Today's Sentiments

Smile
Smile, though your heart is aching
Smile, even though it’s breaking
When there are clouds in the sky
you’ll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You’ll see the sun come shining through
for you


Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
That’s the time you must keep on trying
Smile what’s the use of crying
You’ll find that life is still worthwhile
If you’ll just
Smile

-Charlie Chaplin (Turner and Parsons)

Friendship

Such love I cannot analyze

It does not rest in lips or eyes

Neither in kisses nor caress.

Partly I know it's gentleness

And understanding in one word

Or in brief letters it's reserved

By trust and by respect and awe

These are the words I'm feeling for

Two people, yes, two lasting friends

The giving comes the taking ends

There is no measure for such things

By this all nature slows and sings.

Elizabeth Jennings

Lush Life

I used to visit all the very gay places
Those come-what-may places
Where one relaxes on the axis of the wheel of life
To get the feel of life
From jazz and cocktails.

The girls I knew had sad and sullen gray faces
With distinque traces
That used to be there -- You could see where they'd been washed away
By too many through the day
Twelve o'clock tales

Then you came along with your siren song
To tempt me to madness...
I thought for a while that your poignant smile
Was tinged with the sadness...
Of a great love for me.
Ah yes, I was wrong.
Again, I was wrong.

Life is lonely again,
And only last year, everything seemed so sure.
Now life is awful again,
A trough full of hearts could only be a bore.

A week in Paris will ease the bite of it
All I care is to smile in spite of it

I'll forget you, I will
While yet you are still
Burning inside my brain
Romance is mush
Stifling those who strive
I'll live a lush life in some small dive
And there I'll be, while I rot with the rest
Of those whose lives are lonely too.


Strayhorn

The Mourner

As to war's terrors and alarms I list,
When some new victim hath his life-blood shed,
'Tis not his wife I pity, nor his friend,
Nor grieve I for the hero who is dead.

The wife in time will cease to mourn her loss,
The best of friends and comrades will forget;
But there is one who will remember him
Even unto her grave, with eyes still wet.

Amid our trivial, hypocritic lives,
The only tears all holy and sincere
That I have seen, are those by mothers shed,
Who sorrow for their children, ever dear.

Their children on the bloody field who fell
They ne'er forget, but mourn them all their days.
Like are they to the weeping willow tree,
That never can its drooping branches raise.

-Nekrasov (trans. Alice Stone Blackwell)

Truth is within-not without thee.
Find thyself within thyself.
Not others shouldst thou subdue; subdue thyself;
be master of thyself-and thous shalt perceive truth.
Not in things, not outside thee nor overseas is this truth,
but above all in thine own labor for self-betterment.
If thou conquerest thyself, if thou humblest thyself,
then thou wilt be free beyond dreams;
Thou wilt labor upon a great task;
Thou wilt make others free and thous wilt find happiness.
since thy life will be full,
And thou wilt, finally, understand thine own people and their sacred truth.
Neither with the gypsies nor elsewhere is this universal harmony provided if thou thyself
art unworthy of it.
If thou art given to malice and pride, if thou demandest life as a gift without even comprehending that it has to be paid for..

Dostoevsky

Essay

I value the sublime.
Dreamlike beauty, that which rests
And is vibrant.
It is found in the moments,
Nearly all.
Peace.
Quiet.
Energy.
Vehemance!
Loving the people around me.
Those who are thoughtful,
Temporal, purposeful, fluid.
I could have a long bit about honesty and trust.
There is more than meets the eye in so many people.
Do they lie? Or is it that the beholder is blind?
No, it is that the beholder is shut off.
Cannot see, will not see, the beauty in herself or others.
Such a one will never understand.
Life is full of beauty and excellence beyond telling.
People like the scholar, the milk, the flower and the ring.
They truly love the temporal, the action, the inner self of life.
What gives a person worth?
Many would say that it is in being.
Some would say it is self-determined, depending on how they treat others.
Some would say that it is how they spend their time or money.
Some say it is attitude.
I believe that the thing that gives a person worth is the fire that drives them.
There is a flame inside all of us that is what gives us life, motivation, bringing vibrancy to our lives, our work, our families, our destiny.
This flame must be shared or it will be stifled.
Sometimes it requires the gasolene of inspiration or the substantial fuel of a long intellectual conversation or debate.
I speak freely now. This is not poetry. This is what I see.
I see people with waning flames behind their eyes.
Exhausted, burned out.
I want to alight them once more.
A cool wind of rest to fan the flames.

I do not know.

When David heard that Absolom was slain he went into the chamber over the gate and wept. "My son! My son! Oh my son! Absolom! Would that I had died for thee!"