Older blog entries for badvogato (starting at number 298)






  • Dream Lover - 梦缘�

    Adoration knows not how and when it is seeded.
    Once it sprouts 
         it has a life of its own and knows no bounds
    Living is dead, dead is so alive.
    If what lives can not accompany what is dead,
       and what is dead can not reseed and do loving thee
    both have not reached the fullness of one cosmic breath 

    Lovers of the dream, why it has to be not real? it is not like this world is devoid of dreamers, so why not? ( dwell on what you have and have not? )

    copyright 2006 叶子 nunia

  • i'm having fun trolling from the trenches again.

    i think i ruined the front page. My apology. I discovered the beauty of Chinese language. And i am so in love with it. You have to forgive me ; )

    18 Feb 2006 (updated 25 Aug 2006 at 01:59 UTC) »

    love this book 'A Muriel Rukeyser Reader' edited by Jan Heller Levi who was Muriel Rukeyser's personal assistant from 1878 to 1980. Selected a few as illustrations of 'the stupidest war' thread.

    An idea ran about the world
    screaming with the pain of the mind
    until it met a child
    who stopped it with a word.

    The idea leaned over those newborn eyes and dreamed of the nature of things: the nature of memory and the nature of love; and forgave itself and all men.

    Quieted in a sea of sleeping the Idea began its long return -- renewed by the child's sea-colored eyes remembered the flesh, smiled and said:

    I see birds, spring and the birthplace unknown by the stable stone. I know light and I know motion and I remember I am not alone.

    The Idea voyaged nearer my breathing, saying Come balance come into the love of these faces and forces find us our equilibrium.

    And the child stirred, askng his questions. The Idea grew more fleshly and spoke: Beaten down I was Down I knew very long Newborn I begin.

    And the child went on asking his questions.

    The Idea journeying into my body retuend, and I knew the nature of One, and could forget One, and turn to the child, and whole could turn to the world again.

    Until the pain turns into answers and all the masters become askers And all the victims again doers And all the sources break in light.

    The child goes alive, asking his questions.

    RECOVERING Dream of the world speaking to me.

    The dream of the dead acted out in me.

    The fathers shouting across their blue gulf.

    A storm in each word, an incomplete universe.

    Lightening in brain, slow-time recovery.

    In the light of October things emrege clear.

    The force of looking returns to my eyes.

    Darkness arrives splitting the mind open.

    Something again is beginning to be born.

    A dance is dancing me.

    I wake in the dark.

    THEN When I am dead, even then, I will still love you, I will wait in these poems, When I am dead, even then I am still listening to you. I will still be making poems for you out of silence; silence will be falling into that silence, it is building music.

    17 Feb 2006 (updated 17 Feb 2006 at 02:44 UTC) »
  • http://wushuren.tianyablog.com 2005?9?17?????(Saturday)?? ????? # posted by ???? @ 2005-09-18 22:00 ??(0)

    i discovered the other day that apenwarr is in the default dail-up sample script on my Fujitzu Montego laptop which i bought some 12 years ago, paid $200 for extra 8M RAM and installed Linux through zip drive attached to parallel port.

  • 1 Feb 2006 (updated 1 Feb 2006 at 20:11 UTC) »

    http://limiao.net/blog - Chinese physicist personal blog site.

    恭喜發財 this is interesting. cut & paste Chinese encodeing didn't all the time but sometimes. what's going on behind the scene?

    went to the first class of Dante's Purgatorio by Jean Hollander. I confessed that i haven't read Inferno in its entirety. There's only myself and another gentleman raised our hands when the question was raised by professor Jean Hollander. i love her voice and her complains about co-translator, her husband Robert.

    to self: yuwen21.tianyablog.com

    25 Jan 2006 (updated 29 Jan 2006 at 17:51 UTC) »
  • The Infidel
    [ The husband says 'I started dating again']

    When you sleep next to a new soft body Does her strangeness excite you? Does long forgotten amorous tenderness melt you both?

    Night falls and day breaks strangers turn into lovers outgrown old shadowy flames still flickering in strange places and odd moments

    Darwin claimed Along the evolution path only the fittest survived.

    Tears dry out Tender hearts bleeding numb love dies a slow dance. Lust lurks in, promising new forms of flaming passion The fittest bites eternal exile from paradise

    Pray to heavenly father, that i was made, to live with His undying love of man and to contain life's lust to my own decay

    Oh son of Adam, God made man, let my cry come unto thee Jesus died for our sin and our lust in Darwin's bloody game.

  • 10 Jan 2006 (updated 10 Jan 2006 at 22:49 UTC) »
    where have all  these mojo  gone?
    long time passing.
    where have all the flowers gone
    long time ago?

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