Topic: !*! The Love, Peace & Ganja Global Gathering !*! | |
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have a great evening everyone
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soo good to be home... |
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Edited by
KayaksJuliet
on
Thu 03/19/09 08:40 AM
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Morning all! |
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Edited by
Rapunzel
on
Thu 03/19/09 03:52 PM
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http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=7184596 this is a cover version ....but a pretty good one i like the very interesting different beginning but there is a lot of backround sound this must be the place by the talking heads Home is where I want to be Pick me up and turn me round I feel numb - born with a weak heart I guess I must be having fun The less we say about it the better Make it up as we go along Feet on the ground Head in the sky It's ok I know nothing's wrong . . nothing Hi yo I got plenty of time Hi yo you got light in your eyes And you're standing here beside me I love the passing of time Never for money Always for love Cover up and say goodnight . . . say goodnight Home - is where I want to be But I guess I'm already there I come home - she lifted up her wings Guess that this must be the place I can't tell one from another Did I find you, or you find me? There was a time Before we were born If someone asks, this is where I'll be . . . where I'll be Hi yo We drift in and out Hi yo sing into my mouth Out of all those kinds of people You got a face with a view I'm just an animal looking for a home Share the same space for a minute or two And you love me till my heart stops Love me till I'm dead Eyes that light up, eyes look through you Cover up the blank spots Hit me on the head Ah ooh |
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isn't this pretty !!! Sweet!!! |
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Edited by
NtheWind
on
Fri 03/20/09 07:52 AM
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Morning all! BEAUTIFUL PUT!!! |
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Edited by
Rapunzel
on
Fri 03/20/09 09:28 AM
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{{{ <<< Good Morning My Sweet Loves >>> }}} |
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Edited by
Rapunzel
on
Fri 03/20/09 09:26 AM
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Edited by
KayaksJuliet
on
Fri 03/20/09 09:59 AM
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Happy Thursday Everyone! Just had to share one of my favorite writers.
An awesome writer: Kahil Gibran: And a poet said, "Speak to us of Beauty." Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech? The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle. Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us." And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread. Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us." The tired and the weary say, "beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit. Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow." But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains, And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions." At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east." And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, "we have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset." In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills." And in the summer heat the reapers say, "We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair." All these things have you said of beauty. Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied, And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy. It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth, But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted. It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear, But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears. It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw, But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight. People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face. But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are eternity and your are the mirror. |
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Now you are really talking my Language Karen
I have loved Kahlil Gibran since i was a young girl and his words have been etched on the walls of my heart |
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Edited by
Rapunzel
on
Fri 03/20/09 10:31 AM
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i have the entire book the Prophet saved in my Favorites... you can access the whole book for free online http://theprophet.blogsome.com/category/chapter-1-introduction/ Almustafa, the chosen and the beloved, who was a dawn onto his own day, had waited twelve years in the city of Orphalese for his ship that was to return and bear him back to the isle of his birth. And in the twelfth year, on the seventh day of Ielool, the month of reaping, he climbed the hill without the city walls and looked seaward; and he beheld the ship coming with the mist. Then the gates of his heart were flung open, and his joy flew far over the sea. And he closed his eyes and prayed in the silences of his soul. But he descended the hill, a sadness came upon him, and he thought in his heart: How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city. Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret? Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache. It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands. Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst. Yet I cannot tarry longer. The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I must embark. For to stay, though the hours burn in the night, is to freeze and crystallize and be bound in a mould. Fain would I take with me all that is here. But how shall I? A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that give it wings. Alone must it seek the ether. And alone and without his nest shall the eagle fly across the sun. Now when he reached the foot of the hill, he turned again towards the sea, and he saw his ship approaching the harbour, and upon her prow the mariners, the men of his own land. And his soul cried out to them, and he said: Sons of my ancient mother, you riders of the tides, How often have you sailed in my dreams. And now you come in my awakening, which is my deeper dream. Ready am I to go, and my eagerness with sails full set awaits the wind. Only another breath will I breathe in this still air, only another loving look cast backward, Then I shall stand among you, a seafarer among seafarers. And you, vast sea, sleepless mother, Who alone are peace and freedom to the river and the stream, Only another winding will this stream make, only another murmur in this glade, And then shall I come to you, a boundless drop to a boundless ocean. And as he walked he saw from afar men and women leaving their fields and their vineyards and hastening towards the city gates. And he heard their voices calling his name, and shouting from the field to field telling one another of the coming of the ship. And he said to himself: Shall the day of parting be the day of gathering? And shall it be said that my eve was in truth my dawn? And what shall I give unto him who has left his plough in midfurrow, or to him who has stopped the wheel of his winepress? Shall my heart become a tree heavy-laden with fruit that I may gather and give unto them? And shall my desires flow like a fountain that I may fill their cups? Am I a harp that the hand of the mighty may touch me, or a flute that his breath may pass through me? A seeker of silences am I, and what treasure have I found in silences that I may dispense with confidence? If this is my day of harvest, in what fields have I sowed the seed, and in what unrembered seasons? If this indeed be the our in which I lift up my lantern, it is not my flame that shall burn therein. Empty and dark shall I raise my lantern, And the guardian of the night shall fill it with oil and he shall light it also. These things he said in words. But much in his heart remained unsaid. For he himself could not speak his deeper secret. And when he entered into the city all the people came to meet him, and they were crying out to him as with one voice. And the elders of the city stood forth and said: Go not yet away from us. A noontide have you been in our twilight, and your youth has given us dreams to dream. No stranger are you among us, nor a guest, but our son and our dearly beloved. Suffer not yet our eyes to hunger for your face. And the priests and the priestesses said unto him: Let not the waves of the sea separate us now, and the years you have spent in our midst become a memory. You have walked among us a spirit, and your shadow has been a light upon our faces. Much have we loved you. But speechless was our love, and with veils has it been veiled. Yet now it cries aloud unto you, and would stand revealed before you. And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation. And others came also and entreated him. But he answered them not. He only bent his head; and those who stood near saw his tears falling upon his breast. And he and the people proceeded towards the great square before the temple. And there came out of the sanctuary a woman whose name was Almitra. And she was a seeress. And he looked upon her with exceeding tenderness, for it was she who had first sought and believed in him when he had been but a day in their city. And she hailed him, saying: Prophet of God, in quest for the uttermost, long have you searched the distances for your ship. And now your ship has come, and you must needs go. Deep is your longing for the land of your memories and the dwelling place of your greater desires; and our love would not bind you nor our needs hold you. Yet this we ask ere you leave us, that you speak to us and give us of your truth. And we will give it unto our children, and they unto their children, and it shall not perish. In your aloneness you have watched with our days, and in your wakefulness you have listened to the weeping and the laughter of our sleep. Now therefore disclose us to ourselves, and tell us all that has been shown you of that which is between birth and death. And he answered, People of Orphalese, of what can I speak save of that which is even now moving your souls? and this is such a fitting time to enter these passages... for it is coming to be the time when my own ship is nearing its port |
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Edited by
Rapunzel
on
Fri 03/20/09 11:40 AM
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Pepe Le Pew: Really Scent! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpNRs7RjgVc&feature=related |
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A little something I slapped together of others work . LOVE LOVE Photo Editing!
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hi Karen How are you and Doug ?
,,,you did this? you slapped it together? what ? hardly slapped together that's soo beautiful & means so much to me the Metamorphosis of the Butterfly for my name means Butterfly in Greek and Star in Hebrew |
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Edited by
KayaksJuliet
on
Sun 03/22/09 12:45 PM
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Awww thank you Vanessa! Glad you like it! "slapped together"..I just took a pic off photobucket, added a star and the beautiful saying. Most of the wonderful work was done by others (Pic & Saying).
Doug and I are doing wonderfully Thanks for asking If you have any pics you want to add something to just let me know in private message and I will see what I can do. |
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Awww thank you Vanessa! Glad you like it! "slapped together"..I just took a pic off photobucket, added a star and the beautiful saying. Most of the wonderful work was done by others (Pic & Saying). If you have any pics you want to add something to just let me know in private message and I will see what I can do. Thank you Karen..You are so very kind & so smart too I wish we were closer, we could go shopping for great finds in cute little stores nestled in little quaint country towns & it would be soo much fun to partake with you & Kayak and to see how giant black lab Budda Dawgie and your little chihuahua get along that must be an absolute riot I like the name you have chosen for yourself here & to think that i helped inspire it , is special too |
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