people were surprised at my behaviour. I looked at no one, I failed to reply, I did not understand what was said to me: my old friends considered me touched by madness.

0 0 littlebopeepnurs00broo_0029 “The Little Boy and the Old Man Said the little boy, “Sometimes I drop my spoon.” Said the old man, “I do that too.” The little boy whispered, “I wet my pants.” I do that too,” laughed the little old man. Said the little boy, “I often cry.” The old man nodded, “So do I.” But worst of all,” said the boy, “it seems Grown-ups don’t pay attention to me.” And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand. I know what you mean,” said the little old man.” ― Shel Silverstein

Don’t put the cart before the horse.

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What a road the Cold Mountain road!

Not a sign of horse or cart.

Winding gorges, tricky to trace.

Massive cliffs, who knows how high?

Where the thousand grasses drip with dew,

Where the pine trees hum in the wind.

Now the path’s lost, now it’s time

For body to ask shadow: ‘Which way home?’

Words from Cold Mountain

Han-shan

“I know what I’m capable of; I am a soldier now, a warrior. I am someone to fear, not hunt.” ― Pittacus Lore, The Rise of Nine

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I’m afraid of a kiss

Like the kiss of a bee.

I suffer like this

And wake endlessly.

I’m afraid of a kiss!

http://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/French/SelectedFrenchPoemsoftheNineteenthCentury.htm

A woman often walked In the garden all alone And when I passed along the linden-bordered road We almost talked.

Guillaume Apollinaire (1880-1918)

Annie

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Japanese poem by Lady Koshikibu from Ogura 100 poems (early 13th century)

大江山 いく野の道の 遠ければ まだふみもみず 天の橋立

“By Oe Mountain / The road to Ikuno is far away, / And neither have I beheld / Nor crossed its bridge of heaven. .” 

The skeletons in my closet carouse and party all night, When one opens the door to pee, gee, I get such a fright.

Smartass Rabbi

Feb 23

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No matter that my heart sinks,
sighs, with the weight of skeletons-

paths I forgot to follow
have slowly sealed

rooms go unrecognised
for fear of change

and I cry at the uncertainty of rainbows.

All the daydreams I stole,
refusing to give them back

are stored as silver dust
and each day is a small breath.

There are two kinds of compassion: compassion mixed with clinging, and compassion mixed with prajna – best knowledge.

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“The spirit of Ubuntu* – that profound African sense that we are human beings only through the humanity of other human beings – is not a parochial phenomenon, but has added globally to our common search for a better world.”

South African anti-apartheid activist and President Nelson Mandela

*Note: Ubuntu is an ancient African concept meaning “kindness towards human beings” or “humanity to others” or “I am what I am because of who we all are”.

http://www.rogerdarlington.co.uk/Thoughts.html