so now what?
what are going to do?
well?
you got me up,
you told me what day it is
what time it is
and now here I am,
wondering what it is,
for what reason you beckoned me forth.
you have many times lamented my absence,
if only I was around…
the stories you could tell…
so now here I am,
what do you have for me?
I am enticed,
I'm intrigued,
will it be a tale of romance?
maybe a simple painted moment?
beauty caught in the eye of the beholder?
I can’t stand the suspense…
don’t just sit there…
how could you just sit there
rocking back and forth?
oh wait, I think I have it
I think I'm on to You!
you got me up for no reason
didn’t You?
well not for no reason, but rather
a hopeful one.
you thought you would get me up,
remind me the day
tell me the time
in hopes that maybe, just maybe
I might give you something to say.
well my friend, that is your job
me, I just listen and remember
take stock of the stained moments
you know you won’t.
nothing? ok,
well, get back to me when one of those moments come to pass,
you know the ones where you have something to say,
you know where to find me,
you know I'll always be here
but please don’t get me up
just to stare at me,
that is just annoying.
-2006
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
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YOUTH
Samuel Ullman (1840-1924)
Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind;
it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees;
it is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination,
a vigor of the emotions;
it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.
Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage
over timidity of the appetite, for adventure over the love of ease.
This often exists in a man of sixty more than a boy of twenty.
Nobody grows old merely by a number of years.
We grow old by deserting our ideals.
Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm
wrinkles the soul.
Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart
and turns the spirit back to dust.
Whether sixty or sixteen, there is in every human being's heart
the lure of wonder, the unfailing child-like appetite of what's next,
and the joy of the game of living.
In the center of your heart and my heart there is a wireless station;
so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer,
courage and power from men and from the infinite, so long are you
young.
When the aerials are down,
and your spirit is covered with snows of cynicism
and the ice of pessimism, then you are grown old, even at twenty,
but as long as your aerials are up, to catch the waves of optimism,
there is hope you may die young at eighty.
Cheers,
Doug
http://www.dougalcok.com
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