I love you

It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us grandmother and granddaughter. 

Plant your roots.

Bluebird, flying high
Tell me what you sing
If you could talk to me
What news would you bring
Of voices in the sky

- Justin Hayward

For that special someone

Gift ideas 101: http://www.pajamacity.com/?gclid=CICaq-iNxKUCFUS8KgoddS0sZQ

Who wouldn't want that?!

In the lane, snow is glistening

Gone away is the bluebird,
Here to stay is a new bird
He sings a love song,
As we go along,
Walking in a winter wonderland.

b.e.a.u.t.y.

“Apparently the exterior; the true extension of any landscape traverses both the exterior and interior of an individual. In short, landscape is the link between our outer and inner selves. Its substance is as much a part of mind as it is of body and we cannot be considered distinct and apart from it any more than a living cell can be autonomous within the body of it´s host. The natural landscape is the raw material of the human psyche.¨ Bill Viola

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.


So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.


Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.


Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion - put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?


Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection


- By Wendell Berry and inspired by someone special

A cage has a key, somewhere.

If I could write you a poem to stitch you back together,

I would give up,

My heart. My mind. My soul.

m.e.

To mend you,

Anything.

Just ask, please.

My little heart aches.

For you.

This is my gift,

My sha – tt – er - ed words.

Be,

Present.

Be,

You

Be

Beautiful

Because

You

Are

Believe.

From the tip of your toes to the crown of your head,

You are my queen.

And you rule my world,

So be kind,

My fields need to be nurtured, because they are not fertile,

For, they are yours and so,

I shall grow for you.

Toothpick skyline,

You are my byline.

.be. re-written,

As I am empty,

So, I can b.e. filled,

Just not yet.

Shattered, shards, stick.

Stuck in hate,

Don’t hate any longer

For I hate him enough for you.

Be grace.

Because the broken are born into brokenness,

And he was born too.

Selfless selfishness,

seeks to save.

So swim, soar, swallow,

The truth.

You. Are. Loved.

So be free. 

When I am in pieces, you bring me peace.

Photo credit: Naomi Large

<3 you NMB

Sometimes I hear a whistle blow. It rings hollow.

I am sure.
Though I have not seen,
I see.

Little pinpricks of truth,
cascade,
up into a lights abyss.
Of nothingness,
Of all.

The dichotomy of _________ and __________
Does not touch upon
the heart of human nature.

I am not what I see,
I am me,
I can now see.

Sifted through the mind
of a wanderer,
a hue
myn.

We are all born here,
in confusion,
in brokenness.

Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.

unkown

Dance. Stars. Bears. Kettle.

Human speech is like a crackled kettle which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.  Gustave Flaubert

Paint a Picture, of you.

"Everybody has a secret world inside of them. All of the people of the world, I mean everybody. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside them they’ve all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands maybe." Neil Gaiman (via quote book) 

Blue Footed Booby

yes ladies and gentleman,

this is a bird

a real bird

the name booby

comes from the Spanish term bobo

which means

clumsy or clown

booby = tame

survival of the fittest

=

captured, killed or eaten

by humans

that sucks

what doesn't suck is how male boobys' court female booby's

learn

male flaunts those sexy blue feet

dancing

to impress

spreading his wings he stamps

the ground

the females

decide

“Life will knock you down more times than you can possibly imagine. Don’t knock yourself down.” - Adam Braverman

A Rap

I drink lots of tea, I munch on a pear
i sleep in the nude, don't need no underwear
I like it organic, my last name means big
I'm a part time hippie and a full time twig

My name is Marijke, Marijke Large
I bring the funk, free of charge
I love the earth, so turn off your lamp
I go to the club and fist pump like a champ


By Lauren Coulter and Marijke Large (to be continued) 

Rolling in the Deep

""We could have had it all...You had my heart and soul in your hands."

At long last Adele has released a new single, "Rolling in the Deep." Stay tuned, as Adele plans to release her new album, 21, on February 22nd in Canada and the U.S. SO excited.

Check out this beautiful, gospel tune: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lazyDlfaptM

Ma musique du moment

1. Damien Rice - Volcano
2. Cat Power (Velvet Underground) - I Found a Reason
3. The XX - Shelter
4. Bo Large - Let's Love Together
5. Dan Mangan - Basket
6. Great Lake Swimmers - Your Rocky Spine
7. Adele - Make you Feel My Love
8. Dario Marinanelli - Dawn
9. Sufjan Stevens - Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing
11. Regina Spektor - Human of the Year
12. Current Swell - Stomach

America - Ginsberg

America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.
America two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956.
I can't stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb
I don't feel good don't bother me.
I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I'm sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don't think he'll come back it's sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I'm trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I'm doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven't read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for
murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid and I'm not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there's going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I'm perfectly right.
I won't say the Lord's Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven't told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over
from Russia.
I'm addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I'm obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It's always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie
producers are serious. Everybody's serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.
Asia is rising against me.
I haven't got a chinaman's chance.
I'd better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals
an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles and hour and
twentyfivethousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underpriviliged who live in
my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I'm a Catholic.
America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his
automobiles more so they're all different sexes
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco and Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they
sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the
workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party
was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother
Bloor made me cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have
been a spy.
America you don're really want to go to war.
America it's them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia's power mad. She wants to take
our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader's Digest. her wants our
auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him makes Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers.
Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I'd better get right down to the job.
It's true I don't want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts
factories, I'm nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I'm putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.

beauty.

The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These people have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.


Elizabeth Kubler Ross