Jessica Bibbee

Posts Tagged ‘idea’

20120223

In graphics, rumination on 20120224 at 01:26

20120222-04.generation-of-innovation

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20101211

In aphorism, haiku, poetry, proverb on 20101211 at 12:49

The fool’s idea of freedom is a world without rules and the fool’s idea of power is to rule the world.

A world without enforcement is but a world without rules.

Freedom must reach all, if it is to touch even one.

The fool love a home without leaving it; the wise love a home by returning to it.

《rainbow》
Lofty and crooked,
united yet divided –
rainbow in the sky.

《wind》
The wind never stops
pausing only to enjoy
the beauty of stillness.

20101130

In aphorism, proverb on 20101130 at 08:01

A fool mocks from a safe distance.

Hold onto blessings dearly; misgivings more loosely.

If memories are a cache of the past, ideas are credits of the future.

Genuineness is flawed, by nature; only falsity reaches perfection, by man.

Worry is for warts.

The dog that tucks its tail scares none with its bark.

One’s view of the world depends on whether one’s head is held high or bowed low.

20101127

In aphorism, proverb, quote, rumination on 20101127 at 15:54

Men of fear unite; men of courage disband.

One dog smells a fellow dog.

A fool sacrifices tomorrow -a day he does not have, for today -a day he will never have again.

Freedom is like oxygen –most appreciated in its absence.

Development is incremental change in the direction of progress.

Ore must be smelted before metal is poured.

A dirty diner let’s another do his dishes.

Ideas alone cannot realize inspiration; only ideas coupled with action give birth to inspiration.

《On Fear》
It is said that fear can be smelled; I say that fear stinks.

20100730

In aphorism, proverb on 20100730 at 08:43

Nourish a flower with only petals, and it will die; feed it with dirt and water and sunshine and a breeze, and it will bloom.

Who sets out in search of money will ne’er find riches; who sets out in search of inspiration will ne’er find ideas.

20091007

In aphorism, proverb on 20091007 at 16:05

If you have lost your focus in life, look to the lessons of photography: bring more light to your subject or reduce the speed.

The rich and the poor alike go barefoot.

The masses will follow a fool idea from the sound mind before following a sound idea from the mind fool.

The fool accept gratitude without humility.

If you want to make an impression, be riveting; if you want to shape, be flexible.

Water fits in a vase only by conforming.

Sooner the ice to melt than the water to freeze.

The freeze that comes before the thaw is Autumn; the thaw that comes before the freeze is Spring.

A good writer not only gives new ideas, but enables new ideas.

20090518

In aphorism, proverb on 20090518 at 09:01

Oppression of a right is simply the acknowledgment of its very existence, coupled with the denial of that acknowledgment and a contentedness with that denial.

Recipes are edible gold.

No blood is shed when the brain is washed, but neither does the blood flow that giveth forth life.

Maintain control through peaceful cooperation; seize it not by pernicious coercion.

Creativity is simply the manifestation of another idea via inspiration.

20060131

In poetry on 20060131 at 23:10

《the sex of poets》

The sex of poets emanates –
flowing as without edges,
contagious as without knowing;
words play
back and forth –
a rhythm, ever changing,
follows whereby one leads
until the pull of the next.
One moment
as without definition,
nor clearly sided with neighbors –
rolling one to the next.
Beckoned without call,
it is from a distance that
one sees deep into the heart
where life seems both
to stop and start, again –
without pause and
with the haste of lovers
kept at bay, unwilled.
The words sear clear,
sharp and pure.
They exist alone,
and yet are fed
by the hunger of ideas
yet tossed,
yet exposed –
as if the virgin ever lived
within the eyes of the soul;
forever waiting,
forever with hunger –
fresh as the moment to follow.

The sex of poets lingers
past the setting sun
into the morning dew,
where one knows not for sure
if the climax be truer
at the final release of
thoughts never felt, – or
perhaps at the time
of response; the
lover’s words, a compliment,
meshing with, as if one.
Almost beyond a reality,
the words live on
to dance without end,
to breed a careful song –
as if in tales of lore,
existence never certain.
Fleeting, though strong;
Skirting, though present –
The moment speaks not
of tangible truths
that speak of tomorrows,
but rather the window
rarely looked into –
it is there
it is waiting,
but cannot be taken with you,
nor fed to the mortal –
only to continue
in the souls of lovers –
perhaps truer than
the love of lovers itself.

The sex of poets preys
upon the passion saved
over years and decades
desires of the flesh
never satisfy the wound
of ages past
of pains neglected
merely masking in mum
the yearning ever mounting
to release with a single
sound
The silence is broken,
fears relinquished;
the rebirth of hopes
fills the air –
thick with the essence of now
and hint of next,
never to be sure.
The bliss lies within,
ever longing.
Separate worlds entwined –
an affair of the id
within…
Never lucid to the searching,
but in control.
When no longer logic bids you
surrender, at last call
with bursting souls;
hungrier still, the eve –
power of the word
has finally come, the time.