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12/03/2005 12:53:21 PM · #301 |
Bear, Bär, Oso, медведь
Oops, guess the forum doesn't like Cyrillic Russian.
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12/03/2005 12:54:58 PM · #302 |
| LOL I wondered what the numbers were for. Good stuff! |
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12/03/2005 01:55:15 PM · #303 |
Photo by Laurie Black
"He Dreamed"
He dreamed of being on his own,
so Mother tree let him go.
As he fell he enjoyed the ride,
he had never been so alive.
Blowing free on the winds of change,
he hit the ground feeling strange.
Now he lies, still on the ground
where a cold loneliness surrounds.
The sun had exposed his fragile state.
He withers alone, his deadly fate.
Message edited by author 2005-12-03 17:15:41. |
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12/03/2005 01:58:53 PM · #304 |
Does anybody want to try a poem for this one?
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12/03/2005 02:12:17 PM · #305 |
something is new
Something is new when you discover it, when it isn̢۪t like painting the town or putting on rouge, when it is like seeing it, not looking but seeing. And when it is marvellous still, it is how it is. How does it feel. It is made and it feels like how it was when it was something to see. Well look at it now.
If you remember yourself a little, you remember looking at things more naturally than anything gained by knowing what you have seen. If you remember these things a little, you remember where you have been without having to know what it means. Meaning is not the same as knowing but what happens when you remember something that makes a difference to what we have known, if we remember a little something to remind ourselves who we would be if we didn̢۪t. Then it becomes something to do.
Knowing is not the same as doing. Knowing is not the same, although it is very helpful to know how to do anything well. We have seen the effects of knowing and we have seen the effects of doing and at times we have been fortunate. Then we have seen the effects of both knowing and doing.
What is something is really something when it feels like nothing and everything at once. Then it is many things, not all at once but little by little there is enough of it to arrive at a sense of how little there is to go around. What happens is so and how can it be when nothing is something we cannot see. What is not happening is all the more reason for asking and having asked it is born. Then it is forward and fresh and going forward is what we do when we stop making do and carrying on.
What is new stays news when how little there is is enough to go forward, and nothing is new but the instant we are, we are.
Message edited by author 2005-12-03 14:27:20. |
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12/03/2005 02:12:47 PM · #306 |
| That will be a good one Tiberius there is alot of emotion here if you look real close. Jeff |
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12/03/2005 02:24:11 PM · #307 |
Originally posted by zeuszen:
something is new
Something is new when you discover it, when it isn̢۪t like painting the town or putting on rouge, when it is like seeing it, not looking but seeing. And when it is marvellous still, it is how it is. How does it feel. It is made and it feels like how it was when it was something to see. Well look at it now.
If you remember yourself a little, you remember looking at things more naturally than anything gained by knowing what you have seen. If you remember these things a little, you remember where you have been without having to know what it means. Meaning is not the same as knowing but what happens when you remember something that makes a difference to what we have known, if we remember a little something to remind ourselves who we would be if we didn̢۪t. Then it becomes something to do.
Knowing is not the same as doing. Knowing is not the same, although it is very helpful to know how to do anything well. We have seen the effects of knowing and we have seen the effects of doing and at times we have been fortunate. Then we have seen the effects of both knowing and doing.
What is something is really something when it feels like nothing and everything at once. Then it is many things, not all at once but little by little there is enough of it to arrive at a sense of how little there is to go around. What happens is so and how can it be when nothing is something we cannot see. What is not happening is all the more reason for asking and having asked it is born. Then it is forward and fresh and going forward is what we do when we stop making do and carrying on.
What is new stays news when how little there is enough to go forward, and nothing is new but the instant we are, we are. |
Nice one, ZZ. Good to have you in the mix :-)
R. |
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12/03/2005 04:44:24 PM · #308 |
Originally posted by jsas:
Photo by Laurie Black
"He Dreamed"
He dreamed of being on his own,
so Mother tree let him go.
As he fell he enjoyed the ride,
he had never been so alive.
Blowing free on the winds of change,
he hit the ground feeling strange.
Now he lies, still on the ground
where a cold loneliness surrounds.
The sun had exposed his fragile state.
He withers alone, his deadly fate. |
Made a change.
Message edited by author 2005-12-03 17:15:10. |
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12/03/2005 04:47:28 PM · #309 |
 [/quote]
Working on this one now. |
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12/03/2005 05:34:12 PM · #310 |
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Hi, Can you whrite somthing about this one
Message edited by author 2005-12-03 17:40:41. |
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12/03/2005 05:40:37 PM · #311 |
| Wow! Structor that is an awesome shot. |
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12/03/2005 05:41:19 PM · #312 |
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12/03/2005 08:59:14 PM · #313 |
Photo by Katherine Haluska
"Love"
Love is the sweet essence of action and deed.
Like the hope of the gardner planting a seed.
With time and care of the nuturing hands,
the seed will flourish to someday stand.
Oh, it is a beautiful thing
to see what the fruit of love can bring.
Where hope is planted comapassion grows.
It compares to the beauty of an elegant rose.
Just as that seed needed a loving place,
I too, needed to be cradled by your admonishing grace.
Message edited by author 2005-12-03 21:33:40. |
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12/03/2005 09:13:38 PM · #314 |
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12/03/2005 09:22:10 PM · #315 |
Working on this one next.
Message edited by author 2005-12-03 21:22:29. |
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12/03/2005 09:30:11 PM · #316 |
Originally posted by jsas:
Photo by Katherine Haluska
"Love"
Love is the sweet essence of action and deed.
Like the hope of the gardner planting a seed.
With time and care of the nuturing hands,
the seed will flourish to someday stand.
Oh, it is a beautiful thing
to see what the fruit of love can bring.
Where hope is planted comapassion grows.
It compares to the beauty of an elegant rose.
Just as that seed needed a loving place,
I too needed, to be cradled by your admonishing grace. |
Jeff...this is absolutely perfect. Thank you so very much! Your talent for poetry is amazing!
Kate
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12/03/2005 09:32:35 PM · #317 |
| Glad you like it. Hope your Mom likes it too. Jeff |
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12/03/2005 09:39:46 PM · #318 |
I don't know why, but every time I see the title of this thread this is the first photo (of mine) I think of.
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12/03/2005 09:42:24 PM · #319 |
| That is a sweet pic General. |
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12/03/2005 09:44:55 PM · #320 |
Originally posted by GeneralE:
I don't know why, but every time I see the title of this thread this is the first photo (of mine) I think of.
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I think of clouds & sunsets & of yachts
moored in some quiet anchorage, but blanch
at writing poems for any picture that
is ruined by a lower-right-hand branch.
Sorry, I couldn't resist! If the muse moves me more positively, I will atone soon :-)
R.
Message edited by author 2005-12-03 21:45:12. |
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12/03/2005 09:47:35 PM · #321 |
| LOL -- If I can make a print with the text on it, I'll make a version where I "prune the shrubbery" : ) |
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12/03/2005 09:51:53 PM · #322 |
Originally posted by GeneralE:
I don't know why, but every time I see the title of this thread this is the first photo (of mine) I think of.
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I could cheat and give you Jimmy Buffet:
But there's this one particular harbor
So far but yet so near
Where I see the days as they fade away
Finally disappear
but I'll work on something just for you.
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12/03/2005 09:56:41 PM · #323 |
Photo by Mandy Turner
"You Never Notice Me"
The clouds of sorrow cast
a shadow of fear within my home.
I feel the cold bitter blast,
as the tempest rages and groans.
I hide in a dark corner of my room
sheltered from the storm.
I hear the loud thunderous booms,
the roar shocks my trembling form.
I seek protection from the afflicting wind,
I long for grace and love to be
my rock, my refuge, my friend.
But peace, you never notice me.
Am I just a forgottern thought
or am I veiled by insecurity?
I want to live where hope is sought
and yet, you never notice me. |
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12/04/2005 12:00:22 AM · #324 |
Photo by Kiyoko Gotanda
"Insurrection"
She flaunted her beauty before the beast.
Taunting him relentlessly.
He couldn't see beyond his own lust
that she was corrupted by vanity.
She talked of sweet love
and enticing dreams.
She gave him a false hope
yet hid her fatal schemes.
So she twirled and danced
and mocked his affection.
She tore at his heart
for the sake of insurrection.
Message edited by author 2005-12-04 08:55:23. |
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12/04/2005 12:02:58 AM · #325 |
Originally posted by jsas:
Photo by Mandy Turner
"You Never Notice Me"
The clouds of sorrow cast
a shadow of fear within my home.
I feel the cold bitter blast,
as the tempest rages and groans.
I hide in a dark corner of my room
sheltered from the storm.
I hear the loud thunderous booms,
the roar shocks my trembling form.
I seek protection from the afflicting wind,
I long for grace and love to be
my rock, my refuge, my friend.
But peace, you never notice me.
Am I just a forgottern thought
or am I veiled by insecurity?
I want to live where hope is sought
and yet, you never notice me. |
I love that Jeff, reminds me of my old stuff, but less gothick :o) Very well done.
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