Stunning music by my friend Simon Boult, his voice literally gives me a chill yet there is a beautiful warmth present in his tone.. wow..and what lyrics, my....enjoy guys...
Blood by Simon Boult
Saturday, 25 September 2010
all is truth
Song at Sunset
by: Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
Splendor of ended day floating and filling me,
Hour prophetic, hour resuming the past,
Inflating my throat, you divine average,
You earth and life till the last ray gleams I sing.
Open mouth of my soul uttering gladness,
Eyes of my soul seeing perfection,
Natural life of me faithfully praising things,
Corroborating forever the triumph of things.
Illustrious every one!
Illustrious what we name space, sphere of unnumber'd spirits,
Illustrious the mystery of motion in all beings, even the tiniest insect,
Illustrious the attribute of speech, the senses, the body,
Illustrious the passing light--illustrious the pale reflection on
the new moon in the western sky,
Illustrious whatever I see or hear or touch, to the last.
Good in all,
In the satisfaction and aplomb of animals,
In the annual return of the seasons,
In the hilarity of youth,
In the strength and flush of manhood,
In the grandeur and exquisiteness of old age,
In the superb vistas of death.
Wonderful to depart!
Wonderful to be here!
The heart, to jet the all-alike and innocent blood!
To breathe the air, how delicious!
To speak--to walk--to seize something by the hand!
To prepare for sleep, for bed, to look on my rose-color'd flesh!
To be conscious of my body, so satisfied, so large!
To be this incredible God I am!
To have gone forth among other Gods, these men and women I love.
Wonderful how I celebrate you and myself
How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around!
How the clouds pass silently overhead!
How the earth darts on and on! and how the sun, moon, stars, dart on and on!
How the water sports and sings! (surely it is alive!)
How the trees rise and stand up, with strong trunks, with branches
and leaves!
(Surely there is something more in each of the trees, some living soul.)
O amazement of things--even the least particle!
O spirituality of things!
O strain musical flowing through ages and continents, now reaching
me and America!
I take your strong chords, intersperse them, and cheerfully pass
them forward.
I too carol the sun, usher'd or at noon, or as now, setting,
I too throb to the brain and beauty of the earth and of all the
growths of the earth,
I too have felt the resistless call of myself.
As I steam'd down the Mississippi,
As I wander'd over the prairies,
As I have lived, as I have look'd through my windows my eyes,
As I went forth in the morning, as I beheld the light breaking in the east,
As I bathed on the beach of the Eastern Sea, and again on the beach
of the Western Sea,
As I roam'd the streets of inland Chicago, whatever streets I have roam'd,
Or cities or silent woods, or even amid the sights of war,
Wherever I have been I have charged myself with contentment and triumph.
I sing to the last the equalities modern or old,
I sing the endless finales of things,
I say Nature continues, glory continues,
I praise with electric voice,
For I do not see one imperfection in the universe,
And I do not see one cause or result lamentable at last in the universe.
O setting sun! though the time has come,
I still warble under you, if none else does, unmitigated adoration.
All Is Truth
by: Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
O me, man of slack faith so long,
Standing aloof, denying portions so long,
Only aware to-day of compact all-diffused truth,
Discovering to-day there is no lie or form of lie, and can be none,
but grows as inevitably upon itself as the truth does upon itself,
Or as any law of the earth or any natural production of the earth does.
(This is curious and may not be realized immediately, but it must be
realized,
I feel in myself that I represent falsehoods equally with the rest,
And that the universe does.)
Where has fail'd a perfect return indifferent of lies or the truth?
Is it upon the ground, or in water or fire? or in the spirit of man?
or in the meat and blood?
Meditating among liars and retreating sternly into myself, I see
that there are really no liars or lies after all,
And that nothing fails its perfect return, and that what are called
lies are perfect returns,
And that each thing exactly represents itself and what has preceded it,
And that the truth includes all, and is compact just as much as
space is compact,
And that there is no flaw or vacuum in the amount of the truth--but
that all is truth without exception;
And henceforth I will go celebrate any thing I see or am,
And sing and laugh and deny nothing.
Among the Multitude
by: Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
Among the men and women the multitude,
I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs,
Acknowledging none else, not parent, wife, husband, brother, child,
any nearer than I am,
Some are baffled, but that one is not--that one knows me.
Ah lover and perfect equal,
I meant that you should discover me so by faint indirections,
And I when I meet you mean to discover you by the like in you.
by: Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
Splendor of ended day floating and filling me,
Hour prophetic, hour resuming the past,
Inflating my throat, you divine average,
You earth and life till the last ray gleams I sing.
Open mouth of my soul uttering gladness,
Eyes of my soul seeing perfection,
Natural life of me faithfully praising things,
Corroborating forever the triumph of things.
Illustrious every one!
Illustrious what we name space, sphere of unnumber'd spirits,
Illustrious the mystery of motion in all beings, even the tiniest insect,
Illustrious the attribute of speech, the senses, the body,
Illustrious the passing light--illustrious the pale reflection on
the new moon in the western sky,
Illustrious whatever I see or hear or touch, to the last.
Good in all,
In the satisfaction and aplomb of animals,
In the annual return of the seasons,
In the hilarity of youth,
In the strength and flush of manhood,
In the grandeur and exquisiteness of old age,
In the superb vistas of death.
Wonderful to depart!
Wonderful to be here!
The heart, to jet the all-alike and innocent blood!
To breathe the air, how delicious!
To speak--to walk--to seize something by the hand!
To prepare for sleep, for bed, to look on my rose-color'd flesh!
To be conscious of my body, so satisfied, so large!
To be this incredible God I am!
To have gone forth among other Gods, these men and women I love.
Wonderful how I celebrate you and myself
How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around!
How the clouds pass silently overhead!
How the earth darts on and on! and how the sun, moon, stars, dart on and on!
How the water sports and sings! (surely it is alive!)
How the trees rise and stand up, with strong trunks, with branches
and leaves!
(Surely there is something more in each of the trees, some living soul.)
O amazement of things--even the least particle!
O spirituality of things!
O strain musical flowing through ages and continents, now reaching
me and America!
I take your strong chords, intersperse them, and cheerfully pass
them forward.
I too carol the sun, usher'd or at noon, or as now, setting,
I too throb to the brain and beauty of the earth and of all the
growths of the earth,
I too have felt the resistless call of myself.
As I steam'd down the Mississippi,
As I wander'd over the prairies,
As I have lived, as I have look'd through my windows my eyes,
As I went forth in the morning, as I beheld the light breaking in the east,
As I bathed on the beach of the Eastern Sea, and again on the beach
of the Western Sea,
As I roam'd the streets of inland Chicago, whatever streets I have roam'd,
Or cities or silent woods, or even amid the sights of war,
Wherever I have been I have charged myself with contentment and triumph.
I sing to the last the equalities modern or old,
I sing the endless finales of things,
I say Nature continues, glory continues,
I praise with electric voice,
For I do not see one imperfection in the universe,
And I do not see one cause or result lamentable at last in the universe.
O setting sun! though the time has come,
I still warble under you, if none else does, unmitigated adoration.
All Is Truth
by: Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
O me, man of slack faith so long,
Standing aloof, denying portions so long,
Only aware to-day of compact all-diffused truth,
Discovering to-day there is no lie or form of lie, and can be none,
but grows as inevitably upon itself as the truth does upon itself,
Or as any law of the earth or any natural production of the earth does.
(This is curious and may not be realized immediately, but it must be
realized,
I feel in myself that I represent falsehoods equally with the rest,
And that the universe does.)
Where has fail'd a perfect return indifferent of lies or the truth?
Is it upon the ground, or in water or fire? or in the spirit of man?
or in the meat and blood?
Meditating among liars and retreating sternly into myself, I see
that there are really no liars or lies after all,
And that nothing fails its perfect return, and that what are called
lies are perfect returns,
And that each thing exactly represents itself and what has preceded it,
And that the truth includes all, and is compact just as much as
space is compact,
And that there is no flaw or vacuum in the amount of the truth--but
that all is truth without exception;
And henceforth I will go celebrate any thing I see or am,
And sing and laugh and deny nothing.
Among the Multitude
by: Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
Among the men and women the multitude,
I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs,
Acknowledging none else, not parent, wife, husband, brother, child,
any nearer than I am,
Some are baffled, but that one is not--that one knows me.
Ah lover and perfect equal,
I meant that you should discover me so by faint indirections,
And I when I meet you mean to discover you by the like in you.
Wednesday, 22 September 2010
Tuesday, 21 September 2010
the weight of starlight
if there is an easy way to figure it out,
why is it hidden in the stars and the moon?
if i didn't sit here working it out,
would wisdom, understanding come to me soon?
sometime when we stare at a star, it doesn't seem bright
looking into he darkness, blaming the light
isn't it our eyes, misreading the night
misunderstanding the weight of starlight.
why is it hidden in the stars and the moon?
if i didn't sit here working it out,
would wisdom, understanding come to me soon?
sometime when we stare at a star, it doesn't seem bright
looking into he darkness, blaming the light
isn't it our eyes, misreading the night
misunderstanding the weight of starlight.
Monday, 20 September 2010
He's making all things new
autumn you're here again but i feared your arrival
i thought the colours i sighed would choke the back of my throat
but they are here despite my denial
i sat cross legged on my bed and listened to the wind batter my pane
the clouds moved passed my window in complete defiance
my mind worked over the mess, the tattered canvas, the stain.
but He's making all things new again
im becoming whole once more
the broken girl searching rest for her head
no longer needs the peace at his chest, instead
she's being made whole again
old times felt the slice down her center, his lips on her eyes, the habit he made, the love that died, the grit in her mind, the salt in her wound, the picture of two, the true end of one, the tears in her eyes, the kiss he wiped dry, the stain that they left, the kick in the stomach, their moments in torrent, the hours they played, the decision they made, the rivers she wades.
but slowly He's making all things new
at last the putting together, the sight thats restored, the lessons in light, the gift of the flight, the peace He provides, the soothing her mind, the cure for the wound, her vision renewed, the Almighty One, the cross where He died, the snow that is new, the eternity He won, the choice i now make, my life until life fades.
i thought the colours i sighed would choke the back of my throat
but they are here despite my denial
i sat cross legged on my bed and listened to the wind batter my pane
the clouds moved passed my window in complete defiance
my mind worked over the mess, the tattered canvas, the stain.
but He's making all things new again
im becoming whole once more
the broken girl searching rest for her head
no longer needs the peace at his chest, instead
she's being made whole again
old times felt the slice down her center, his lips on her eyes, the habit he made, the love that died, the grit in her mind, the salt in her wound, the picture of two, the true end of one, the tears in her eyes, the kiss he wiped dry, the stain that they left, the kick in the stomach, their moments in torrent, the hours they played, the decision they made, the rivers she wades.
but slowly He's making all things new
at last the putting together, the sight thats restored, the lessons in light, the gift of the flight, the peace He provides, the soothing her mind, the cure for the wound, her vision renewed, the Almighty One, the cross where He died, the snow that is new, the eternity He won, the choice i now make, my life until life fades.
Monday, 13 September 2010
at dusk the darkness is too pathetic to render lights useful and the lights are too blinding but of no use...
a seemingly negative title, but relevant for this time in my life.
i was driving home from my sisters house in Salisbury on sunday afternoon and after having an incredible time there and chatting to adrienne on the way home (who, i add, was on a spiritual role, spilling out the most truthful teaching iv heard in ages, upon breaking down lies we let build up- [ask her about it cos she'll tell you better than me]) it dawned on me ---ironically as it was dusk-- that this time in the day was reflecting not just my mood but my stance nowdays in life....
i am not letting God's truth penetrate my action to fully heal me yet neither am i roaming so far into the darkness that i am lost for good.... so this puts me in a kind of irritating place where i cant find my way easily...i see the lights brightly (hear the truth clearly) but i am also very aware that there is this looming darkness, although i see how flawed and pathetic it is at holding me down, it irritated me enough to distraction, stealing my joy from my days and causing me to waste away...
its very important not to waste days....if you were a new born baby, every day would be a triumph as you survive against the odds, if you were dying, every day would be treasured in the the face of last opportunities, thus my point is that the longer we meander and put off our relationship with Jesus, the longer we dwell in dusk. my side point is.. that as annoying as the it is to feel lost, dusk is still beautiful, and this just shows how good God is, that He'd rather we had the gift of life and ignore Him than not have the chance to experience life at all. of course He wants to know us and wants to show us the how fully incredible the sun is when it rises..and so much more, but if we choose to carry on not trusting in His word and not living in his Light, then we'll never know the extent of beauty to which He was literally dying to tell us about...
yeah but how do i put this into practice?... well i believe it starts as a choice in the heart, a choice as to whether i can believe that there is a greater light by which to see the beauty of the world in, than that which is offered to me by the dusk, then i think it moves into a command upon my thoughts. using the spirtial amour mentioned in Ephesians to fight the 'pre-assigned' systems which i have just taken up idly, instead of actually defining a self for my self.
one of my best friends was talking about this the other day in his blog, which i haste to add, is awesome, so go read it and seriously enjoy
http://sibarbs.wordpress.com/
but he was saying
i dont really have anything much to add to that except i want to make a stand aginst being robbed... now im not taking about a criminal robbing your purse, that only happens to a few of us on a bad occasion ... im talking about being robbed of the joy that is ours that is getting stolen as we choose dusk, when we decide to tourture ourselves with negative thinking, when we settle for less, when we believe there is no meaning and nothing more...
i wont be a victim of a spiritual criminal that is trying to steal my heart, because my heart its going to be behind a breastplate of righteousness [a cover over my life source(heart) through being in-right-relationship(righteousness) with God]
Amen. Goonight.
i was driving home from my sisters house in Salisbury on sunday afternoon and after having an incredible time there and chatting to adrienne on the way home (who, i add, was on a spiritual role, spilling out the most truthful teaching iv heard in ages, upon breaking down lies we let build up- [ask her about it cos she'll tell you better than me]) it dawned on me ---ironically as it was dusk-- that this time in the day was reflecting not just my mood but my stance nowdays in life....
i am not letting God's truth penetrate my action to fully heal me yet neither am i roaming so far into the darkness that i am lost for good.... so this puts me in a kind of irritating place where i cant find my way easily...i see the lights brightly (hear the truth clearly) but i am also very aware that there is this looming darkness, although i see how flawed and pathetic it is at holding me down, it irritated me enough to distraction, stealing my joy from my days and causing me to waste away...
its very important not to waste days....if you were a new born baby, every day would be a triumph as you survive against the odds, if you were dying, every day would be treasured in the the face of last opportunities, thus my point is that the longer we meander and put off our relationship with Jesus, the longer we dwell in dusk. my side point is.. that as annoying as the it is to feel lost, dusk is still beautiful, and this just shows how good God is, that He'd rather we had the gift of life and ignore Him than not have the chance to experience life at all. of course He wants to know us and wants to show us the how fully incredible the sun is when it rises..and so much more, but if we choose to carry on not trusting in His word and not living in his Light, then we'll never know the extent of beauty to which He was literally dying to tell us about...
yeah but how do i put this into practice?... well i believe it starts as a choice in the heart, a choice as to whether i can believe that there is a greater light by which to see the beauty of the world in, than that which is offered to me by the dusk, then i think it moves into a command upon my thoughts. using the spirtial amour mentioned in Ephesians to fight the 'pre-assigned' systems which i have just taken up idly, instead of actually defining a self for my self.
The Armor of God
10Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. 11Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. 12For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 13Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. 18And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints.
one of my best friends was talking about this the other day in his blog, which i haste to add, is awesome, so go read it and seriously enjoy
http://sibarbs.wordpress.com/
but he was saying
Don’t be bored. Do the things you love.
Don’t do what society tells you to do. Do what you want to do. Do what you’re great at. Do what makes you feel free....Be who YOU want to be. Only you can make that change. Do not be who you are told you are. Do not be who you are told you should be. Be who YOU want to be..
i dont really have anything much to add to that except i want to make a stand aginst being robbed... now im not taking about a criminal robbing your purse, that only happens to a few of us on a bad occasion ... im talking about being robbed of the joy that is ours that is getting stolen as we choose dusk, when we decide to tourture ourselves with negative thinking, when we settle for less, when we believe there is no meaning and nothing more...
i wont be a victim of a spiritual criminal that is trying to steal my heart, because my heart its going to be behind a breastplate of righteousness [a cover over my life source(heart) through being in-right-relationship(righteousness) with God]
Amen. Goonight.
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