My soul is trapped
in your white sheets
We talk of time and things dear
your breast half-exposed untouched
but dreadfully near
The dawn beckons something new
taunting, teasing, tempting
me away from the comfort
of your white sheets
a thousand times I’ve
turned away from your familiar
touch grown cold
a strand of hair falls
across your tired face
I reach; you pull
we bend and twist
in your white sheets
Never coming closer
than the space between
the pillows
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1
Faith is an invisible force
which you cannot see or hear
or touch or taste or smell
Yet the essence of all we
believe cannot exist without faith
You have to have faith to believe
the sun will rise tomorrow and you
will be around to draw another breath
You have to have faith to believe
when you take a step you won’t
suddenly forget how to walk
You have to have faith to believe
your lover will keep their promise
of commitment and not stray
You have to have faith to believe
your money is safe in the bank
and the markets won’t crash
You have to have faith to believe
your friends won’t let you down
when you need them most
You have to have faith to believe
you can succeed once you begin
to walk your true path
You have to have faith to believe
you can put your life in another
person’s hands and come out alive
Faith is the basis of knowledge
Without faith there is no humanity
I’ve been awarded the schmooze award by the lovely shinade. She writes a very heartfelt and inspirational blog that touches the mind as well as the soul. Thanks Jackie!
This is a post from beagle’s blog: Out of touch with Iraq Reality
We just passed the 3,600 US military personel killed in Iraq mark. I can’t help but think of the children and other family members of those who have died in this war.
Today president Bush said this (quoted from the New York Times):
“I fully understand that when you watch the violence on TV every night, people are saying, ‘Is it worth it, can we accomplish an objective?’ Well, first I want to tell you, yes, we can accomplish this fight and win in Iraq. And secondly, I want to tell you, we must, for the sake of our children and grandchildren.�
For the sake of our children and grandchildren? Oh really? Right.
My response to his post was this:
One version of reality is this: the U.S. Strategic Petroleum Reserve currently holds about 570 million barrels of oil. Given that the U.S. imports about half of its oil, the Strategic Petroleum Reserve would run out in about 60 days if all our imports were suddenly cut off.
Iraq currently has 112 billion barrels of oil in it reserves – the world’s second largest proven reserve. Perhaps President Bush is thinking about more than the short-term. Imagine what would happen if our imports were cut-off? Can we afford to leave the nation exposed to that kind of risk?
War sucks! But as Clausewitz said, war is politcs by other means. We only have to read the history books to see that the reality of Iraq is not a new story. Nation-states act out of their own self-interest no matter how much they try to dress up the trimmings.
I’ve been a soldier and it’s bloody hard work and a deadly serious business. But we volunteered knowing the hazards of our chosen profession. General Macarthur once remarked that it is the soldiers who prays for peace the most for he is the one who must bare the burdens of war.
There are so many variables to consider. Choosing the right course of action is tough. What is the cost of peace? What is the cost of maintaining the way of life we take so much for granted?
Crude oil is used to produce fuel for cars, trucks, airplanes, boats and trains. It is also used for a wide variety of other products including asphalt for roads, lubricants for all kinds of machines, plastics for toys, bottles, food wrap and computers.
How many of us consider what it means to turn the key in our ignitions or hop on a bus or train to go to work or fly somewhere on holiday? We want access to these things, but do we know the true cost of having them? Would we be prepared to give these things up?
Perhaps we are just victims of our own cleverness. I don’t know. I also don’t know what the answer is.
peace,
clay
The wind whispers between
raindrops of yesterday’s past
the memory of her last kiss
fades to black
She can see her happiness
stagger out the front door
into the arms of another
perfumed night
Her broken dreams have
all gone to bed haunted by
ghosts of lines left unsaid
In the morning she can see
the sun hanging wearily on the
horizon, casting empty shadows
on the pillow by her head
She can feel the emptiness
swim around inside her as
she drags herself out of bed
In the mirror she catches
her reflection, smeared mascara
underneath her brown eyes
She can spend another day
holding hands with the past
pretending everything is ok
She can hear the wind between
the raindrops and she wonders
how long can it last?
holiday ending
eyes feels the blues coming on
return to normal
—
airport blues I have
tan bodies no bikinis
fading with the sand
cool blue liquid space
making bubbles like the fish
breathe underwater
—
three little sparrows
on my balcony stealing
bread to start the day
There’s something about scuba diving that is both relaxing and scary. I like the idea of floating in 3-dimensional space and breathing like a fish, but the thought of something bigger than me suddenly deciding I’m a part of its food chain, scares me.
Still the joy of diving outweighs the fear.
I met up with my dive guide, a lady who calls herself Cruz. She was taking me and another Spaniard, named Victor, out for a couple of shores dives from Puerto de Carmen.Â
As much as I love Spain, I haven’t picked up the lingo to any great fluency, so we all had to communicate with each other in broken English and Spanish. But that didn’t stop us from having great conversations.
Our first dive was to the Cathedral – a shore dive that’s accessed from playa de la barrilla.Â
Basically it’s a short surface swim out of the bay followed by a free descent down to 14 meters. From there we swam along the reef. The visibilty was kicking in around 10 meters. If I was a better underwater naturalist, I’d tell you about all the different fish I saw, but I’m not so I can only say I saw a lot of colorful fish (not very poetic I know).
We followed the reef to a drop off and then descended to 30 meters to the entrance of the Cathedral which is a large underwater lava cave. I find caving on dry land a supreme test of my fear factor. Going into one of these puppies underwater bolted my fear factor up twenty-fold.Â
It was like going into the belly of the whale.
A few meters into the cave, Victor gave the “I’m not going any further into this thing sign” and so we turned and left. Later Victor, pictionary style, told me he became very claustrophobic.
The belly of the whale was too forboding.
Our second dive was a leisurely underwater swim to a place called the Blue Hole, whiched turned out to be a 2-3 meter wide hole in the reef. Victor, who already made it clear he wasn’t much up for sliding into holes, elected to go over the top of the reef. Cruz and I went into the Hole and swam down to 25 meters and through the hole out the other side!
I enjoyed both dives and I left the ocean feeling calm, relaxed and joyful at being privy to another world.
—
Here are a few more holiday haiku’s:
spanish pub sitting
people milling through markets
sun setting cool breeze
—
lovely evening walk
people parading around
laughter fills the air
—
woman in red dress
red shoes to match red handbag
sweet perfume lingers
clay
lanzarote 2007
Greetings from Lanzarote. Day number three and I’ve been in serious chill mode and enjoying the time to relax and take in the sun. My impressions of Lanzarote so far are that the island is a nice place to escape to if you want some piece and quiet. The beaches and the resorts are not teeming with overzealous noisy holidaymakers, so it’s easy to relax.Â
If you’re looking for wild fun and exciting nightlife, Lanzarote is NOT the place to go. If you’re a wind surfer, you’ll love the place. There is a constant breeze ranging from slight in the morning and the evenings to heavy during midday.
I have some pictures which I’ll try to up load later since I only have 8 minutes left on my credit. But i’ll leave you with some holiday haiku’s:
can’t wait to escape
another thunder cloud near
it always rains here
—
motorway rest stop
bound for lanzarote to
catch a bit of sun
—
two hour delay
one too many bags onboard
higher math is tough
—
drinking dorada
breeze across balcony blows
nice way to relax
—
waves break across rocks
wind whispers in my ear the
sand tickles my feet
Nearly done packing for my trip to Lanzarote for a bit of chill time and diving. I thought about doing some hiking as well, but I don’t feel like lumbering around hiking gear and diving gear for such a short break. So diving it is!
I’m looking forward to escaping this god awful UK weather! It’s freaking July and we are still in jackets, jumpers, and long trousers!!
Anyway, the break will do me some good after an 8 week long contract.
Old man saddles
up to the bar
says I need a
liquid transfusion
of your best cold
stuff
It’s the image
of her eyes
filled up to despise
all the stupid
little things I’ve
done
I’m haunted by
the sounds of
her sobs in the
dark when she
thinks I’m still
asleep
I stare at the
ceiling and the
cracks in the wall
and I wonder how
we ever even
ended up like this
I can remember
a time when
your eyes shone
bright in the
sunlight on the
arms of the
Park St bridge
You whispered in
my ears, sweet
nothings and that
was fine, cause
i could smell your
perfume and feel
you chest against
mine and your
warm slender
fingers tied up
between strokes
of your hair
Now I sit in
this bar after
midnight choking
on the crusts
of your despair
sipping MGD and
getting high on
Saul Williams
And I long for
the time when
you’d be there
beside me feeding
me lines from
his book
I’m a low flying
crook who
swooped down on
your heart, carried
it to heights
then smashed it
on the rocks
below
And I watched
your broken dreams
crumple and get
mixed up in the
sand and washed
away in the sea
floating in the
night like a
piece of dead
wood drifting
to be washed
up on the banks
of Babylon
a city in strife
like your broken
heart mourning
lost in oblivion
Mthrfckrs better realize, now is the time to self-actualize. – Saul Williams, American Poet
Every now and then, I find myself slipping back into the abyss, that place where other people insist on defining me, telling me who I am and who I SHOULD be, according to the standards they mete. And then my old friends, doubt and confusion, take the opportunity to get back inside my head and start causing all sorts of craziness like two drunks at a wedding party. And then as usual, I reach a point where I say, enough is enough, get the fuck out!
I’m at that point today! Enough is enough, I say!
As Maslow said, “A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write, if he is to be at peace with himself. What a man can be, he must be. This is the need we may call self-actualization…it refers to man’s desire for fulfillment, namely the tendency for him to become actually in what he is potentially: to become everything that one is capable of becoming…”
peace, clay
When I need a goodnight’s sleep
I mix myself a cocktail
Of chemicals
There’s a couple of ways
To make the mix
Either solo or in pairs
But by far
The sweeter brew
Is that made by two
All you need is a little
Up and down motion
A pinch of friction
And a dash of emotion
Add some heat
A bit of sweat
And some commotion
And in a minute or two
You’ll get an explosion
The out fall of which
Is a sweet mix of:
Norepinephrine
Seretonin
Oxytocin
Vas opressin
Nitric oxide
And prolactin
Next to heaven divine
All of these chemicals combine
To produce a goodnight’s sleep
Warning: the effects have only
Been proven to work on men
Much to her chagrin
-c.lowe