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Monday, June 30, 2014

Fourth of July: Little Egg Harbor, NJ

(The F. Scott Fitzgerald Model home
Little Egg Harbor, NJ)

“Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

-Ulysses , Alfred, Lord Tennyson

“Everything dies baby that's a fact

But maybe everything that dies someday comes back

Put your makeup on fix your hair up pretty and

Meet me tonight in Atlantic City”

- Atlantic City, Bruce Springsteen

“How does one become a butterfly? They have to want to learn to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.”

― Trina Paulus, Hope for the Flowers

Fot most of the forty-year Bloomsday passage

On this side of paradise,

The two of them had

Rockawayed the days and nights.

Wondering if the green light at West Egg was real

They were “simultaneously enchanted and repelled

by the inexhaustible variety of life.”

That ancient aging ticking clock

And tattered calendar indicated

That time finally had arrived.

They sang together

“Everything dies baby that’s a fact,

Everything that dies someday comes back.”

Unlike Alice who didn’t care much what path to follow

These wanderers launched out again-

They “beat on, boats against the current.”

The baggage they carried

Was heavy, rich and not a burden.

Multiple graces and so many friendly faces

Find favor in their memories.

Whyte’s journey prayer echoes

On their passage to hope

“You are not leaving but arriving.”

And a sign strategically placed

By some greater hand

Calms the ambiguous sea,

“Heaven is a little closer

in a home

by the water.”

The first one said softly

“The aurora is rising

behind us.”

The second one said

“Meet me tonight in Atlantic City.”

It was their Independence Day. *

(* Thanks to Alfred Lord Tennyson, The Boss, Lewis Carroll, David Whyte and of course Joyce and FS Fitzgerald for the inspiration)

So much to say …. My own words inadequate ....I will let the songs below do the talking…. Enjoy!

Smart phones click the link if you don’t see the music videos on your page.

One of these Days – Neil Young

http://youtu.be/_RuuyZYGSzU

These are the days – Van Morrison

http://youtu.be/_lyve_egY8o

Rockaway the Days – Bruce Springsteen

http://youtu.be/U7GOkZFOsq4

Cousin Caterpillar – The Incredible String Band

http://youtu.be/nu0brlGGQ2Y

Watching the wheels – John Lennon

http://youtu.be/qp9dc9im3-M

Under the Boardwalk – The Drifters

http://youtu.be/EPEqRMVnZNU

Fourth of July Asbury Park – Bruce Springsteen

http://youtu.be/KgFHM8HMbWQ

Atlantic City – Bruce Springsteen
http://youtu.be/g2TmSB8ccLY

Wishing blessings to my Jersey Girls, family, friends and neighbors ….

Always Grateful,

John

amdg

Friday, May 2, 2014

Home

There was that day when she stood
Waiting and welcoming

Glowing radiantly in the rays of the midday sun.

Trees stood in their full color guarding

The pathway to her heart.

It was as if she knew that the time as perfect.

She was the treasure the pilgrims had sought.

Mature but not tired,

Proud but not overbearing.

A flight of birds burst in formation

To exploding out into all directions,

Mother nature’s feathered fireworks

Days, became weeks, weeks months and months years.

The birds and their songs never departed.

In the dark soul of night she was honored by the sounds of

The crickets’ celestial chorus accompanied by

The sound of rustling leaves slowly

Shaken by the breath of God.

Her purpose was to be the perpetual peace-giver.

She would be more than a sanctuary

Island in the stream.

Gilbranesque filled photo albums record remembering

Moveable feasts of joyful gatherings and celebrations:

Baptisms, birthdays, Christmases and Easters
With friends and family!

Canine companions freely frolicked frequently with her.

In times of grieving she was a source of

Mystical silent prayers of solace

And comfort for the tears.

Always strong she stood her ground and sheltered her clan

From the frozen winters, sweltering summers

And the storms of all seasons and sources.

When they were tired she provided a safe haven

From the busy-ness and strain of the world.

All souls felt safe with her and would dream in comfort.

She was, no, she is sacred ground.

One pilgrim would lovingly anoint her honoring her with flowers

While the other would assure that music

Continuously sanctified this temple.

Those gathered with her flourished.

But truth and complete love can be found in letting go.

The pilgrims’ first then their second would say farewell

Launching out on their own journeys to find out.

She would always be there when and if they would feel

A burning desire to feel that unconditional love again.

A wise prophetess she seemed to know

Her work here too would come to an end.

A time would soon arrive when the original pilgrims

Would pass solemnly through

Her door of salvation one final time.

There will be no “goodbyes” just gratitude

Knowing they could return to her in their hearts.

If perchance you visit her lend an ear and listen carefully,

You can hear the pilgrims’ spirits

Living within her forever.

Our House – C, S, N and Y
(Smart Phone click Link) http://youtu.be/7G6cFtsxKz0

Home …David Byrne
(Smart phones click the link) http://youtu.be/06jFQMxPtxw

amdg

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New Blog - Rain and Rivers Revisited: A Journey of a Lost Weekend

Well you may recall I have been working on a piece of fiction for a while now. It is still a work in progress. However, I decided

to release drafts of the first few episodes ( chapters.) Much of the work is completed but I am always cutting and editing.

http://rainandriversrevisited.blogspot.com/

It is difficult to release just pieces at a time as they are created as independent episodes they are also all parts of a larger piece (and picture .) I could share more but I am curious to read or hear your feedback.

I want to thank those friends and supporters who have already provided feedback ...and of course all the folks who have been following my Second Chance Dance Blog ( by the way that will continue.)

The material in the Blog is all copyrighted and cannot be reproduced in any form. Though, I welcome you to share the link and this blog with others .So please when you have a few minutes take a read and let me know what you think. I expect to be posting a series of subsequent episodes shortly.

Thanks....

News of Death

(This is for Coach)

Last night they came with news of death
not knowing what I would say.
I wanted to say,"The green wind is running through the fields making the grass lie flat."
I wanted to say,"The apple blossom flakes like ash covering the orchard wall."
I wanted to say,"the fish float belly up in the slow stream,stepping stones to the dead."

They asked if I would sleep that night,
I said I did not know.
For this loss I could not speak,the tongue lay idle in a great darkness,the heart was strangely open,the moon had gone,and it was then when I said, "He is no longer here"
that the night put its arms around me
and all the white stars turned bitter with grief.
- David Whyte

What Work is

We stand in the rain in a long line

waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work.

You know what work is--if you're

old enough to read this you know what

work is, although you may not do it.

Forget you. This is about waiting,

shifting from one foot to another.

Feeling the light rain falling like mist

into your hair, blurring your vision

until you think you see your own brother

ahead of you, maybe ten places.

You rub your glasses with your fingers,

and of course it's someone else's brother,

narrower across the shoulders than

yours but with the same sad slouch, the grin

that does not hide the stubbornness,

the sad refusal to give in to

rain, to the hours wasted waiting,

to the knowledge that somewhere ahead

a man is waiting who will say, "No,

we're not hiring today," for any

reason he wants. You love your brother,

now suddenly you can hardly stand

the love flooding you for your brother,

who's not beside you or behind or

ahead because he's home trying to

sleep off a miserable night shift

at Cadillac so he can get up

before noon to study his German.

Works eight hours a night so he can sing

Wagner, the opera you hate most,

the worst music ever invented.

How long has it been since you told him

you loved him, held his wide shoulders,

opened your eyes wide and said those words,

and maybe kissed his cheek? You've never

done something so simple, so obvious,

not because you're too young or too dumb,

not because you're jealous or even mean

or incapable of crying in

the presence of another man, no,

just because you don't know what work is.

Philip Levine

On Marriage - Kahil Gibran

You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.

But let there be spaces in your togetherness,And let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another, but make not a bond of love:Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loafSing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.And stand together yet not too near together:For the pillars of the temple stand apart,And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

A favorite "Journey" poem from a favorite poet

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.
-- Mary Oliver

Send or post one of your favorites! They can be lyrics to a song!

Playing For Change

Please see the current music video from "Playing for Change" at the bottom of this page. It is a movement. Enjoy!

"Playing for Change" is a multimedia movement created to inspire, connect, and bring peace to the world through music. The idea for this project arose from a common belief that music has the power to break down boundaries and overcome distances between people. No matter whether people come from different geographic, political, economic, spiritual or ideological backgrounds, music has the universal power to transcend and unite us as one human race. And with this truth firmly fixed in our minds, we set out to share it with the world

Fall in Love

“Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in a love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the mornings, what you will do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything.” --- Pedro Arrupe SJ