Monday, April 9, 2018

Breathings of a Heart.

Fill your writings with the breathings of your heart.
The words of Wordsworth, 
and it is Hoffman who reflects on just that,
our hearts.
We have all experienced pain of some kind
in our life's. It wouldn't be life without times of both good and bad.
Hoffman speaks about the sorrows of her childhood,
and the pain of impacting trauma
and how it was that words helped her through.
To write freely, with no one to judge you, is an antidote to stress and sorrow.
It gives back something you may have lost:
your voice.
So it was, she took herself to another place,
and it was her words that guided her there.
It was what helped her survive, helped her too to understand the loss of the parts of her world.
I wonder how much we choose to 
understand of ourselves and others, and how much we might wish 
that our words could be turned like sunflowers to the sun.
We hope always to do better.
We hope always to find the answers to help that along,
to understand in others as we understand ourselves,
to seek what we can through our experiences and lives,
and through each other,
the right words.
Words of hope
and words of love
from the hearts that speak.
To further read Hoffman's reflections,
here's the link.
The DovekeepersThe Marriage of OppositesHere on Earth

Saturday, March 24, 2018

The learn in give.

In this world,
what can we give?
What do we wish?
If in knowledge and composure,
could we have managed to somehow avoid,
gain, grow and learn?
Could we have gathered to do and be more,
receive and given more?
Could we have tried
to be that person we so admire?
If I could,
in this world,
I would wave a wand and rewrite words.
I would change time and place.
I would wish peace to those who struggle to gain.
I would wish I could change
past to present,
and give one thing to those
harmed and those who harm.
I would wish to give peace,
and sprinkle it like dust across hearts, home, and land.
I would wish,
in this world
that we could forgive as well as we can give.

Tuesday, June 6, 2017


Tug on one end and see what lands.
Tug the other and see
where you land.
The inspired.
Words. Thoughts.
Open. Wide.
The AlchemistThe Five People You Meet in HeavenThe Book Thief
The ProphetThe Weight of Glory

Saturday, April 15, 2017

Do you, wonder?

Do you wonder,
wonder do.
When you ask 
what if's, when's and all the things
that should have been.
Do you wonder,
wonder do.
Across the skies and over seas,
the wonder in earth
and soil
and all that slips in between.
In the spaces,
and in the crevice such abyss
there is a face,
 eyes full of wonder do wonder.
Do you?
The Wonder

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

I will tell you a story.

I will tell you a story.
I will whisper it in your ear.
It is a story that is true,
a sad and sorrowful tale.
A story you want to hear.
I will tell you things not seen,
and all those words slipped in between.
I will tell you of
what it is to fall between.
I will tell you
what it is to whisper truth,
what something like that tastes like.
I will tell you a story.
Tell me a story

Monday, April 10, 2017

The Movie Ove.

It's not often
we find things that touch those places in
us that stir up and provoke question,
get us rolling over the hills of our own lives and 
touch our hearts in a way that hooks.
Ove digs into us,
Image result for ove
the movie itself an astounding success as it probes and asks 
us to ponder on our lives,
on what counts,
on those special moments and special people
that stay with us,
challenge us,
 give to us that joyfulness that fills and gives and hopes.
Ove reminds us of love,
 all the aspects and beauty in what we give to each other,
what we have had good fortune to share,
and what we still can give.
You may look at romantic love in this regard,
but love is in what we can do and give to those around us,
those in passing, those we can make difference to,
and those that remain important in our lives.
It's a simple and honest generosity of spirit
without thought of getting anything in return,
but we always do just the same.
In lightness and in truth of heart,
we always, always,
I wish you the joy of Ove,
but most importantly,
I wish you all the joy of 
If in a moment,
if in a day,
let it stay within your hearts
in all and every way.
Image result for ove

Monday, February 20, 2017

The Kindness.

You can brush across a heart,
and in that heart
it manages to do something for you,
remind you of something,
make you remember.
You can brush against a heart,
and remember
 there is still
There is
Hearts in a day.
See Through Heart

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

The Library Of Calm.

The Library of Calm,
that's where you will find me.
I sit in the corner,
and in this place I watch and see
 surrounded by words 
that do the same as me.
The Library of Calm,
a joyous quiet place to be
tucked away
in spaces no one can see,
where yours to mine,
and mine to yours,
where we all are
to see.
The Invisible Library (The Invisible Library, #1)
Top of her game, or she is gone.
She surely is hiding things.
This is the adventure of stolen books,
secret agents, and forbidden societies.
Her aim is to find the book.
The answers are in there.
Failure is not an option,
for the nature of reality is clearly at stake.
The Invisible Library.
What's your stake?

Saturday, February 11, 2017

Burning House. Manchester by the Sea.

One mistake.
That's all it took,
and everything was lost, gone, burned to the ground.
This is not light-hearted fun,
but it is absolutely and undeniably real.
Yeah, real.
Not the illusion of Hollywood's more typical crash bang spit sputter glitter.
Manchester is earthy, grounded, sad and sorrowful,
and it is beautiful.
There was too much feeling in this movie, too much bravery,
too much trying,
and it was impossible not to be affected by it.
There is one scene where the two impacted characters face each other.
They lost a lot, 
and it was through love that one wished to help the other.
Such a gesture of pure honesty, love in words,
in seeing and in trying.
Sometimes, it's the most modest gestures that reveal our strength.
Sometimes it's more than that. 
And sometimes, it's just more.
See this movie, 
and feel something real.

Thursday, February 9, 2017

The Secret Swimmer.

The heavens claim.
She is gone, forever gone --
until in the blink of an eye he glances up and sees her again.
Could it be?
Is he seeing straight?
 Was it her?
Could he possibly believe?
In that one moment, everything he thought is reversed,
and the letters are found.
Letters written that tell of a life, the truth of that life, and not at all what he had thought or hoped to believe.
They thought she was dead, and now they don't know what to think at all.
Did she run away?
A secret played?
The truth in pages.
The truth in words.
Letters that ebb and flow the waves of time.
Swimming Lessons.

Sunday, February 5, 2017

Olive vs. Jasper. What next?

The Next Two.
The Next Pick.
Both will be read, a no doubt guarantee, but how to immediately decide between Jasper Jones
 and Olive Kitteridge.
Take it from the first few lines.
Take it from one's own mood.
Olive is brutally honest and offers insights into our conflicts, our insights,
tragedy, joy and endurance. Life. But, she's a tough customer one has to be in the mood for.
"Traits don't change, states of mind do."
And then there's Jasper, a precocious boy startled one night by a knock on his window.
Where does it take him?
Where does it lead?
That which knocks does not necessarily mean follow,
but he does and learns truth from myth and why white lies creep like a curse.
Jasper Jones, as everything changed.
Olive KitteridgeJasper Jones

Monday, January 23, 2017

We Come to, Split, Shyamala's latest.

Not since Sybil have we seen splits such as these,
a multitude of characters in the host of one body, a fascinating starting point to a
 sordid tale on the effects of trauma.
Betty Buckley, still beautiful in her advanced age, plays Dr. Fletcher and brings
a real human touch to the condition of multiple disorders in this film,
and it's this combination of compassion and horror that ties together well.
She was brilliant, and even though
McAvoy did a superb job playing the multitudes,
it was Buckley that ground the story in believability, and let's face it, 
the root of any successful bit of scary is to create a story that teeters on the edge of possibility.
I'm not a huge fan of the scary genre,
but this was in the psychological thriller realm, and there's no one better than Shyamala to pull it off with just the right blend of twists and edge of your seat, 
"Hurry, hurry, turn the damn lock and get the hell out."
 The guy has experience, worked it well in Sixth Sense and some will say brought it home with Split.
There were moments in the end,
where he loosened the reigns with the appearance of the Beast, but he only let it brush against the supernatural briefly before he snapped it back to what was a well laid out story on the protection of the human spirit, the fight we all have in us to survive,
and the Beast that comes forward to ensure such survival.
Human regeneration of the crazy kind!
So, if you're in the mood for scary,
take a punt on
The best I've seen in its category in a very long time.

To Give Up. Hemingway.

To give up on anything,
it's a terrible crime and punishment.
A death of its own kind, you could say.
I wonder about those "things" we
hold so very dear
a part of us in some way or another,
that in being so,
become our fibers, the parts we grow along the way.
To decide, to make conscious effort, to give up 
is death.
Taking your own hands and digging out that part of yourself, whatever it may be, 
the clawing of flesh.
A painful process that leaves one to wonder at the kind of deaths
we do live in one life.
By choice. By circumstance. By forces outside our control.
Take Hemingway as an example,
not necessarily an example that will level with any of our own deaths, but still ...
Image result for Hemingway
There was a moment in his life
where all was lost,
where every word he'd ever written taken in a suitcase brought with good intention.
Every copy too, gone.
He must have stood there under that realization and just felt emptied out, 
gone himself to some extent,
but eventually what lived in him, what indeed was him resurfaced,
and whilst some of his heart died in that moment,
there was too something left to take over.
And so he did,
and so we have him forever as a result.
What is in our hearts,
is our hearts.
Clawed, or not. 
That which is us,

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Have your way. Have mine. Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche.

Moral ground.
Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
You have your way. I have my way.
As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way,
it does not exist.
So. What does?  Exist?
Nietzsche, and his moral code.
I will not make comment on thoughts of any Germanic kind,
not will I venture into his misogynistic attitudes,
but I will talk about this idea of morality.
Hume's thought centers on the belief that morality is built on natural sympathy for others.
What do you think?
Is it our empathy, our insight that allows us to conduct ourselves in what is deemed acceptable order,
or is it what is engrained in us, taught in our pews of knowledge and past,
taught and shown in what we must value.
For yes, of course there must indeed be order,
but there too must be honesty,
and there treads the difficulty with people confronted by, right, just, and reasonable
restrain within a framework of honesty to one's self.
Nietzsche explores this,
and succeeds with all its controversy and all the support of other philosophers that
leave political correctness by the wayside to explore societal truths, restrictions, guidelines
of our "rightness' within our own personal frames.
We can agree at the end with this one Nietzsche thought ...
Life is ultimately absurd, was not a reason for angst but a cause for celebration, self-creation, and artistic fervor.
We follow what has passed,
belief of our predecessors, belief in our own place, and we tread somewhere in the middle of
what is written in stone
and what can be written in truth.
And so, find our own moral ground,
and exploration of mind,
with care, with love, with truth.
Human, All Too HumanBeyond Good and EvilThe Birth of Tragedy

Monday, January 16, 2017

Manguel. Dante. The Curious. And why?

it did not kill the cat.
It only raised an enlightened brow.
The question remains,
Manuel's Curiosity, his own roadmap into that question through
inquisitives like Aquinas, Hume, Carroll, Carson, Socrates,
and beloved Dante, the philosopher of "why," and the virtues and vices of loves own hell.
Purgatorio. Paradiso.
The places and spaces in between.
Our heavens. Our hells.
What we make and choose to live.
Indeed, a Divine Comedy.
In Curiosity, there are thinkers, scientists, artists,
 anyone who asks this one question,
and delves for an answer, or some semblance of.
Why this? Why that?
Why one way and not the other?
Why be or not?
Why is this, and then why that?
The question soars to the skies in imagination,
and roots itself in the solid and more concrete.
For every question stems from reality, the foundation under our feet.
It's like fact vs. fiction, both stem from truth,
one remains in it, the other pulls out clouds of why's?
The thinkers will ask,
and they will forever seek,
this that takes our why's to
what and how
to know.
Dante Alighieri

Sunday, January 15, 2017

I did not know this. Sylvia Plath.

In 1963, this day,
Sylvia Plath's THE BELL JAR
was published under her pseudonym, Victoria Lucas.
I wonder at what point she switched back.
I would love to know how that came to be.
Perhaps, after such reception to this American classic,
she felt safe enough to do so.
I wonder.
Thanks to the Hub for sharing this.