Words are not just words
they are kisses
on the lips of silence
that speak of your essence
~Vesna~

Monday, March 28, 2011

JJ Cale



'JJ Cale (also J.J. Cale), born John Weldon Cale on December 5, 1938, in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, is a Grammy Award-winning American singer-songwriter and musician. Cale is one of the originators of the Tulsa Sound, a loose genre drawing on blues, rockabilly, country, and jazz influences. Cale's personal style has often been described as "laid back". '


'Rock & roll is an unforgiving profession. We eat our young, disregard the old and always want more of everything. Aging gracefully while remaining relevant in the rock game is the hardest trick of all, and JJ Cale might be doing it better than anyone.'

JJ Cale's website

Layers

Peeling
Layers

Under
Pretty
Beautiful

Under
Scared
Curious

Peeling
Layers


Vesna
[2010]

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Spring



Happy 326th Birthday J.S. Bach (21.3.1685)




Spring


Breath
Feel the air
Giving you a lift
It's a gift


Allow your lips
to dance
a tiny smile
Let it stay for a while


So many things
So hard
So sad
Yet one thing
Happy, Spring


Vesna
20/3/2011

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Ode to Hope






Akira Murata - wonderful artist from KORIYAMA city..FUKUSHIMA JAPAN

In November 2010 we have exchanged few words. This is what he wrote:

'my city….KORIYAMAcity..FUKUSHIMA JAPAN



very very beautiful area


Lake and river. forest. mountain. and, the sea.


little bit located in the north ..maybe it snows soon'



Dear Akira, I hope with all my heart you are safe...


Ode to Hope


Oceanic dawn
at the center
of my life,
waves like grapes,
the sky's solitude,
you fill me
and flood
the complete sea,
the undiminished sky,
tempo
and space,
seafoam's
white batallions,
the orange earth,
the sun's
fiery waist
in agony,
so many gifts and talents,
birds soaring into their dreams,
and the sea, the sea,
suspended
aroma,
chorus of rich, resonant salt,
and meanwhile,
we men,
touch the water,
struggling
and hoping,
we touch the sea,
hoping.
And the waves tell the firm coast,
"Everything will be fulfilled."




Pablo Neruda



It's a small world, when it trembles somewhere we all shake. I wish I could bring calm to it.
Thanks for visiting this space, I hope you are well. My thoughts are with Japanese people.
Hugs,
Vesna

Monday, March 7, 2011

Somewhere beautiful



Esperanza Spalding-Wild is the Wind
Amazing version of a beautiful song...

Makes me speachless, hope you'll like it too




Somewhere beautiful


I think of
this
beautiful place
where
the distance
between us
is zero
and the possibilities are
endless.
Let’s travel there
even if it takes
forever.


Vesna
[2010]

Thursday, March 3, 2011

The Listeners by Walter de la Mare

The Listeners

‘IS there anybody there?’ said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champ’d the grasses
Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveller’s head:
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Lean’d over and look’d into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplex’d and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirr’d and shaken
By the lonely Traveller’s call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
’Neath the starr’d and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:—
’Tell them I came, and no one answer’d,
’That I kept my word,’ he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

Walter de la Mare
(25 April 1873 – 22 June 1956)
was an English poet, short story writer and novelist, probably best remembered for his works for children and "The Listeners".



Thank you Bruce for introducing me to this poem and for walking into this blog.