To the stolen heart

Go home

Photo Laisser la lumière m'inonder(3)

thanks to beebee for the inspiration…

Too many deaths, too many breaths,
Taken by our complicity !
And guilt – no less – has got the best
Of my duplicity…
I say enough, enough of that !
I need some clarity.
Now everyone must watch my back
Because of my lunacy,
So I don’t fall, don’t fall again,
Fall for that lonesome train
That carries me so far away
From home when I am vain !
So I shall go, go very slow
To make sure I come home,
Home to the land, land that will show
I’ve never been alone !

Antoine Burgos
January, the 30th



Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley (1875)


Necessary thoughts !

Melissa I. Hassard

(A mother of a rant)

At some point in the early mornings, A. usually crawls into my bed in the still-dark-out, wanting to snuggle.  This morning is no exception, and he cuddles up next to me.  We drift for a while like this, on a quiet raft of early morning.

I am lying there with my eyes closed but my mind is awake, running through the conversations I have had lately with my pro-gun friends.  What I have come to realize is that some of them are not arguing for the right to keep their guns.  We (I) have stated over and over that we are (I am) not interested in taking that right away from them.  What I have come to understand is that they are arguing their right to not be inconvenienced.  Gun ownership should be as convenient as, say, eggs at Wal-mart.  And this stuns me.

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In my way


In my way,

I’ve always tripped on the delay,
In my way,
I have always kept you at bay…
In a way
You’d definitely call decay,
I’ve been hit
By all the truths that were to play,

So I stick
To a phantom of paradise today,
The one that’s been
Listen to all of my insanities,
The one that’s been
Playing with me and his freesbee,
SO I’ll remain
As a thorn in your side again,
Like a pain
That’s been unbearable and vain !

It’s so plain
That you still care for Arnold Layne,
And the game
Should have lead me to a good change,
But instead,
The darkest thoughts run through my head,
And the bread
Is rank as the heartbeat of my mislead.

So I’ll crawl
For sympathy of the fallen angel,
And I’ll plead
For ignoring all the burning dangers,
Will I seek
For forgiveness in your black eyes flame ?
Will I see
The weariness when you’re finally there ?

January, the 13th

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Brothers of the dawn

Wonder when I will let out my tears
Wonder when I’ll be freed from my fears
As I hear this old wind that’s howling
In the night
In the night

Been so long since this fire is burning
Been so long since my soul is yearning
As I feel that my heart is longing
For the light
For the light

And I guess I have been preparing
For the fight for my mind and the whistling
That’s aloud as my heart is a-pounding
For the right
For the right

Though I light another cigarette
Though my lips have again got wet
I realize the illusion’s warning
It’s a sin
It’s a sin

So I open my curtain this morning
And I wish that the bells were a-ringing
As I look for a shadow of doubt
In this hour
In this hour

So I’ll wait for the new dawn rising
So I’ll claim for the new clear coming
Of the One that’s been understanding
From the start
From the start

January, the 11th

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Beautiful story !

The Persecution of Mildred Dunlap

I rarely write personal posts but I just read about something at Kerry Dwyer’s blog site that reminded me of something that changed my life, something I wanted to share, the power of touch.

While in grad school at UCLA, I had a clinical rotation at a VA outpatient hospital, when a homeless man was brought in to the emergency room. He was filthy with a foul odor, as if he hadn’t changed his clothes in days nor took them off to go to the bathroom. I saw him come with the paramedics and the commotion that ensued with a lull before anyone started treatment, to gown and glove up, goggles over eyes, all body parts covered. The swarm of doctors and nurses began working on him as I made my way over to what looked like a great teaching experience I didn’t want to miss out on. When one…

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