The long distance kiss.


Repost from 2007

She blew him a kissIt was shaped like her lipsHe caught it with prideFor it had made quite a trip.

Over the citiesAnd the great sea.A wondrous voyageIt had turned out to be.

So once it arrivedIt was placed with great careOn the forehead belongingTo a most royal heir.

He smiled as he felt itRush through his veins.This kiss that brought with itThe cure for his pains.

 

Copyright ©2007 Veronica Romm

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We Are Seven


This has been one of my favorite poems since I was quite young.

WE ARE SEVEN   by William Wordsworth 1798-A SIMPLE Child, That lightly draws its breath

And feels its life in every limb,

What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:

She was eight years old, she said;

Her hair was thick with many a curl

That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,

And she was wildly clad:                                    

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;

–Her beauty made me glad.

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,

How many may you be?”

“How many? Seven in all,” she said

And wondering looked at me.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”

She answered, “Seven are we;

And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.                                    

“Two of us in the church-yard lie,

My sister and my brother;

And, in the church-yard cottage, I

Dwell near them with my mother.”

“You say that two at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven!–I pray you tell,

Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

Then did the little Maid reply,

“Seven boys and girls are we;                               

Two of us in the church-yard lie,

Beneath the church-yard tree.”

“You run about, my little Maid,

Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the church-yard laid,

Then ye are only five.”

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”

The little Maid replied,

“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,

And they are side by side.                                  

“My stockings there I often knit,

My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit,

And sing a song to them.

“And often after sunset, Sir,

When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there.

“The first that died was sister Jane;

In bed she moaning lay,                                     

Till God released her of her pain;

And then she went away.

“So in the church-yard she was laid;

And, when the grass was dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.

“And when the ground was white with snow,

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side.”                                   

“How many are you, then,” said I,

“If they two are in heaven?”

Quick was the little Maid’s reply,

“O Master! we are seven.”

“But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in heaven!”

‘Twas throwing words away; for still

The little Maid would have her will,

And said, “Nay, we are seven!”

1798.

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Artists on Art


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This is a compilation of views from some of the greatest artists on art itself. They not only created beautiful masterpieces, but tried to understand their role in the process. Their views vary, some are spiritual about their work, others are ambivalent, and others are emotional. The common thread is that living life and art are vital to the artist. How ironic that most great artists lived their life so recklessly and never seemed to enjoy it at all.

“My role in society, or any artist or poet’s role is to try and express what we all feel. Not to tell people how to feel. Not as a preacher, not as a leader, but as a reflection of us all.”
-John Lennon, Interview, KFRC RKO Radio, given the day of his death. December 8, 1980

“Principles for the Development of a Complete Mind: Study the science of art. Study the art of science. Develop your senses – especially learn how to see. Realize that everything connects to everything else.”
-Leonardo DaVinci

“We work in the dark, we do what we can, we give what we have, our doubt is our passion, and our passion is our task, the rest is the madness of art.”
-Henry James

“Some painters transform the sun into a yellow spot; others transform a yellow spot into the sun.”
-Pablo Picasso

“All that I desire to point out is the general principle that Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life.”
-Oscar Wilde, The Decay of Living, 1891

“The artist is a receptacle for the emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider’s web.”
-Pablo Picasso

“To the artist there is never anything ugly in nature.”
-Auguste Rodin

These quotes found at http://www.quoteland.com/

Are there any quotes that you would like to share and add to this list? Please leave in comment and I will credit you for your input. 

 Tim Kissane contributed this one to the list.  Thank you. V

You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it.”
– Robin Williams

http://romi41.wordpress.com/ contributed Thanks Romi, always something great to add.  V

Where the world ceases to be the scene of our personal hopes and wishes, where we face it as free beings admiring, asking and observing, there we enter the realm of Art and Science”–Albert Einstein

dontdatethatdude contributed these great quotes, thank you for taking the time.

Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.

Be the change you want to see in the world.” both from Gandhi

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A relationship grows on Twitter.


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Time for an update: Feb. 20. 2016

Yes these two bicoastal friends found their way to each other. Surprising both they fell in love. They spent 5 glorious, confusing and intense months together. Then came truth. The truth always comes out. We had hope for these lovers but as most things in life all was not revealed feelings got hurt and painful jabs exchanged. The friendship was perhaps the most wounded casualty in their story. She felt decieved he felt…well I’m really not sure. They lost each other and the experiment failed. Trust destroyed, who knows what life has in store? One thing we know,she is gone and he must accept that. Sad ending indeed.

——————–
She:
When you think about it/me what do you imagine? What’s the best case scenario? Be honest please. The more honest the better.

He:
Best case… we fall in love and have kids and live happily ever after. That’s the absolute best.

————————————————————————————-

This very simple text exchange transpired yesterday. It’s pretty darn cute right, romantic even? These two excited people have known each other for close to three years. They met on twitter and there were certain topics that they are both passionate about that brought them into each others twittersphere (gun control) was a big one.

So as it goes they eventually DMd and that went well so they exchanged real life phone numbers. Skype followed after over a year. No they are NOT catfish they skype and send pics all the time.

These two live on opposite coasts. One, a real California guy through and through. The other a hard core east coast chick. Life has now created a circumstance where he is about to move to the east coast. In about 2-4months she and he will finally meet face to face.

They are such great friends and have been extremely patient in lieu of their previous circumstances. Now they are thrilled, nervous, excited, waiting for what lie ahead for them. There are no promises being made or expectations beyond meeting face to face. The friendship is strong enough to survive if the relationship does not end in the happily ever after. I wish these two all the luck in the world because they both deserve it. In terms of a relationship born on social media, these two did it really well and it’s truly authentic.

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Out of Context


 

This image created by tornglass a very talented photog and photoshop pro.

It is amazing to see my words out of context as such.  I know which poem each phrase or word comes from, yet like this the meanings get shuffled and become meaningful on their own.  It is also fascinating to read the words that were chosen by another, and created into a piece of art.  I can ponder the reason for each choice, or like with poetry leave the meaning to the interpreter.  Either way, it reminds me of the style used by William S. Burroughs the cut-up technique in his book Naked Lunch and others.

 

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