risen; | |
Breezes of land and love—breezes set from living shores out to you on the living sea—to you, O sailors! | 5 |
Frost-mellow’d berries, and Third-month twigs, offer’d fresh to young persons wandering out in the fields when the winter breaks up, | |
Love-buds, put before you and within you, whoever you are, | |
Buds to be unfolded on the old terms; | |
If you bring the warmth of the sun to them, they will open, and bring form, color, perfume, to you; | |
If you become the aliment and the wet, they will become flowers, fruits, tall blanches and trees."
-from Walt Whitman's 'Calamus Poems' --- love is alive. and i am living it. |
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