So here’s the tragedy about
D R E A M I N G
. . .we only think it’s for the young
that it has an age limit attached to it
that after a certain time, a certain age
it’s no longer viable
a n d
we do little to
DISPROVE IT. . .
PHRASES PERSONIFIED
SO. . .
ARE WE MORE THAN OUR WORDS. . .
WHAT ONE PERSON SAID:
“I have reached the pinnacle of success in business.” In other people’s eyes my life is a success.
However, aside from work, I’ve had little joy.
At the end of the day, wealth is just a fact I’ve gotten used to.
Right now, lying on my hospital bed, reminiscing all my life, I realize that all the recognition and wealth I took so much pride in, has faded and become meaningless in the face of imminent death.
You can hire someone to drive your car or make money for you, but you can’t hire someone to stand sick and die for you.
Material things lost can be found again. But there is one thing that can never be found when it is lost: Life.
Whatever stage of life we are currently at, in time we will face the day the curtain closes.
Love your family, spouse, children and friends… Treat them right .
Cherish them.
As we get older, and wiser, we slowly realize that wearing a $300 or $30 watch both give the same time
Whether we have a $300 or $30 wallet or purse, the amount inside is the same.
Whether we drive a $150,000 car or a $30,000 car, the road and the distance are the same, and we reach the same destination.
Whether we drink a $1000 or $10 bottle of wine, the hangover is the same.
Whether the house in which we live is 100 or 1000 square meters, loneliness is the same.
You will realize that your true inner happiness does not come from material things of this world.
Whether you travel first class or economy class, if the plane crashes, you go down with it…
Therefore, I hope you realize, when you have friends, brothers and sisters, with whom you discuss, laugh, talk, sing, talk about north-south-east or heaven and earth,… this is the real happiness!!
An indisputable fact of life:
Don’t raise your children to be rich.
Educate them to be happy.
When they grow up, they will know the value of things and not the price. “
THE
A N S W E R![]()
Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. . .
Anyone can deliver a good line
few can
p e r s o n i f y
or
l i v e
them. . .
(Thank you Steve Jobs for continuing to live a life you never dreamed possible
and making good–Better)
Anyone can deliver a good line
few can
p e r s o n i f y
or
l i v e
them. . .
(Thank you Steve Jobs for continuing to live a life you never dreamed possible
and making good–Better)
YOU BETTER WATCH OUT
DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE
DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR
DO YOU FEEL WHAT I FEEL
DO YOU TASTE WHAT I TASTE
DO YOU SMELL WHAT I SMELL
ALL GOOD QUESTIONS
with even better answers
Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com
S E R I O U S L Y
you better watch out
because what we
s e e
isn’t always really what is ever seen. . .
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
H O P E
“ Hope”
It hovers in dark corners
before the lights are turned on,
it shakes sleep from its eyes
and drops from mushroom gills,
it explodes in the starry heads
of dandelions turned sages,
it sticks to the wings of green angels
that sail from the tops of maples.
It sprouts in each occluded eye
of the many-eyed potato,
it lives in each earthworm segment
surviving cruelty,
it is the motion that runs
from the eyes to the tail of a dog,
it is the mouth that inflates the lungs
of the child that has just been born.
It is the singular gift
we cannot destroy in ourselves,
the argument that refutes death,
the genius that invents the future,
all we know of God.
It is the serum which makes us swear
not to betray one another;
it is in this poem, trying to speak.
“Hope” by Lisel Mueller from Alive Together. © Louisiana State University Press, 1996.
I learned early on
that the vulnerability of
putting words on a page
. . .even if that page
is crumbled
is unlined
is torn
is just-in-time-saved
from the bottom of a dirty waste paper can
is not just merely
p o e t r y
but . .
H O P E
at its best
. . .even if it’s just because of the vast amount of critics
WE ARE ALL POETS
No blank page is ever really needed
to write a poem
. . .P O E T R Y
begats
P O E T R Y
. . .hence:
A Voice
not heard
A Scent
not smelled
A Beauty
not seen
A Delicacy
not tasted
A Touch
not felt
An Intuition
not realized
And for all of the
jumbled
tumbled
tangled
N O T S
The holy common
Y E T
is
unexplainably still
e x p e r i e n c e d
h o p e
H O P E
. . .it is in the poem trying to speak