Friday, December 12, 2008
It Ain't Me ~ Bob Dylan
Go 'way from my window,
Leave at your own chosen speed.
I'm not the one you want, babe,
I'm not the one you need.
You say you're lookin' for someone
Never weak but always strong,
To protect you an' defend you
Whether you are right or wrong,
Someone to open each and every door,
But it ain't me, babe,
No, no, no, it ain't me, babe,
It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.
Go lightly from the ledge, babe,
Go lightly on the ground.
I'm not the one you want, babe,
I will only let you down.
You say you're lookin' for someone
Who will promise never to part,
Someone to close his eyes for you,
Someone to close his heart,
Someone who will die for you an' more,
But it ain't me, babe,
No, no, no, it ain't me, babe,
It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.
Go melt back into the night, babe,
Everything inside is made of stone.
There's nothing in here moving
An' anyway I'm not alone.
You say you're looking for someone
Who'll pick you up each time you fall,
To gather flowers constantly
An' to come each time you call,
A lover for your life an' nothing more,
But it ain't me, babe,
No, no, no, it ain't me, babe,
It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
There are others, who make the same mistakes, but have to keep talking about it and through it.
I'm the latter.
I wonder if that makes me any wiser, any stronger, any truer.
Dear Lord, I want truth.
Truth that is so real it consumes.
I remember daddy telling me that he told God, that if there ever comes a day when he is not convicted by the person of Christ. He's leaving the faith. Trust me to take after the blood that flows through my veins.
It's a delicate skill. Like picking up egg yolk, and removing it from the white - without creating a mess.
This isn't about what you think it is.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
I do remember why I left the stage. I found a deeper passion in the silent darkness of the soundroom then I did in the estatic flare of the parcans and fresnels. But sometimes, it's not enough to have your expression carried through another and I sometimes feel like the notes were snatched from my mouth just as they were budding on my tongue.
All this stupid stress, and all I want to do is create flowers with my hands, and paint them with my lips.
... and, thanks for this photo.
Ah we're lonely, we're romantic
and the cider's laced with acid
and the Holy Spirit's crying, "Where's the beef?"
And the moon is swimming naked
and the summer night is fragrant
with a mighty expectation of relief
So we struggle and we stagger
down the snakes and up the ladder
to the tower where the blessed hours chime
and I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
the Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since
but closing time
The whole damn place goes crazy twice
and it's once for the devil and once for Christ
but the Boss don't like these dizzy heights
we're busted in the blinding lights,
busted in the blinding lights
of closing time
~L. Cohen :: Closing time
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
And she wants to travel with you
And she want to travel blind
And she knows that she can trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.
But I do giggle tenderly at the secret lunges that loved ones make for me, as if to catch me as I dance barefoot along the razor rocks sharpened by the sea. But they forget that this is my element, and that I have wings. And even so, if I do falter and hurt myself eventually, there is always grace.
So, let me love you, because this is what I'm here for.
And even if you don't, I already have.
Now that doesn't mean that I'm all up for Female Circumcision/FGC (I hesitate to use the term FGM because I think it is a biased account on the situation), or stoning or other terrible terrible things that happen. But lets not get extreme here, in either direction. Recognize an inadequate stop gap measure as an inadequate stop gap measure. Acknowledge its propensity to wreck other forms of violence upon the community.
I've grown to believe that in the light of genocide and torture, cultural integrity should give way. But I am frequently reminded that there were moments when I didn't think this way - because to some people, there are somet hings worth dying for and I should not be speaking for them. Yes, to some people, life isn't the ultimate gift, but rather, is but a means for something other.
But anyway, I'm just cautioning against one-dimensional blanket approaches toward 'Human Rights' issues - blankets suffocate. And while I am not about to be indignantly waving around a piece of text that has supposed to reach some nebulous idea of Jus Cogen, I would be quick to moarn death and pain - indescriminately; becuase life does not discriminate. A bullet in one's head isn't text, and neither is hunger.
So here we are, with our limitations, our biases, fears and hidden agendas. Some glaring and some hidden even to our secret hearts. We want to see goodness realized, but not just any goodness - it has to be OUR goodness. So lets take our crude, hand-hewn tools and go forward humbly, knowing that in our weakness, we still sow evil in our attempts to heal. Maybe that way we can turn to each other for forgiveness.
And my very sweet companion
she's the Angel of Compassion
she's rubbing half the world against her thigh
And every drinker every dancer
lifts a happy face to thank her
the fiddler fiddles something so sublime
I loved you for your beauty
but that doesn't make a fool of me:
you were in it for your beauty too
and I loved you for your body
there's a voice that sounds like God to me
declaring, declaring, declaring that your body's really you
And I loved you when our love was blessed
and I love you now there's nothing left
but sorrow and a sense of overtime
and I missed you since the place got wrecked
And I just don't care what happens next
looks like freedom but it feels like death
it's something in between, I guess
it's closing time
and it's partner found, it's partner lost
and it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops:
it's closing time
Yeah I missed you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
looks like freedom but it feels like death
it's something in between, I guess
It's closing time
Monday, December 08, 2008
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First Name: Hannah
Last Name: Lim
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Date of Incident: 12-07-2008
Time of Incident: 3:30p
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