Jessica Bibbee

Posts Tagged ‘once’

20140225

In aphorism, tale on 20140226 at 11:06

《What Is, What Wills》

Once upon the deep, dwelled two pairs of seafaring lovers.

Both lived rather normal lives aboard their ships on the sea, full of ups and downs, as anyone would expect to see upon the sea.

On calm seas, both pairs made love with the illimitable passion of lovers held at bay.

But the sky does what a sky wills, and so oft brewed blackened clouds with the inevitable unknown beyond. It was in these times that the difference between the lovemakers was never more lucid.

For when the storms blew in, as only a fool could deny the inevitability of, the seasoned couple ceased their lovemaking, wisely understanding their lovemaking to be powerless against warding off the mighty storm. To them, worry was a more worthy and more rewarding charm.

The other couple continued to make love like only reckless lovers knew, much to the chagrin of the other lovers. And it was true that the lovers’ lovemaking did nary a thing to make the storm go away, to shorten the waves, or to lessen the impact.

Also true was it, that the cessation of the other lovers’ lovemaking neither did anything to encourage the passing of the storm.

For a truth is a truth as is a sail a sail. Wisdom lies in wielding a truth, not simply holding a truth.

For in the end, to the common eye, it was plain to see that lovemaking -and its lack thereof- had absolutely nary a thing to do with the coming of the storm, the size of the storm, nor the passing of the storm.

With the passing of a storm, what remained for the eye to see was but two sets of lovers at sea and two kinds of love as they so fit to see.

One, a weakened bond of fair weather lovers, who made love only when the sea was calm, losing only the opportunity to love each other through and so weather a storm together.

The other, a strengthened bond between the lovers, who made love without regard to a storm (or was it very much with regard to the storm?), losing only themselves in each other whether or not came the weather.

For a storm is what only a storm wills, and love is only what love wills.

20120427

In aphorism, poetry, proverb, rumination on 20120427 at 23:21

The fool seek dominance, the wise seek balance.

The fool make noise, the wise make music.

Art is unnecessary, and that is precisely what makes it necessary.

Music is a gift that we can give to or deny our children.

With fervor is there urgency in purpose.

Musicians are magicians.

A will is the wishes of the living respected by the living once the living days have passed on.

Music is the sound that the heart makes between beats.

But with the presence of a void does a note resonate, like the oxygen that fuels a flame.

The art of management is to exploit strength and mitigate weakness.

Exercise the metamuscle: think about your thinking.

《the war within》
War is something you
create
carry
kill
within your heart.

20120129

In aphorism, poetry, proverb, tale on 20120129 at 19:09

It took more than the kiss of a princess to turn a frog into a prince. It took a fairy tale.

Be who you want to be -not only for that it might make a difference to others, but for that it will make a difference in you.

One can live a fairy tale, but never shall one die in the same fairy tale.

《if you will》
from life, is derived experience.
from experience, is derived wisdom.
from wisdom, is derived life.

The only thing worse than being shat on is realizing that it’s of your own doing.

Relationships are like energy: once established, they cannot disappear, only change form.

Methinks myself exempt / methinks myself a fool.

Life is too short to be held back by: others, fear, fear of others, others’ fear.

One of the best rewards of teaching is learning.

201108013

In aphorism, proverb on 20110813 at 16:29

Give once, receive twice.

Hope lies around every corner.

There is no perfect time, only the present time.

20110306

In aphorism, proverb, quote, wordcoin on 20110306 at 04:48

Despite the fury deserveth a fool, to deliver the fury maketh twice the fool.

The fool excuse error of the self with the blame of others.

Bakery not worth eating all at once is not worth eating once at all.

Defense is an offense.

Who defends with violence has accepted the invitation of violence.

To be harmonic, conform to others; to be peaceful, reform the self.

The fool lead with linear vision in a reality of parallels.

The camouflaged have only cowardice to hide.

War is warful.

Provide steps to a fool that he might rise up; stoop to that of a fool and become that fool.

The fool justify an action in the name of reaction.

20101227

In tale on 20101227 at 15:33

《Flawed in the Eye of a Bumptious Camel》

In a land where the sun shone without reprieve, there once was a Camel so proud, that he would spit at the sight of another animal. For in his eyes, the others -they were all flawed.

A Little Bird, ever observant, came to rest on the head of the Camel. “Who are you spitting at today, dear Camel?”

The bumptious Camel responded with a huff, “Ha! Who does that Elephant think she is?” With a spit in the Elephant’s direction, he continued. “What a silly nose, it nearly hangs on the ground!”

The Little Bird smirked with wisdom unknown to the Camel, and responded, “Dear Camel, that long silly nose of the Elephant is quite a useful tool, don’t you see? She gathers water like a hose. And when no water there is, like a trumpet, she bellows!”

The bumptious Camel hesitated in concession but for a moment, turning next to the Lion. “Look at that scruff! Can’t a Lion tame his own mane?” And the Camel spit.

The Little Bird with a smirk, followed, “Dear Camel, that mangy mane not only makes it look kingly above all the other animals, but can you fancy it with a bob cut?”

The bumptious Camel could not disagree and chuckled at the thought of a better-groomed Lion.

But he quickly straightened his face and forced another spit, saying, “But what about the Giraffe? Such a long, gangling neck –what is a head doing so far from its feet?”

The Little Bird explained, “Dear Camel, when the rains visit no more, and food is scarce –only the Giraffe can reach those yet green leaves, so high up in the sky.”

Once more, the Camel scrambled to save the last of his all-knowing pride, and said, “The Rhino –what can be said of that sore-looking horn, smack in the middle of its mug!”

But the Little Bird was no shorter of words than she was of wisdom. “Dear Camel, that unsightly adornment of a horn might be nothing to look at, but it serves her well when intruders threaten with presence.”

Conceding at last, the Camel asked the Little Bird, “And what about you? What is your forte that feigns a flaw?”

The Little Bird asked, “Who me?” and with tilted head, paused in thought before responding, “Why… these scrawny legs of mine, I suppose. They aren’t much to look at, either -are they!”

The Camel timorously chuckled in agreement.

“But, when I fly…” the Little Bird expounded, “… ’tis as if I fly without the weight of any legs, -free to soar where’er the wind dares me!”

And with these words, the Little Bird set out for a spin, spreading her wings and tucking those scrawny legs right out of sight. This talent pleased the Camel, causing him to look down at his own not-so-scrawny legs.

But before the Camel could sputter a word, the Little Bird interjected, “Oh Camel, your legs are just fine, strong as the quadruped that you are! Your forte feigning flaw is not your knock knees, but only what you yourself cannot see.”

The Little Bird landed once again on the Camel’s forehead, this time facing backwards, her own tail dangling just in view of the Camel’s eyes.

At this, the Camel was instantly flummoxed, but equally intrigued.

With eyebrows now disheveled, he goaded the Little Bird, “Alright, Legs. Enough with empty accusations; Enlighten me, if you think you may!”

The Little Bird peered backwards over the Camel and said, “Have you ever wondered why you cannot roll around and scratch your back on the grasses of these barren plains, like the other quadrupeds?”

The Camel was dumbstruck, for the Little Bird had spoken the truth –though he had never paused to reason why.

“Look at this back of yours, Camel. It’s got a big bump on it, like you’ve been stuffed with a pillow!” The Little Bird bounced up and down on the noticeable bump.

The Camel spit in denial, then dropped his jaw with waning disbelief. He craned his neck to the side in search, as he realized that he’d never ever even seen this so-called bump. And he found his neck to be just long enough to catch a glimpse of what was indeed a most un-smooth bump. The Camel’s eyebrows settled into a heap of newfound shame.

The Little Bird flew up to this bump and said, “Dear Camel –this bump of a hump of yours, this flaw –is your forte.”

The Camel perked up a bit with hope enough to relieve his mounting shame. “Do enlighten me, Little Bird!”

“This hump of yours explains why you alone can brave the desert sands, without hint of oasis, for days on end. This bulky bump of a hump is but a reservoir, with water enough to endure time itself in light of the blazing sun!”

And this time, the Camel smiled a –no longer bumptious– smile and said, “Hey, Legs- so wise are you! Now, I see… the only flaw of mine, was in the sight of my eyes!”

20090331

In poetry, rumination on 20090331 at 16:39

《at least once》
I am a genius and a fool,
a gem and a tool,
the sky and the soil,
the harvest and the spoil.

《Minding Heart》
While my heart is soft,
brilliantly resilient,
it is my mind
that is strong,
never rigid.

20081027

In aphorism, poetry, proverb, tale on 20081027 at 18:43

The assassin creates a martyr where before stood merely a mortal.

War in the name of peace is to starve in the the name of nutrition.

Defense that strikes offense has reunited with lost kin.

《until the night》
Where by day Johnny went, where by day Johnny trusted;
always once or more, be it twice or even thrice.
Until the day was done, the night had barely come
and Johnny trusted not ’til morn.