All things come full cycle and many cycles run at once. However, one particular cycle has just about run its course and I do not see it changing in one direction or another. A seasoned individual knows that seasons change. Perhaps my gears need a nudge, but the time is not yet up.
November (novem) = 9. You may see the eleventh month, but I don’t. Actually, for me, all things come to change in September as that is my month for change. It has always been so in the course of mine own history and thus shall be thus again. ~ Maggie ~ May 31, 2009
“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” - Elizabeth Barrett Browning
*Love. A most interesting topic of discussion isn’t it? What if one counted all the ways yet saw the season changing? Seasons change don’t they? Am I in season? Yes. And I am seasoned as well. I won’t read things that are not there. ~ Maggie ~ May 24, 2009
* Although this is part of another piece of my literature, I have chosen not to post the full content.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Knocking...(NEVER POSTED)
A gentle tap upon you door is sometimes heard sometimes ignored
I understand
Time...
A thing that is fleeting when restricted
Communication...
Allows me to know you
But there is a wall
Why?
I want so bad to say what I wish, but I hold my tongue for your benefit. The keys are now my instrument. Sense is that of frustration.
Lost for words, but not. How shall I put this? With tongue held for benefit, my keys are free to evoke that which was shut. My sense picked up hostility and frustration. However, I question why? The why is not for what I sense, but for what keeps you as thus. I see you keeping yourself as thus. Perhaps I am not for you and that is fine with me.
November... ~ Maggie ~ May 24, 2009 @ ??? distracted again
I understand
Time...
A thing that is fleeting when restricted
Communication...
Allows me to know you
But there is a wall
Why?
I want so bad to say what I wish, but I hold my tongue for your benefit. The keys are now my instrument. Sense is that of frustration.
Lost for words, but not. How shall I put this? With tongue held for benefit, my keys are free to evoke that which was shut. My sense picked up hostility and frustration. However, I question why? The why is not for what I sense, but for what keeps you as thus. I see you keeping yourself as thus. Perhaps I am not for you and that is fine with me.
November... ~ Maggie ~ May 24, 2009 @ ??? distracted again
Where can I start? (NEVER POSTED)
Where can I start? Perhaps it is best to note the first pondering of “who am I?” Yes. Regardless of my past, there was always a side of me that questioned “what is” and “what if.” Thinking back, I recall writing my thoughts on paper in regard to “who am I?” If memory serves me any merit, I was about 16 years old when the thought occurred to me. Despite time, the concept stayed with me long after the paper disappeared. Then again, it may be amongst my tons of papers. Who knows.
The gist of my words were: Who am I? Am I who I am or am I who I appear to be to others? I addressed masks and facets of self. In the address I had also noted that it was my belief that we are truly ourselves when alone as all the fragments come together, the masks are dropped, and thus in our solitude we are whole. Who really knows who and what we are? Based on observations, one could say so and so got to point B by coming from point A, however, is it really that linear? No. Only one person can know the full internal process(es) and that is the individual who experiences themself. Acknowledgment. Ah yes. That wonderful word brought forward via introspection. Can one really lie to themselves? It is possible through rote to convince yourself that such and such happened or did not happen, but in all seriousness, who is really being fooled?
I chose to write about this today after discussing life with Stan. The above was mentioned and then I questioned the matter of our universe and where it lies. Based on thoughts of self, but not in a selfish way, I stated that the universe lies within us in various ways. It is not just our minds which holds our data, but also within our very atomic structure. We spoke of living in the dark, looking for the light, and blindness. He too is aware of our energy and, for lack of a better word, metamorphosis.
For those of you who have read me, you may remember that I posted a blog relating to the meaning of life. Although I cannot say I have an answer for you, I can say that I have an answer for me. ~ Maggie ~ May 24, 2009 @ ??? I got distracted.
The gist of my words were: Who am I? Am I who I am or am I who I appear to be to others? I addressed masks and facets of self. In the address I had also noted that it was my belief that we are truly ourselves when alone as all the fragments come together, the masks are dropped, and thus in our solitude we are whole. Who really knows who and what we are? Based on observations, one could say so and so got to point B by coming from point A, however, is it really that linear? No. Only one person can know the full internal process(es) and that is the individual who experiences themself. Acknowledgment. Ah yes. That wonderful word brought forward via introspection. Can one really lie to themselves? It is possible through rote to convince yourself that such and such happened or did not happen, but in all seriousness, who is really being fooled?
I chose to write about this today after discussing life with Stan. The above was mentioned and then I questioned the matter of our universe and where it lies. Based on thoughts of self, but not in a selfish way, I stated that the universe lies within us in various ways. It is not just our minds which holds our data, but also within our very atomic structure. We spoke of living in the dark, looking for the light, and blindness. He too is aware of our energy and, for lack of a better word, metamorphosis.
For those of you who have read me, you may remember that I posted a blog relating to the meaning of life. Although I cannot say I have an answer for you, I can say that I have an answer for me. ~ Maggie ~ May 24, 2009 @ ??? I got distracted.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
The Cold~
I recognize the cold and its deliverance and its deliverance is not just to me. Perhaps the person is just that way, yet I wonder how they got that way. I have seen and felt such before, but the circumstances are different: the people are different. In past case, it came from a history of such which was broken a generation ago. It is not that the person did not feel, but the person, no matter what, could not speak it to anyone. Past case was able to do, but not to say. In present case, I am not sure of the capability of doing, however, I am aware of the not saying.
Perhaps the one who issues the cold does not see the delivery nor may they be aware of their own actions/inactions. Invariably, there is a reason for the cold. The icy stillness has to affect them inside in order to show on the surface. The inside that is dark, cold, and alone or so it seems. From my perspective, it seems that it is something that they don’t want to talk about or can’t.
An attentive person can read such patterns whereas an inattentive person will dismiss them or become angered by them. Everyone has their closet and some, through time and experience, allow the contents to air so that they may be refreshed. Then again, one would require recognition of such closet contents to be able to air them. What happens if one recognizes it not and the monster continues its snore unabated? Unrecognized?
Could it be that it is not so much that a void has to be filled? I really don't know. However, if I had to guess, I think it would be more at ridding oneself of baggage that has yet to be claimed. Yes. Perhaps that is it. ~ Maggie ~ May 9, 2009 @ 7:05 p.m. EST
Perhaps the one who issues the cold does not see the delivery nor may they be aware of their own actions/inactions. Invariably, there is a reason for the cold. The icy stillness has to affect them inside in order to show on the surface. The inside that is dark, cold, and alone or so it seems. From my perspective, it seems that it is something that they don’t want to talk about or can’t.
An attentive person can read such patterns whereas an inattentive person will dismiss them or become angered by them. Everyone has their closet and some, through time and experience, allow the contents to air so that they may be refreshed. Then again, one would require recognition of such closet contents to be able to air them. What happens if one recognizes it not and the monster continues its snore unabated? Unrecognized?
Could it be that it is not so much that a void has to be filled? I really don't know. However, if I had to guess, I think it would be more at ridding oneself of baggage that has yet to be claimed. Yes. Perhaps that is it. ~ Maggie ~ May 9, 2009 @ 7:05 p.m. EST
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
ME~
Me look unto I as I do not recognize I. Gaze. Ah there! Yes. Beneath the curtain lies the being.
Screaming in silence is always the loudest and the echoes reverberate and can shake one to their core. No one knows what veils one wears or why. Smiles alight and show not what factors haunt. Nonetheless, one screams until they cry and then tend to themselves quietly–kindly and lovingly. Compartments are made for storage of such volumes which gather dust over time yet the compartment is never forgotten nor are the volumes that are stored within. They serve as a reference point. Refer back to chapter 26 in book 9 which is housed on self 8 in room 1. Ah! It says I lived! I now leave this volume to you. ~ Maggie ~ May 6, 2009 @ 6:38 p.m. EST
Screaming in silence is always the loudest and the echoes reverberate and can shake one to their core. No one knows what veils one wears or why. Smiles alight and show not what factors haunt. Nonetheless, one screams until they cry and then tend to themselves quietly–kindly and lovingly. Compartments are made for storage of such volumes which gather dust over time yet the compartment is never forgotten nor are the volumes that are stored within. They serve as a reference point. Refer back to chapter 26 in book 9 which is housed on self 8 in room 1. Ah! It says I lived! I now leave this volume to you. ~ Maggie ~ May 6, 2009 @ 6:38 p.m. EST
Monday, May 4, 2009
Noise...
Shocked grass electric dance
Steps that appear and do not lead
Here nor there
Dots of light bounce
Each holding packets
Contents vast
Dots connect but are moving
Spilling contents while containing them
Colors, images, sound...
Sound...
While thinking, there is great noise. Is thinking an intention on the part of the thinker? What is the intention of an idea? Where do supposed random thoughts/ideas come from? What if the idea(s) as thought cannot be verified by any empirical method? What if at this level it is just a time of gathering? A harvest per se. Silence screams loudly, but not as loudly as the noise.
Books calm the noise but create their own noise in the silence that seems to be only to others. No one but me hears it. The silence is only noted by me when I stop reading and take note that THAT sound has ceased and the great noise arises again. Video to sleep drowns out the noise. ~ Maggie ~ May 4, 2009 @ 2:06 p.m. EST
This was sent to me by a friend from another site and I share it with you. Of course I could not let well enough alone and had to look up the author.
I just want to share this with a very interesting individual. :)
And then a scholar said, "Speak of Talking."
And he answered, saying:
You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts;
And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime.
And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.
For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words many indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.
There are those among you who seek the talkative through fear of being alone.
The silence of aloneness reveals to their eyes their naked selves and they would escape.
And there are those who talk, and without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand.
And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words.
In the bosom of such as these the spirit dwells in rhythmic silence.
When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.
Let the voice within your voice speak to the ear of his ear;
For his soul will keep the truth of your heart as the taste of the wine is remembered
When the color is forgotten and the vessel is no more. ~ Khalil Gibran
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khalil_Gibran
Steps that appear and do not lead
Here nor there
Dots of light bounce
Each holding packets
Contents vast
Dots connect but are moving
Spilling contents while containing them
Colors, images, sound...
Sound...
While thinking, there is great noise. Is thinking an intention on the part of the thinker? What is the intention of an idea? Where do supposed random thoughts/ideas come from? What if the idea(s) as thought cannot be verified by any empirical method? What if at this level it is just a time of gathering? A harvest per se. Silence screams loudly, but not as loudly as the noise.
Books calm the noise but create their own noise in the silence that seems to be only to others. No one but me hears it. The silence is only noted by me when I stop reading and take note that THAT sound has ceased and the great noise arises again. Video to sleep drowns out the noise. ~ Maggie ~ May 4, 2009 @ 2:06 p.m. EST
This was sent to me by a friend from another site and I share it with you. Of course I could not let well enough alone and had to look up the author.
I just want to share this with a very interesting individual. :)
And then a scholar said, "Speak of Talking."
And he answered, saying:
You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts;
And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime.
And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.
For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words many indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.
There are those among you who seek the talkative through fear of being alone.
The silence of aloneness reveals to their eyes their naked selves and they would escape.
And there are those who talk, and without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand.
And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words.
In the bosom of such as these the spirit dwells in rhythmic silence.
When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.
Let the voice within your voice speak to the ear of his ear;
For his soul will keep the truth of your heart as the taste of the wine is remembered
When the color is forgotten and the vessel is no more. ~ Khalil Gibran
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khalil_Gibran
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