Small People
Inside of you is a generous soul
But on the outside the people become small
For little people can no longer hurt you
Yet you have built a lonely tower,
That only a super human can reach
You are searching for a god
RexRed
May 26/08
I really wanna babble. I got so much "stuff" going through my head and I wish I could stop thinking... however, I don't know what I want to babble about - I just think babbling would be good right now.
Some thought (yes, even my own) defies all description and logic.
Lzzie your input here is welcome.
If I could even figure out an nth of what was going on my head that would be something. It amazes me that in a a few seconds -SO much can just flicker around up there - with no reason or logic. How does that happen. Remembering the past, in the present and the whole future - in a few seconds - conversations you've had, conversations you know you are going to have and the conversation you're having with yourself at the time you're thinking of the umpteen other things that are floating around - and most them pretty useless thoughts that wont come to fruition - they just bounce around of all the other stuff going on.
Oh - see what I mean - not got a darn clue of what's going on. Can't believe I'm even saying this out loud
What happened to today? Why did it go so fast? Was I having fun or is time slipping by without notice?
Life is comprised of circles which intersect at the crossing of consciousness.
RR
Life is a circle...
it goes round and round and round and round... you keep passing all the unresolveds, the happy, the sad, the good, the bad, the ugly, the never to be fixed, the "what am I doing bit - that's the worn thin part of the circle - to me it's a ring and has worn bit - the here, the now, the future.... then you find it spinning - bit like a gyroscope on a very thin wire - now that's a fascinating thing - seeing the look on my kids face when they first watched that.... spinning circles...
does this consitute babbling.... or nonsense? Maybe I should go to sleep and let it spin on in my confusing dreams.
What a load of tosh a? Or is this thread just a little above my babbling.
You are nailing this tread head on Lzzie. Thanks for your input!
All spin needs inertia and energy... Some, look through the hypnotic turns of thought to the seat of power and defeat negative energy at it's source.
The source of "the will".
Commitments, believing and action are all mental abilities.
The world will not obey without these three abilities all renewed in the inner person.
Oh - well inertia and energy - certainly thats apparent in Izzie world - all the positive energy - sometimes a very forced /active positivity - but it works to then get a balance, perspective and therefore a result - and inertia when I make changes in the momentum - sometimes uncontrollably
I think you may be talking more technical than me - - you words are sound - mine are "immature" and I am very complicated - my mental ability to turn around what happens within and around as it's spinning can be top notch, I can do that - I can turn the most ridiculous into a positive- giving committment, resources to others as well as helping me discover why it has to be done... coz that's where the future is... that day, the next being the future. Then 10 minutes later - or the next day - it all has to start again. Heck, it can in 5 minutes. So much positivity - little negativity - just spinning goes in the same direction... it just needs to let off for a while - you know, slow down - like - can we get of the roundabout for a little while - sit down and NOT THINK about anything - stop thinking - shut down. I know people who do that, shutdown - they find it helps them - but sure as heck it hurts others.
Each to their own.... whatever works..... just thougths never seem to stop do they. On and on and on - weird and wonderful.
I don't think I have negative energy - but I actually have to work at that. Positive energy comes easy mostly. Then people think you are positively loopy - turning stuff into positive and all sweetness and light and it isnt really like that. Its not about being false - it's about trying to get through and making it work. Isn't it?
Babbling to bed...
Utopia
Tonight I went to the most magical place I have ever been in a dream. This place was dark but beautiful in its grandeur and solitude. I was there looking for an angel. When I arrived I was with a group of people yet somehow only I knew that way. I drove there in a car that seemed more like a coach, one that would carry royalty to a palace. For I had to find a prince.
When I arrived there there was an archway that came into an open scene. But it was a back alley with the sky exposed. I journeyed there because of my own romance, absent yet never forgotten. For I knew there was only one in this world that I loved to such an extent. The streets were cobblestone and it seemed the sun never shone here. It was always evening and the air and the streets were clean without a single piece of litter or debris.
Green moss adorned the walls and the streets decoratively softening the darkness. The streets were for the prince to walk down and commune with the town's select inhabitants. For the prince was the main attraction.
There was a narrow river that passed through the courtyard. The buildings were oddly styled in stone alleyways with arches for doorways.
When I arrived my heart warmed in great anticipation and longing yet the streets were seemingly barren of any inhabitants.
I walked through a stone archway and another archway was to my left. It went out into a very narrow street in an alleyway. To my right was a stone wall that followed the river with a small opening and bridge that crossed the river into the triangular shaped courtyard.
The moon reflected sullenly on the river's surface. The bridge seemed to appear and disappear. One speculated as to the will that allowed the bridge to be seen and then unseen.
I crossed the bridge with fellow travelers and when we reached the other side, all of the doors were locked and shut up tight. It seemed like we were on the back side of a large towering castle.
When I and the party crossed the river to go back the bridge then disappeared. Everyone left in the coach that brought us and I remained alone here to speculate.
I lamented this lost love in darkness and solitude. The river and the darkness of this chamber seemed so vacant and forlorn. Emptiness purposely adorned this place as if it was perhaps the greatest source of actual beauty. One never knows the value of companionship without experiencing loneliness like this.
After a long moment I cried out and asked, "Where is the master?" Suddenly from the archway that led into the alleyway a young woman with a tall blond wig heard me cry and stopped in the doorway and whispered that, "One night a week the master will walk the streets and entertain the people with magic." I strangely knew this but somehow could not recall that detail.
I surmised this was why the courtyard was empty. Then the people I arrived with pulled up in the coach again. They all got out and were irritated and angry that the courtyard was still vacant.
Then the master buoyantly walked through the archway to the left. He had comely almond eyes and warm dark skin with curly long black hair pushed back that lay just below shoulder length. On his head he wore a black and purple hat with a long red feather on the side.
My heart was immediately warmed. I felt a love that I will never be able to convey here in mere words.
Then some of the people were angry and began to lunge at him and I stood between them and him and said they would have to go through me first. They sensed my selfless dedication and backed down.
I was dazzled by the idea that my prince had become an entertainer for the people. All while I waited for him he was building this life for us.
He came close to me and I began to tremble. I could feel the heat of his nearness.
He then held up a playing card in his hand and without even moving a muscle in his hand the single card became two. He then revealed them as a black and a red jack as he smiled. Everyone marvled and my heart sank in such awe.
Again I could sense his warmth and the familiarity of loving him for a very long time. He took a hold of my hand and I remembered the feel of his large and rough hands. I was at home again with my angel.
The dark cobblestone streets and the river were somehow the inverse of what was inside of him.
I perceived a brightness of light within him and then saw a pure white dove that was caged within his heart. I then knew that it was I who was this dove.
The bridge reappeared and still holding my hand he led me onto the bridge toward the courtyard.
Suddenly I awoke in my bed and the dream was now alive in my mind and consciousness. I have only one recourse but to write this down so as never to forget this place and his undying love for me.
I can still sense his beating heart and the magic allure to his continence. The romantic gothic scene and his gypsy-like appearance. Is it possible to dream from someone else's consciousness?
True love will always find a way in through a hidden passage and courtyard to entertain its most secret desires and passions of the heart.
RR
Baby You’re A Star
The day we met
Was the day my heart fell
Hopelessly in love with you
I remember it well
Now I can’t erase
From my mind
Like a candle burning
Till the end of time
Baby you’re a star
Shining so bright
I wish for you
In the sky at night
All I do is dream
Of what we now are
And what you’ll always be to me
Baby you’re a star.
Instrumental
You’re a fire burning
Inside of me
That you lit one day
When I first saw your beauty
To hold your hand
And be with you forever
And whisper in your ear
I love you like no other
Time can never change
The tears that we cried
You’ll always be the light
That I hold inside
Baby you’re a star
Shining so bright
I wish for you
In the sky at night
All I do is dream
Of what we now are
And what you’ll always be to me
Baby you’re a star
Baby you’re a star
Baby you’re a star
2/1/2010
RexRed
Again, you say you much fear that that Elysium of which you have dreamed so much, is never to be realized. Well, if it shall not...it will not be the fault of her...I now have no doubt that it is the peculiar misfortune of both you and me, to dream dreams of Elysium far exceeding all that any thing earthly can realize.
Abraham Lincoln (letter to Joshua Speed)
Love Ship
My life is like a sailing ship
The ropes are dreams and visions
That climb the masts to the top
They hold the billowing sails
Which propel me along
Slender and sleek,
I cut through the
Virulent torrents of life
Seeking only a harbor
Upon your friendly shore
From bow to stern
I am measured by virtue
Fueled only by
The current of your desire
Filled with cargoes
Of life's mercantile and trade,
Treasures to lay at your feet.
Through tempest and fair winds
I cling to your coastline
Night and day, weeks,
Months and years pass
Yet my way is never lost
All navigation remains true
To your course
Planks are sure
Neither does age or decay
Cause me to list or sink
On an even keel and rudder
I press forward toward
The heart of our love
For marvelous union
Awaits our destiny
RexRed
5/22/2011
Even perfection can be improved upon, for the only true perfection is infinite void.
War Zone
Maria was a little girl living in a war zone. She heard the bombs explode every day and saw constant gunfire as people around her died and cried for mercy. One day Maria was playing near the road and stepped on a bomb buried in the sand. Maria became another victim of the war zone.
Angry people shout back and forth they have their history of hate, dreams of conquest but no place for love. Sing little child a song of grace and may the angels bring peace to your soul.
Jesus lived in a city where the war was held back. But one day the militants broke down the barrier, stormed the city and killed his parents. Jesus watched as his parents were slain then he escaped by hiding in a sewer drain. Now he lives in an orphanage with other lost children who also mourn with such pain.
Tears have no meaning when you are a victim of the war zone. Angry people shout back and forth they have their history of hate and dreams of conquest but no place for love.
What could make people hate one another so much to take even what little children have? They did not stand a chance and had no real part in this war of greed. If there is a God this God must also be weeping. Sing little ones a song of grace and may the angels bring peace to your souls.
Young Mohammed joined the army because his parents told him that martyrs go to paradise. So he strapped a suicide belt around his waste and blew himself up in a crowded mosque. Now the prayers of his mother are in vain, for there is no paradise for those who die in shame.
Tears have no meaning when you are a victim of the war zone. Angry people shout back and forth they have their history of hate, dreams of conquest but no place for love. What could make people hate one another so much to take even what children have? They did not stand a chance and played no real part in this war of greed. If there is a God, this God must also be weeping. Sing little ones a song of grace and may the angels bring peace to your souls.
Christianity, Jewish or Islam; priest, rabbi or imam. War zones are not the will of God, Jehovah or Allah but are made by dictators and fools seeking glory only to find disgrace in the end. There is no pride in murder and death. Even heroes fall by the hands of the war zone.
Israel works at a hospital emergency room near the war zone. At first he used to cry at night when the injured were brought in from the fierce battles but as time passed he became cold and indifferent to their suffering. Now he does not cry any longer, he cannot feel anything, not even his own soul.
Tears have no meaning when you are a victim of the war zone. Angry people shout back and forth they have their history of hate, dreams of conquest but no place for love. What could make people hate one another so much to take even what little of the self is left? They did not stand a chance and played no real part in this war of greed. If there is a God, there must also be weeping.
Sing a song of grace and hope the angels bring peace to your souls.
RexRed 9/14/11
Beautiful Dancer
Dance
Perfection in motion
Dancing in my dream
Dance
Let inhibitions go
With the flow
I need you so
Dancer dancer beautiful romancer
Dancer dancer beautiful dancer
Your physical
And my emotional
Dancing together
In such sweet love
Dancer dancer beautiful romancer
Dancer dancer beautiful dancer
Such form and grace
Captured in one place
In a perfect scene
Your a perfect dream
Then the rhythm starts to hype
And the music gets just right
We can dance into the night
Dancer dancer beautiful romancer
Dancer dancer beautiful dancer
RexRed
9/23/2011
I'll keep on singing till the COWS COME HOME!!!!!
you know i cannot bear this life one single second without my prince.
Okay and here we go... Thinking about thinking is thinking about thoughts that are thinking of thoughts which are thoughts but in a different word altogether. Can't stop typing must get this out like bird droppings so velvet. Smooth like jazz but clunky like square tyres on linoleum. Rex! You have come up with a thread that is quite challenging to actually be in the stream without using backspace. Must not use it for it breaks the stream. Even a full stop seemingly breaks the stream. What is the steam? Had to use backspace twice so people don't think I'm a bad speller. Arggghh. It is hardest to be genuine in the stream but stream of flow or flow of movememnt in head to fingertips is breaking apart. No second guessing with other choices, must be the first for it will not be in the stream but apart and pondered like a foriegn entity in brain. Had to use back space again. Argggh.
