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Thread: reflection

  1. #131
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    Can we not merge it with wildcat's blog?

  2. #132
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    Quote Originally Posted by wildcat View Post
    True. Expectation is not acceptance.
    Maybe that is why Krishnamurti said hope is suicide.
    Whatever will be, will be.

    Acceptance is courage to live.
    To live is to own nothing.

    To love and be loved is to abide by the tide. Night is wise.
    Tide.

  3. #133
    a white iris elfinchilde's Avatar
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    merging/not merging: Tide.

    Sure, dane. It is for wildcat to decide.

    I just realised our blogs are not available to the public. it seems that there are many guests who read this. Perhaps better to leave it this way, then.

    Tidal.

    another link: An old poem i wrote, years ago. if sound is presence, then silence is absence, is it not? And one who reads absences reads deeper than one who reads presence.

    Tidal

    When the tide goes out the first sound you hear
    is struggle against ebb.
    The second is sand beneath; that is
    subtext of attrition, need to believe

    beyond strand line's haul
    of decaying weeds, marine bones
    surrendered
    past recognition of form,

    something lasts
    like the abraded shell, stripped
    and broke of scalloped fineries;

    that is final clarity of seeing
    all nicks, chips, perfections
    and potentials,

    lay to rest the unadmitted conclusions
    of drawn lines, and erosions
    from those lines.
    You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
    They called me the hyacinth girl.
    Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
    Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
    Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
    Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
    Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

    --T.S Eliot, The Wasteland

  4. #134
    Senior Member wildcat's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by elfinchilde View Post
    merging/not merging: Tide.

    Sure, dane. It is for wildcat to decide.

    I just realised our blogs are not available to the public. it seems that there are many guests who read this. Perhaps better to leave it this way, then.

    Tidal.

    another link: An old poem i wrote, years ago. if sound is presence, then silence is absence, is it not? And one who reads absences reads deeper than one who reads presence.

    Tidal

    When the tide goes out the first sound you hear
    is struggle against ebb.
    The second is sand beneath; that is
    subtext of attrition, need to believe

    beyond strand line's haul
    of decaying weeds, marine bones
    surrendered
    past recognition of form,

    something lasts
    like the abraded shell, stripped
    and broke of scalloped fineries;

    that is final clarity of seeing
    all nicks, chips, perfections
    and potentials,

    lay to rest the unadmitted conclusions
    of drawn lines, and erosions
    from those lines.
    A very beautiful poem, thank you elfie.

    The first time I experienced tide on the shores of the Isle of the Goths.
    Although in the Baltic it is not as magnificient as it is on the shores of the Atlantic.
    The Baltic Sea is a semi-salted semi-lake.

    Her tributaries the Bothnia and the Finnish Gulf are even less salty and less sea-like with no tide at all.
    Whatever you do, do not go to Bothnia. They play all kinds of idiotic games there.

    Image:Baltic Sea map.png - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
    Last edited by wildcat; 03-26-2008 at 03:38 AM.

  5. #135
    Senior Member wildcat's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by elfinchilde View Post
    How wonderful!! Something new! i never knew that! love my wildcat! he's wise, and knowledgeable.
    love my elfie, too

    A famous Irish-American actress was also released by ransom.

    The mit-gift was two million dollars to the mob of the Grimaldi.
    A bunch of sea pirates.

    Two million dollars was money in those days.
    A trusted emissary of the Vatican was the go-between.
    He had his share, too.

  6. #136
    a white iris elfinchilde's Avatar
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    ^ and yet another wildcat story. where do you get all these lovely little stories from? If the stork delivers babies, what then delivers baby stories?

    Ah yes. The Grimaldi family. heard of them. Which actress was that, though? hm. wonder how much the emissary made.

    Pirates! *thinks of Johnny Depp*

    You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
    They called me the hyacinth girl.
    Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
    Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
    Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
    Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
    Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

    --T.S Eliot, The Wasteland

  7. #137
    ~dangerous curves ahead~
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    Quote Originally Posted by elfinchilde View Post
    ^ and yet another wildcat story. where do you get all these lovely little stories from? If the stork delivers babies, what then delivers baby stories?

    Ah yes. The Grimaldi family. heard of them. Which actress was that, though? hm. wonder how much the emissary made.

    Pirates! *thinks of Johnny Depp*

    enough to be a holy man for the rest of his life.

  8. #138
    Senior Member wildcat's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by elfinchilde View Post
    ^ and yet another wildcat story. where do you get all these lovely little stories from? If the stork delivers babies, what then delivers baby stories?

    Ah yes. The Grimaldi family. heard of them. Which actress was that, though? hm. wonder how much the emissary made.

    Pirates! *thinks of Johnny Depp*

    The midwife delivers the stories.
    Cos she is old and wise and cos she is a witch.
    Every story is a riddle. A secret garden.
    wildcat cannot open the gate of the garden.

    Who was the actress?
    Price: Bronze.

    Who was the emissary?
    Price: Gold.

    Who paid the ransom?
    Price:

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