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I love this poem

CHARLIE DANIELS:

A brief candle; both ends burning
An endless mile; a bus wheel turning
A friend to share the lonesome times
A handshake and a sip of wine
So say it loud and let it ring
We are all a part of everything
The future, present and the past
Fly on proud bird
You're free at last.

written en route to the funeral for his friend, Ronnie Van Zant of the band, Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Love quotes

AMY TAN:
I am like a falling star who has finally found her place next to another in a lovely constellation, where we will sparkle in the heavens forever.

BARBARA DE ANGELIS:
Love and kindness are never wasted. They always make a difference. They bless the one who receives them, and they bless you, the giver.

BARBARA DE ANGELIS:
If you aren't good at loving yourself, you will have a difficult time loving anyone, since you'll resent the time and energy you give another person that you aren't even giving to yourself.

BAYARD TAYLOR:
I love thee, I love but thee
With a love that shall not die
Till the sun grows cold,
And the stars grow old...

HERMANN HESSE:
You know quite well, deep within you, that there is only a single magic, a single power, a single salvation...and that is called loving. Well, then, love your suffering. Do not resist it, do not flee from it. It is your aversion that hurts, nothing else.

INGRID BERGMAN:
A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.

ZORA NEALE HURSTON:
Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.

Tunnels

There's so much more than people see

More than some bother to ask

There's a deeper cave

With tunnels running off

that few would make the steps to walk down

Sometimes the tunnels cave in with rocks put up to shield 

A wall of stones to save the pain of not being understood

I don't even know myself

So how can I expect others to know me?

I don't understand

So how can others? 

There's so much to me

a labyrinth of unknowing

different passages

different facets of this body

this mind

this soul

I need to be strong

To know myself

Every dark abyss

Every wonderous meadow

Why is it so much easier said than done?

Why can't I make the first steps?

Like a foal stumbling after its mother, I fall

Like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, I ignore

Girl

Inside there is a girl

quiet in repose

She does not know her true self

She feels weak and broken in pieces 

How will she find the will to mend?

All she wants is to be happy

To be at peace and be free

To feel the sun on her face

The wind in her hair

The loving look of another's eyes

as they bore into her

and the warm caress of an akin soul

Cherry

Mouth open for the soft tender taste

the juicy redness, dark and sweet.

The feeling of pleasure as the succulent flesh 

slips down the throat in on fell swoop. 

Painting

I want to watch Girl With A Pearl Earring. Sad but beautiful film. 

I want someone to paint me. With passion and intensity like the painter with his wife in How To Make An American Quilt. Except he cheated on her. She was a beauty, long dark hair, scarlett lips. 

I love paintings of a woman's form. Especially the work of Modigliani. My favourite is Red Nude, 1917. 

Thinking of being a life model but you I think it will be a lot harder than I think. You have to sit still for a long long time, make up poses, not mind people discussing your bad bits. 

Today I am feeling romantic but melancholy. 

Feeling and wants

Disney's Robin Hood, Sausage and Mash and the other half of my bottle of red. Sounds like a wonderful evening to me. Hope I can stay awake. 

The air feels heavy in this box that is the office. My head feels tense. 

I look through the door to a grey blue of cold sky.

Everything looks dark and depressing. 

It is not where I want to be. 

I want to be lying in a meadow of long grass on a hot spring day, bluebells and buttercups splashing colour. 

I want the song of birds, the running water of a stream. 

A good book, of poetry to read aloud.

Eric and Em

Larks in Morecombe. Don't Eric and I look grand together? Was bloomin' cold! But oh so lovely to be by the sea

A good book!

At the weekend I read 'Alice Hartley's Happiness' by Philippa Gregory. I recommend it! Providing you find herbal therapy interesting and don't mind some sex. It's all very written very well. It's a sensual, provocative and interesting novel. I found I felt some sort of affinity with the eccentrically clothed, wild haired, voluptous, misunderstood Alice and her affinity with nature. 

She's a middle-aged woman (forty-two) in the prime of her life, her professor husband too caught up playing away with a student than giving his wife the sexual satisfaction she desires. He is tired of her and thinks her mad. She is frustrated with his lack of interest and views of women as inferior. 

She finds a way to escape and sets up a 'Growing Centre' which has garden aerobics, empowerment classes and sexual release sessions... as well as sloe gin baths and sex with a young lover. 

But that is not it all... some people cannot accept a free spirit, especially that of a statuesque beautiful sexual woman. 

All sounds very pleasant to me (minus lack of accepting) 

Broadway by Sara Teasdale

This is the quiet hour, the theaters

   Have gathered in their crowds, and steadily

   The million lights blaze on for few to see,

Robbing the sky of stars that should be hers.

A woman waits with bag and shabby furs,

   A somber man drifts by, and only we

  Pass up the street unwearied, warm and free,

For over us the olden magic stirs.

Beneath the liquid splendor of the lights

   We live a little ere the charm is spent;

This night is ours, of all the golden nights,

       The pavement an enchanted palace floor,

  And Youth the player on the viol, who sent

      A strain of music thru an open door

I got my Poem of New York book!! Will read with my noodle broth in my lunch break which hopefully will be soon 

What I would like to be doing

"A book of verse beneath the bow, a loaf of bread, a jug of wine and thou..."

From the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

Sounds pretty wonderful to me. 

New York! New York! Da da da da da da

I want to go to Broadway! But I want to go in the 50s. I need to watch some musicals and I need to go to New York. Just look!! Pictures not mine but from Flickr. Oh If I went I would be so snap happy. 

I want to be a musical star and sing on broadway! If only I could sing and dance. I like to try interpretative dance!

I really need to find where my book of old poems is to put some up here, or even just to read what my twelve year old self wrote about. Mostly love which is funny seeing as I have never been in love. I have thought I had but realised later, as you do, that it was just infatuation. Being nine, fifteen and eighteen were when I felt 'in love' and probably a few times since but I think I am way more cynical now. A shame really. 

JD

Faster and faster you go 

when you will stop not even you know

Landscape flashes past you

it's beauty only a second upon your eye

The wind lashes through your hair

and through the thin fabric of your shirt

You can feel the wheels burning

against the old tarmac of the road

It fills you with such energy

it's a drink you can't get enough of

To go faster and faster

to feel one of the very best

It's a dream you keep striving for

to be a man you can be proud of

A darkened room

A darkened room of your soul

the door is locked, no entry there

I search for a key but in vain

Oh how I long to open that door

to clean out that room

to open the windows

and bring light into you once more

Can you even remember why you locked that room away? 

Rather than let the pain out, you've kept it in

Festering it has warped your soul 

seeping into all the rooms of you and darkening their door. 

A darkened room of your soul

cold and without life

anguish lingers there and there is no way in or out.

I sit outside it waiting

Waiting for you to let me in

I feed my love for you through the keyhole

Hoping it will pump through to your heart.

Let the light in my love!

You don't need to feel that suffering anymore.

Fling open the curtains and dust the cobwebs away.

Let us dance through that room bringing love into it's walls. 

 

Books galore!

I was very naughty and bought some books despite being pretty broke. So cannot resist a good book though, especially when cheap on amazon! I bought Poems of New York and Love Speaks Its Name from Everyman's Pocket poems. Both sound like really good anthology's. Poems of New York funnily enough is a collection of poems about NY. The jazz clubs, diners, bohemia, broadway and so on and Love Speaks Its Name is a collection of poems about gay and lesbian love. I could become addicted and buy the whole library. There are about ten others I want! 

I also got an amazing book on James Dean with loads of pictures from his families collection. I have wanted it for ages but I couldn't afford it and then there it was on amazon for about a fiver! It arrived today and is beauteous! I am so going to peruse it in my lunch break! I have just started reading a biography on him, only read a page but it looks a lot better than the previous one I owned, Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Paul Alexander. It was basically a good book except the bits which were like an erotic voyeur porno. I would like to know how he knew the sexual habits of James Dean when as far as I am aware no one has really spoken that in depth on them. Anyway this one James Dean The Mutant King by David Dalton will hopefully be much better. 

Musicals and rum tonight! I think High Society and maybe Beauty and The Beast! Lovely. 

Bakewell Tart

I am really having a craving for Bakewell Tart. I had some from when I was last up there but it has not kept at all well so I am going to have to feed it to the birds instead. Sadness. But at least the birds can enjoy it!

One of the best comfort foods ever. I am sure my family has an old recipe somewhere. I will have a look for it tonight and then you can try and make it and see if you like it! For now, here is a bit of  a history. It's good to know you are tasting a bit of history. 

Origins of the Bakewell Tart

Throughout history there have been many different views on how the Bakewell Tart was created, but now everyone has come to a general agreement on the matter.

In 1820 Mrs. Greaves the landlady of the White Horse Inn, (now known as the Rutland Arms), invited friends round for dinner. She was busy entertaining, so gave instructions to her cook directing her to make a pudding.

She told her to mix an egg mixture with a secret ingredient into a pastry case and spread strawberry jam on top. The cook was inexperienced so misunderstood Mrs. Greaves instructions, and poured the egg mixture onto the jam instead, therefore making a tart, not a pudding!

The tart was still served to the guests and as they praised the dish, Mrs Greaves ordered her staff to continue making them that way. They did as she asked and that's how the Bakewell tart was invented. Throughout the years there have been various alterations concerning the type of pastry to be used, but thanks to this the perfect desserts are currently on sale.

Today there's only one place that makes the traditional Bakewell Tart, which is the Bakewell Tart Shop and Coffee House. Whoever has the correct recipe, all are kept in fireproof safes, ensuring the real thing can continue to be made.

taken from The Bakewell Tart Shop website. Very happy they have a website so I can order Bakewell Tarts when I want! 

The World

 All the issues and trials and tribulations of our world make for an interesting if slightly depressing conversation. I would like to learn more about the world.

 To discuss our shortcomings makes us better people because it makes us see what we are, what we do and how we can become better - thinking of others, striving for what we want to do.We should all do something nice for someone every single day, no matter how small the act is - give some money to a homeless person or buy them something to eat, hold the door open for people, offer your seat to a tired looking soul. 

We need to help our earth - the people, animals, plants and elements of it. Otherwise where will we be? The worlds supply of seafood will be no more in 41 years time. That really isn’t very far away is it? 

Carouselling

carousel |ˌkarəˈsel; ˈkarəˌsel| (also carrousel)noun1 a merry-go-round.• a rotating machine or device, in particular a conveyor system at an airport from which arriving passengers collect their luggage.2 historical a tournament in which groups of knights took part in chariot races and other demonstrations of equestrian skills.ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from French carrousel, from Italian carosello.

Oh how I want to go on carousel and fly fly fly. 

Pick a brightly coloured horse with a name like Fifi or Mabel

Say hello and join her for a ride through the sky

A dizzy daydream of fairytales and fables

I feel like a child again - happy and carefree

If only I could stay on forever and ride out to sea

(a poem by me)