Tuesday, July 31, 2007

The Evolution Of Love

I found this the other day and I thought it was very well-put:

"In an age where so much of life is based on feelings, it seems that we've begun to lose the true essence of what love means. Once love meant a decision; when you loved someone you loved them forever. Today however, the overwhelming feelings of emotion dictate our decision to "love". But, on the other hand, if the fascinating affection we once felt begins to die we determine that we no longer "love" that person, and then. most sadly, we often give up and walk away. Love has evolved."
-Joel Smallbone
Seize The Day!
-StrongJoy

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

"Seize The Day"- The Song That Inspires Me EVERY Time...

I know a girl who was schooled in Manhattan,
She reads dusty books and learns phrases in Latin.
She is as author or maybe a poet-
A genius, it's just that this world doesn't know it!
She works on a novel most every day-
If you laugh she will say...

Chorus:
Seize the day!
Seize whatever you can,
For life slips away
Just like hourglass sand
Seize the day,
Pray...
For Grace from God's hand,
And nothing will stand in your way-
Seize the day!

One thing I've noticed wherever I wander:
Everyone's got a dream he can follow or squander.
You can do what you will with the days you are given-
I'm trying to spend mine on the business of living!
So I'm singing my songs off of any old stage,
You can laugh if you want- I'll still say...

Chorus:
Seize the day!
Seize whatever you can,
For life slips away
Just like hourglass sand
Seize the day,
Pray...
For Grace from God's hand,
And nothing will stand in your way-
Seize the day!
-Carolyn Arends (From "Seize The Day")

Seize The Day!

-StrongJoy

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

What We See...

"To hear an oriole sing
May be a common thing,
Or only a divine.

It is not of the bird,
Who sings the same, unheard,
As unto crowd.

The fashion of the ear
Attireth that it hear
In dun or fair.

So whether it be rune,
Or whether it be none,
Is of within.

The “tune is in the tree”
The skeptic showeth thee
'No sir! In thee!'"
-Emily Dickinson


To make a comment on that lovely observation written by one of my favorite poets, I can only say that "What we see, depends mainly on what we are looking for." -Sir John Lubbock
Seize The Day!
-StrongJoy

Monday, July 23, 2007

The Question Of Value

People through the ages have struggled over the answer to the question, "How do you measure the worth of a man?" I've always believed that the answer to that question had something to do with Love but I wasn't sure how to explain that. I wrote this poem two months ago in frustration over my inability to express how I felt about this subject. When I had finished it, I realized that I had answered my own question: Yes, I believe that the Question of Value IS answered by Love but not by human Love. (See "Idols" - One Of The Best Poems Written In The English Language for a description of human Love.) I believe that the Love of our Creator is what gives us our value. If we are loved by the only One who matters, isn't that enough to give us all the value we could ever care to have?

How do you measure value?
What do you measure it by?
Is value measured by who we are-
We, the Hurt Ones, crushed and scarred,
Far from the light- so far, so far,
All of us reaching for the stars,
Under an empty sky?

How do you measure value?
What do you measure it by?
Is value measured by what we possess-
Years of struggle against weakness,
Groping for diamonds in cold darkness,
To find that somehow we still have less
And somehow we can’t even cry.

Last night as I prayed for the answer
And chased away Hope I had banned,
Someone spoke to me in the night,
A Voice whispered “Can’t you find My Light?
Well, I’ll always love you so it’s alright.”
Look! - Starlight in my hand!
-B.J.J. aka StrongJoy
Seize The Day!
-StrongJoy

Sunday, July 22, 2007

"Idols" - One Of The Best Poems Written In The English Language

“Idols”
How weak the gods of this world are-
And weaker their worship made me!
For I have been an idolater of three-
And three times they betrayed me.

Mine oldest worshipping was given
To natural Beauty, ay, residing
In bowery earth and starry heaven,
In ebbing sea and river gliding.

But natural Beauty shuts her bosom
To what the natural feelings tell!
Albeit I sighed, the trees would blossom-
Albeit I smiled the blossoms fell.

Then left I earthly sights to wander
Amid a grove of name divine,
Where bay-reflecting streams meander
And Moloch Fame hath reared a shrine.

Not green but black is that reflection;
On rocky beds those waters lie;
That grove hath chillness and dejection-
How could I sing? I had to sigh.

Last, human Love, thy Lares greeting,
To rest and warmth I vowed my years
To rest? How wild my pulse is beating!
To warmth? Ah, me! My burning tears!

Aye, they may burn-though thou be frozen
By death and changes wintering on
Fame!- Beauty!- idols madly chosen-
Were yet of gold; but thou art STONE!

Crumble like stone! My voice no longer
Shall wail their names who silent be:
There is a voice that soundeth stronger-
“My daughter, give thine heart to Me.

Lord! Take mine heart! O first and fairest
Whom all creation’s ends shall hear;
Who deathless love in death declarest!
Non else is beauteous-famous-dear!
-Elizabeth Barret Browning

Seize The Day!
-StrongJoy

Thursday, July 19, 2007

"Transients In Arcadia" (About Ordinary People)

I’ve had a respect for O. Henry ever since I read “The Ransom Of Red Chief” which has got to be the absolute funniest story of all time. When I read “The Last Leaf,” I decided that I had found an author worth checking into. (By the way, those of you who have not read “The Last Leaf” are missing out on one of the most gripping, skillfully written short stories written in the English language.) I bought a little book of his short stories about two years ago read it from cover to cover. Then I put it back on my shelf. Yesterday, for no reason at all, I took it down again and opened it up right to “Transients In Arcadia,” one story I didn’t remember very well. I didn’t plan on reading it but somehow I couldn’t tear myself away from that story. It was quite a simple little tale – there was no complex plot and not much action, to be sure, but somehow I found myself very wrapped up in it.

O. Henry begins the story by describing the dream hotel Lotus in a very idyllic way (with just a very little measure of sarcasm). He then goes on to praise a mysterious “Madame Beaumont,” the Lotus’ most illustrious guest.

“Now, isn’t that a wonderful beginning?”
“Yeah, it’s really great.” -The Princess Bride


This description continues for quite some time – long enough to give the reader a sort of respect for the afore-mentioned Madame Beaumont. Then, this magnificent “perfect woman” meets Mr. Harold Farrington, a seemingly respectable gentleman, and the two form a cordial relationship. Everything seems perfectly settled at this point and most readers would suppose that they were reading a “happily-ever-after” romance. However, the day before Madame Beaumont leaves the hotel, she tells Mr. Farrington a secret that changes the course of the story. I can’t tell you what the secret is because then you might not read the story for yourself, but I can assure you that O. Henry always lives up to his name, “The Master Of Surprise.”

I like this story because it reminds me of the real meaning of the phrase “ordinary people” but furthermore, because it reminds me that there are no ordinary people…and we all have hopes and dreams and ambitions - hurts and sorrows and tragedies.

Seize The Day!
-StrongJoy

Sunday, July 15, 2007

"It's The Thing You Leave Undone..."

"You smile upon your friend to-day,
To-day his ills are over;
You hearken to the lover's say,
And happy is the lover.

'Tis late to hearken, late to smile,
But better late than never;
I shall have lived a little while
Before I die for ever."
-A.E. Housman


(Alfred Edward Housman is hardly my favorite poet - he is a little too sarcastic and pessimistic for me - but I do enjoy some of his works and this is one of them.)

Often I don't notice until too late that someone has been wanting something from me - just a smile sometimes, I suppose. I always wish that I could have the moment back in order to give them what they were hoping for but when it's gone, it's gone. The only thing I can do then is to determine that I WON'T miss the next moment. That isn't good enough to make up for lost time, of course, but "better late than never" for there is certainly no sense in losing more time when I can seize the rest of the day!
Seize The Day!
-StrongJoy

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Let Us Not Forget...

Painting: "Gather The Rosebuds While Ye May" By William Waterhouse


"GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying :
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying..."
-By Robert Herrick

Friday, June 1, 2007

Ronald Reagan Quotes

"Here's my strategy on the Cold War: We win, they lose."
- Ronald Reagan

"The most terrifying words in the English language are: I'm from the government and I'm here to help."
- Ronald Reagan

"The trouble with our liberal friends is not that they're ignorant: It's just that they know so much that isn't so."
- Ronald Reagan

"Of the four wars in my lifetime none came about because the U. S. was too strong."
- Ronald Reagan

"I have wondered at times about what the Ten Commandment's would have looked like if Moses had run them through the U. S. Congress."
- Ronald Reagan

"The taxpayer: That's someone who works for the federal government but doesn't have to take the civil service examination."
- Ronald Reagan

"If we ever forget that we're one nation under God, then we will be one nation gone under."
- Ronald Reagan

"The nearest thing to eternal life we will ever see on this earth is a government program."
- Ronald Reagan

"I've laid down the law, though, to everyone from now on about anything that happens: no matter what time it is, wake me, even if it's in the middle of a Cabinet meeting."
- Ronald Reagan

"It has been said that politics is the second oldest profession. I have learned that it bears a striking resemblance to the first."
- Ronald Reagan

"Government's view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it."
- Ronald Reagan

"Politics is not a bad profession. If you succeed there are many rewards, if you disgrace yourself you can always write a book."
- Ronald Reagan

"No arsenal, or no weapon in the arsenals of the world, is so formidable as the will and moral courage of free men and women."
- Ronald Reagan

Friday, August 25, 2006

Edgar Allan Poe Poetry

A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM
"Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow:
You are not wrong who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?"
- Edgar Allan Poe


EL DORADO
Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.

But he grew old,
This knight so bold,
And o'er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.

And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow;
"Shadow," said he,
"Where can it be,
This land of Eldorado?"

"Over the mountains
Of the moon,
Down the valley of the shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,"
The shade replied,--
"If you seek for Eldorado!"
- Edgar Allan Poe

Robert Frost Poetry

BOND AND FREE
"Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about—
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Thought has need of no such things,
For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.

On snow and sand and turf, I see
Where Love has left a printed trace
With straining in the world’s embrace.
And such is Love and glad to be.
But Thought has shaken his ankles free.

Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom
And sits in Sirius’ disc all night,
Till day makes him retrace his flight,
With smell of burning on every plume,
Back past the sun to an earthly room.

His gains in heaven are what they are.
Yet some say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses all
In several beauty that Thought fares far
To find fused in another star."
-Robert Frost


THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And, sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."
-Robert Frost


STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING
"Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake."

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
-Robert Frost


FIRE AND ICE
"Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice."
-Robert Frost


GOD'S GARDEN
"God made a beatous garden
With lovely flowers strown,
But one straight, narrow pathway
That was not overgrown.
And to this beauteous garden
He brought mankind to live,
And said: 'To you, my children,
These lovely flowers I give.
Prune ye my vines and fig trees,
With care my flowerets tend,
But keep the pathway open
Your home is at the end.'

Then came another master,
Who did not love mankind,
And planted on the pathway
Gold flowers for them to find.
And mankind saw the bright flowers,
That, glitt'ring in the sun,
Quite hid the thorns of av'rice
That poison blood and bone;
And far off many wandered,
And when life's night came on,
They still were seeking gold flowers,
Lost, helpless and alone.

O, cease to heed the glamour
That blinds your foolish eyes,
Look upward to the glitter
Of stars in God's clear skies.
Their ways are pure and harmless
And will not lead astray,
Bid aid your erring footsteps
To keep the narrow way.
And when the sun shines brightly
Tend flowers that God has given
And keep the pathway open
That leads you on to heaven."
-Robert Frost


INTO MY OWN
"One of my wishes is that those dark trees,
So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto the edge of doom.

I should not be withheld but that some day
into their vastness I should steal away,
Fearless of ever finding open land,
or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.

I do not see why I should e'er turn back,
Or those should not set forth upon my track
To overtake me, who should miss me here
And long to know if still I held them dear.

They would not find me changed from him they
knew--Only more sure of all I thought was true."
-Robert Frost


RELUCTANCE
"Out through the fields and the woods
And over the walls I have wended;
I have climbed the hills of view
And looked at the world, and descended;
I have come by the highway home,
And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,
Save those that the oak is keeping
To ravel them one by one
And let them go scraping and creeping
Out over the crusted snow,
When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No longer blown hither and thither;
The last lone aster is gone;
The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;
The heart is still aching to seek,
But the feet question 'Whither?'

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or of a season?"
-Robert Frost

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Emily Dickinson Poetry

CERTAINTY
"I never saw a moor,
I never saw the sea;
Yet know I how the heather looks,
And what a wave must be.

I never spoke with God,
Nor visited in heaven;
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the chart were given."
-Emily Dickinson


BECAUSE I COULD NOT STOP FOR DEATH
"Because I could not stop for Death--
He kindly stopped for me--
The Carriage held but just Ourselves--
And Immortality.

We slowly drove--He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labour and my leisure too,
For His Civility--

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess--in the Ring--
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain--
We passed the Setting Sun--

Or rather--He passed Us--
The Dews drew quivering and chill--
For only Gossamer, my Gown--
My Tippet--only Tulle--

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground--
The Roof was scarcely visible--
The Cornice--in the Ground--

Since then--'tis Centuries--and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses Heads
Were toward Eternity--"
-Emily Dickinson


SUCCESS IS COUNTED SWEETEST
"Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition,
So clear, of victory,

As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear."
-Emily Dickinson


I HEARD A FLY BUZZ
"I heard a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.

The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.

I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I
Could make assignable,--and then
There interposed a fly,

With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then
I could not see to see."
-Emily Dickinson


AFTER GREAT PAIN...
"After great pain a formal feeling comes --
The nerves sit ceremonious like tombs;
The stiff heart questions - was it He that bore?
And yesterday - or centuries before?

The feet mechanical go round
A wooden way,
Of ground or air of Ought,
Regardless grown;
A quartz contentment like a stone.

This is the hour of lead
Remembered if outlived
As freezing persons recollect
The snow --
First chill, then stupor, then
The letting go."
-Emily Dickinson


"I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.

He questioned softly why I failed?
“For beauty,” I replied.
“And I for truth,—the two are one;
We brethren are,” he said.

And so, as kinsmen meet at night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered up our names."
-Emily Dickinson


"The daisy follows soft the sun,
And when his golden walk is done,
Sits shyly at his feet.
He, waking, finds the flower near.
“Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?”
“Because, sir, love is sweet!”

We are the flower, Thou the sun!
Forgive us, if as days decline,
We nearer steal to Thee,—
Enamoured of the parting west,
The peace, the flight, the amethyst,
Night’s possibility!"
-Emily Dickinson


"Sleep is supposed to be,
By souls of sanity,
The shutting of the eye.

Sleep is the station grand
Down which on either hand
The hosts of witness stand!

Morn is supposed to be,
By people of degree,
The breaking of the day.

Morning has not occurred!
That shall aurora be
East of eternity;

One with the banner gay,
One in the red array,—
That is the break of day."
-Emily Dickinson


THE BATTLEFIELD
"They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,
Like petals from a rose,
When suddenly across the June
A wind with fingers goes.

They perished in the seamless grass,—
No eye could find the place;
But God on his repealless list
Can summon every face."
-Emily Dickinson


"Bless God, he went as soldiers,
His musket on his breast;
Grant, God, he charge the bravest
Of all the martial blest.

Please God, might I behold him
In epauletted white,
I should not fear the foe then,
I should not fear the fight."
-Emily Dickinson


"Adrift! A little boat adrift!
And night is coming down!
Will no one guide a little boat
Unto the nearest town?

So sailors say, on yesterday,
Just as the dusk was brown,
One little boat gave up its strife,
And gurgled down and down.

But angels say, on yesterday,
Just as the dawn was red,
One little boat o’erspent with gales
Retrimmed its masts, redecked its sails
Exultant, onward sped!"
-Emily Dickinson

THIRST
"We thirst at first,—’t is Nature’s act;
And later, when we die,
A little water supplicate
Of fingers going by.

It intimates the finer want,
Whose adequate supply
Is that great water in the west
Termed immortality."
-Emily Dickinson