there were roads taken
miles and miles of track
Ohio winters
LA springs
NY summers
autumn nowhere
and everywhere
leaves turning color
dropping in my path
with memories of you
I remember hair length
mine and yours
there was Anthony
our first shared hair stylist
who transformed me into someone
even I didn’t recognize
and you sold your waist length hair
to a wig maker
what did you use the money for
those acting lessons
the vocal coach
to buy presents for the men
in your life
when I was not quite in it
I remember sitting on the curb
in Hollywood
discussing Franny & Zooey
later listening to Henry Miller
talk movies
with your teacher/lover
in between drinks
and deep dish pizza
with Alex and Vimal
who didn’t drink
but liked to watch me
in case I fell down
and I came pretty close
on several occasions
those days/nights

BLOGGERS UNITE FOR PEACE!

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil
is for good men to do nothing.”

Edmund Burke

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We are normal, everyday hard-working people with a common hobby, blogging. We hail from far and wide. We reside in different lands, on different continents. We speak different languages, eat different foods, and are of varying ages, professions, and religious and cultural backgrounds.

We do have one thing in common…

We believe that terrorist attacks, wherever they may be perpetrated; whether in France, Tunisia, Canada, Iraq, or in Denmark, Turkey, UK, Algeria, Yemen, USA, Lebanon, or in the skies over Egypt, or in India, Saudi Arabia, Australia, Afghanistan, Nigeria, Kuwait, Libya, Bangladesh, Syria, or…

Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart;
My silent heart, lie still and break:
Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed
For a dream’s sake.

I wish I could remember the first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me;
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or winter for aught I can say.
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many a May.
If only I could recollect it! Such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow.
It seemed to mean so little, meant so much!
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in hand!–Did one but know!

i want a country
let the sky be blue, the bough green, the cornfield yellow
let it be a land of birds and flowers

i want a country
let there be no pain in the head, no yearning in the heart
let there be an end to brothers’ quarrels

i want a country
let there be no rich or poor, no you and me
on winter days let everyone have house and home

i want a country
let living be like loving from the heart
if there must be complaint, let it be of death

translated by Bernard Lewis

Robinson, my clever Robinson
you don’t know how I envy you.
If you could only show me your island,
there I would find peace of mind.

I’ll be the ship, you be the captain.
We can unfurl the sail one morning.
The sea becomes our shadow in the sun.
The journey. And suddenly we’re at our island.

I wish you could be my interpreter,
introduce me to the fish,
to wild birds and flowers,
say to them about me: “He’s one of us.”

I know how to climb trees.
I can tell a fruit that’s ripe.
I can also manage breaking stones,
making fires, cooking food.

Robinson, understanding Robinson,
if your island hasn’t sunk yet
take me there
before the seaways close.

Rosy lips
your white hands
hold my hands, babe,
hold them a while.

In the village where I was born
no birch trees;
I pine for cool water, babe,
caress me a while.

In the village where I was born
no wheat stems,
toss your hair around, babe,
toss it around.

Where I was born
bandits prowl at night;
I hate loneliness, babe,
talk to me a while.

the village where I was born
only northern wind;
my lips are cracked, babe,
kiss them a while.

In the village where I was born
only sour faces;
I am shy and sad, babe,
make me laugh a while.

Your face like Anatolia is beautiful;
my village is beautiful too;
now you tell me about your village, babe,
tell me for a while.

Am I your only love–in the whole world–now?
Am I really the only object of your love?
If passions rage in your mind,
If love springs eternal in your heart–
Is it all meant for me? Tell me again.

Tell me right now, am I the one who inspires
All your dark thoughts, all your sadness?
Share with me what you feel, what you think.
Come, my love, pour into my heart
Whatever gives you so much pain.
Tell me again.

translated by Talat S. Halman