Jessica Bibbee

Posts Tagged ‘set’

20131009

In poetry, rumination on 20131009 at 21:03

《the way》
dear little one,
the world is yours.
the world was yours
even before you belonged
to it.
it was, is, and will be
your redemption as often
as it will be your nemesis.
do not be afraid, for fear
will not carry your burdens
nor will it shelter you
from the elements.
have hope as much as will
allow triumph
over the ills of present,
but none so much that
you deceive yourself
of the realities of the future
or the consequences of the past.
days of sorrow will weave
a tight knit alongside joy,
neither with warning
nor with limitation.
you shall persist because
you know of nothing else,
not only because you will it.
for as a mortal, possibility
is as finite only as is time.
what tomorrow will bring you,
yesterday has already taken
away, with a fluidity that
surprises with subtlety.
you will love and hurt,
feel pain and transfer pain.
you will always forgive
because the alternative
is no alternative.
fairness and justice
will oft be at odds
with one another and for you.
you will not always deserve
your destiny, but you will
decide not to deny it.
for tonight, the sun sets low,
but tomorrow, high,
high shall the sun rise up.
oh, little one, until tomorrow,
good night.

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20120203

In aphorism, proverb, rumination on 20120203 at 09:24

The joy in knowing that you were wrong is learning what is right.

The wise rejoice in their mistakes, for they have found what is right.
The fool repeats in their mistakes, for they do not seek what is right.

It takes not execution of perfection, but sincere apology to right a wrong.

Though the Sun has set, / Fear not the Night – / That Sun is but / A Lilliputian Star; / Open your eyes to / The Universe in sight.

20111204

In aphorism on 20111205 at 12:26

The Strong have no more intention of tearing you down than do the Weak of building you up.

Do what you gotta do to be who you oughtta be.

A victim is snared in a trap that is set by himself.

20110811

In aphorism, proverb on 20110811 at 14:20

Action follows values,
values follow desire,
desire follows choice.

Values are the mold into which desire is poured and action is set.

20110707

In aphorism, chinese, proverb on 20110707 at 09:03

A postcard is as the moon of the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival, uniting friends afar.

Self be wise; make fool only without truth. [top 8 words from this blog, on this day]

The sun shines on, amidst sweat, tears, and blood.

No sooner does the sun set, does the sun rise again.

20101005

In aphorism, poetry, proverb on 20101005 at 18:37

If the only way to fight fear is to understand it, then we must bear shields of tolerance and fashion weapons of compassion.

《Changdeok, Seoul》
Palace grounds made of stone
Palace walls made of wood
the setting sun hath shone
what might such beauty could.

20091107

In aphorism, idiom, proverb, rumination on 20091107 at 14:30

[on BELIEF and ACTION]

It is possible to know one’s beliefs by looking at their actions, but it is impossible to know one’s actions simply by looking at one’s beliefs.

For belief is different than action, and rare is the person who acts according to his or her professed belief.

Humans are mortal, by definition, and know for certain very little about things immortal.

Hypothesis and superstitions, often termed belief, aim to simplify what is supernatural, i.e., what is not of this earth.

One’s beliefs cannot change reality, they cannot explain the past or define the future. At most, a belief may shape the present, and only our actions can agree with our beliefs.

If our actions do not match our beliefs, then it is only the present that we disgrace in the name of the future.

A belief which does not match our actions is but another’s, whose existence is never real enough to call our own. In this light, it is only possible to say that actions exist and beliefs are as only as real as said actions.

The action which differs from belief must relinquish any ties to that belief, for they are separate, they are an ‘other’ unto each other.

A fool professes a belief and guides not his actions to follow. The wise guide their own actions accordingly, and in doing so, set forth a belief which no soul can dispute, as it is backed with action.

20090828

In aphorism, proverb on 20090828 at 04:34

Where hope is lost, fear is faced.

The setting sun is in fact a rising sun.

Where there is stability, we may not regress; neither shall we progress.

Man is never ashamed of who he is, but frequently embarrassed of who he was.

Perhaps people are created equal, but they are not born equally, are not raised equally, do not live equally, and thus reality suggests they are not equal.

20090430

In aphorism, proverb on 20090430 at 10:44

The clearest way to see within is to be without.

There is a time to shine, and a time to let others shine.

The setting of the sun has a silent way of bidding farewell.

And the small root shall overcome even the most stubborn of the big rocks.

A blossom blooms only while the beauty begets and will whither wherever the wind wills.

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.