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Music, Videos, Poetry that Gets Us Through

(@journeywithme2)
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Joined: 6 years ago
Posts: 1911
 

@luminous  I am currently wiping coffee off my laptop screen where I spewed coffee laughing at this!! ? 



   
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(@luminous)
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Joined: 6 years ago
Posts: 398
 

I'm glad it made you laugh @journeywithme2

 



   
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(@jeanne-mayell)
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Joined: 9 years ago
Posts: 7252
Topic starter  

@luminous Excellent video. It was funny and then it got funnier. 

 



   
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(@ana)
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My husband (then-boyfriend) and I saw Michael Hedges play in a club  about 6 months before he (Hedges) passed.  He was brilliant and amazing and had a great absurdist sense of humor. We both had the sense we were in the presence of a higher-order soul.  Moderately inebriated BF came up to the stage at the end of the show and shook MH's hand said (inebriatedly) "I love you man!".  LOL  



   
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(@journeywithme2)
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Posts: 1911
 

@jeanne-mayell   That link also contains her newest poem just released "New Day's Lyric"

‘New Day's Lyric’ by Amanda Gorman

May this be the day

We come together.

Mourning, we come to mend, 

Withered, we come to weather,

Torn, we come to tend,

Battered, we come to better. 

Tethered by this year of yearning,

We are learning

That though we weren't ready for this, 

We have been readied by it.

Steadily we vow that no matter

How we are weighed down,

We must always pave a way forward.

This hope is our door, our portal.

Even if we never get back to normal, 

Someday we can venture beyond it,

To leave the known and take the first steps. 

So let us not return to what was normal, 

But reach toward what is next.

What was cursed, we will cure.

What was plagued, we will prove pure.

Where we tend to argue, we will try to agree,

Those fortunes we forswore, now the future we foresee, 

Where we weren't aware, we're now awake;

Those moments we missed

Are now these moments we make,

The moments we meet,

And our hearts, once all together beaten,

Now all together beat.

Come, look up with kindness yet,

For even solace can be sourced from sorrow. 

We remember, not just for the sake of yesterday, 

But to take on tomorrow.

We heed this old spirit,

In a new day's lyric,

In our hearts, we hear it:

For auld lang syne, my dear, 

For auld lang syne.

Be bold, sang Time this year, 

Be bold, sang Time,

For when you honor yesterday, 

Tomorrow ye will find.

Know what we've fought

Need not be forgot nor for none.

It defines us, binds us as one, 

Come over, join this day just begun. 

For wherever we come together, 

We will forever overcome.

End



   
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(@journeywithme2)
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Joined: 6 years ago
Posts: 1911
 

As soon as I read it I was so moved that I had to share and when I signed on ..this page came up and you were speaking of the poems...so I felt compelled to share it here. Hugs!



   
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 CC21
(@cc21)
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Joined: 8 years ago
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I just ran across this poem online and it really resonated about our current time:

Do you ever feel spiritually

that something is happening.

Not only slowly and in season
 
but something like a tipping,
 
a humanity at the verge
 
wanting something different.
 
- Ana Lisa de Jong, Turning Point
 


   
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(@jeanne-mayell)
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@cc21 I read your poem and it wasn’t enough to just click “like”. Then I went to the poet’s webpage. She lives on a south sea island and it seems that she sits around all day observing the exquisite details of nature.  I want to be there with her in that observation.  

Most all, her poem has stated plainly what is happening now.  So thank you. 



   
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(@ghandigirl)
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Joined: 8 years ago
Posts: 1093
 

Let America Be America Again

 
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
 
(America never was America to me.)
 
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.
 
(It never was America to me.)
 
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.
 
(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")
 
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
 
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.
 
I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!
 
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.
 
Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home—
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."
 
The free?
 
Who said the free?  Not me?
Surely not me?  The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay—
Except the dream that's almost dead today.
 
O, let America be America again—
The land that never has been yet—
And yet must be—the land where everyman is free.
The land that's mine—the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME—
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.
 
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!
 
O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath—
America will be!
 
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain—
All, all the stretch of these great green states—
And make America again!
 
Langston Hughes, "Let America be America Again" from The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes.  Copyright © 1995 by Langston Hughes.  Reprinted by permission of Harold Ober Associates, Inc.
 
 


   
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(@ghandigirl)
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Joined: 8 years ago
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@coyote

RIP

This is helpful and exactly what I needed to hear. Hope that this is true for you also. 

 

 



   
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