Longing

There are lovers content with longing

I am not one of them

Paris

Sometimes I wonder how it would be to live in a rooftop flat in the middle of Paris,to write my memoirs,  at a table in front of an open window, at night, listening to late night noises of the city  . . .

I wonder, is Paris quiet at night?

“But Paris was a very old city and we were young and nothing was simple there, not even poverty, nor sudden money, nor the moonlight, nor right and wrong nor the breathing of someone who lay beside you in the moonlight.”

Ernest Hemingway

The Book of Questions III

Image: Tumblr

Tell me, is the rose naked

 or is that her only dress?

 Why do trees conceal

 the splendor of their roots?

 Who hears the regrets

 of the thieving automobile? 

Is there anything in the world sadder

 than a train standing in the rain?

Pablo Neruda

The spaces between seconds

“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.” 

― Salvador Plascencia, The People of Paper

He shall come

HE SHALL COME

"What I say unto you I say - unto all Watch.

"At even, or at midnight, or at the cock-crowing."

It may be in the evening,
When the work of the day is done,
And you have time to sit in the twilight,
And to watch the sinking sun;
While the long bright day dies slowly 
Over the sea,
And the hour grows quiet and holy
With thoughts of Me;
While you hear the village children
Passing along the street,
Among these thronging footsteps 
May come the sound of My feet;
Therefore I tell you, watch!
By the light of the evening star,
When the room is growing dusky
As the clouds afar;
Let the door be on the latch
In your home,
For it may be through the gloaming,
I will come.

It may be in the -midnight
When 'tis heavy upon the land,
And the black-waves lying dumbly
Along the sand;
When the moonless night draws close
And the lights are out in the house,
When the fires burn low and red,
And the watch is ticking loudly
Beside the bed;
Though you sleep tired on your couch,
Still your heart must wake and watch
In the dark room;
For it may be that at midnight
I will come.

It may be at the cock-crow, 
When the night is dying slowly In the sky,
And the sea looks calm and holy,
Waiting for the dawn of the golden sun
Which draweth nigh;
When the mists are on the valleys, shading,
The rivers chill,
And my morning star is fading, fading
Over the hill;
Behold, I say unto you, watch I
Let the door be on the latch
In your home,
In the chill before the dawning, 
Between the night and morning,
I may come.

It may be in the morning
When the sun is bright and strong, 
And the dew is glittering sharply 
Over the little lawn,
When the waves are laughing loudly
Along the shore,
And the little birds-are singing sweetly 
About the door;
With the long day's work before you
You are up with the sun,
And the neighbors come to talk a little
Of all that must be done;
gut, remember, that I may be the next
To come in at the door,
To call you from your busy work,
For evermore.
As you work, your heart must watch, 
For the door is on the latch
In your room,
And it may be in the morning
I will come.

So I am watching quietly Every day,
Whenever the sun shines brightly
I rise and say,
Surely it is the shining of His face,
And look unto the gate of His high place 
Beyond the sea,
For I know He is coming shortly
To summon me;
And when a shadow falls across the window

Of my room,
Where I am working my appointed task, 
I lift my head to watch the door and ask 
If He is come I
And the Spirit answers softly
In my home,
"Only a few more shadows,
And He will come."

Hold on

They hung a sign up in our town

"if you live it up, you won't

live it down"

So, she left Monte Rio, son

Just like a bullet leaves a gun

With charcoal eyes and Monroe hips

She went and took that California trip

Well, the moon was gold, her

Hair like wind

She said don't look back just

Come on Jim

Oh you got to

Hold on, Hold on

You got to hold on

Take my hand, I'm standing right here

You gotta hold on

Well, he gave her a dimestore watch

And a ring made from a spoon

Everyone is looking for someone to blame

But you share my bed, you share my name

Well, go ahead and call the cops

You don't meet nice girls in coffee shops

She said baby, I still love you

Sometimes there's nothin left to do

Oh you got to

Hold on, hold on

You got to hold on

Take my hand, I'm standing right here, you got to

Just hold on.

Well, God bless your crooked little heart St. Louis got the best of me

I miss your broken-china voice

How I wish you were still here with me

Well, you build it up, you wreck it down

You burn your mansion to the ground

When there's nothing left to keep you here, when

You're falling behind in this

Big blue world

Oh you go to

Hold on, hold on

You got to hold on

Take my hand, I'm standing right here

You got to hold on

Down by the Riverside motel,

It's 10 below and falling

By a 99 cent store she closed her eyes

And started swaying

But it's so hard to dance that way

When it's cold and there's no music

Well your old hometown is so far away

But, inside your head there's a record

That's playing, a song called

Hold on, hold on

You really got to hold on

Take my hand, I'm standing right here

And just hold on.