"this gray spirit yearning in desire"

"How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As though to breath were life. Life piled on life
Were all to little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought."

"The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in the 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."

Quotations from Ulysses in Odyssey III.

Just the words I needed to hear.

Clock's ticking boy,…gotta make good

Walking down the forest...You’ve been walking for a while; could be days, or months or years. Presently, something catches your eyes. Something like ...a pot. There,...on the ground. What is it made of? Is it shiny?

Its a clay pot. So what do you do with it? Nothing? Don’t you want to pick it up? Take it with you? No? Okay then.

It’s a shabby li’l clay pot. And you don’t even want that.

…………

Years later...

----

Didn’t think you’d be here, but here you are! Again! Through no fault or credit of your own. May be it was what they say it is. Its all written. Hell, you probably wrote it yourself!

So, how much of it did you really write you think? I mean, seriously, do you even have a clue? Tell me then, Where you are? Now? Whats that? You don't know where exactly? You don’t know for sure? LOL!

Boy, boy, boy! Wasn’t that supposed to be your 'super power'? Knowing whats what, despite the size and shape and smell or boxes they come in? Tsk! tsk! tsk! This is a little disappointing.

Painted yourself into a tight little spot. Haven’t you? Right! That we don’t know yet. Heck, for all you know, you never even picked up a paint brush to begin with. It probably doesn’t matter,...whether you’ve done it, or not. Things happened anyway. That much is true? And they happened, not just for you, but for the world around you. How is it now? Your own corner of the world?

It looks a li’l messed up. Doesn’t it? Your mind, your body, your home, your family, your friends, your newspaper headlines,…looks a bit shabby. Eh? Now, you can’t possibly be blamed! You’d done nothing. Have you? Or whatever you’ve done, your intentions were pure? I mean, as pure as anyone’s. No need to get all defensive. Noone’s judging.

Whats that? You never had a chance? Oh ho ho! You know that’s not true. You did nothing wrong? Okay, lets say that much is true. Did you do it right? Or do at all to begin with? Lol…

A lot of cleaning up to do boy. Not for you to do. But then again, it is your reality. You decide what to do. If you think it needs cleaning up, well,...you'd better find a mop. How much you can do? Well, not much of course! Probably nothing at all. Then again, it is Your reality.

It is upto you what kinda pot you want…or what you want to do with it. But you got to walk upto it...on your own two feet...you gotta put in the miles. You've got to find it…see it for yourself…and then, make your choice. Only then you can make for the exit,…pot in hand or not…, but you got to be there first.

Otherwise, you end up going in circles. Round and round a shabby li’l pot, never really knowing whats in it, never knowing whether to keep it, or to give it away…never knowing how to get out,...never moving on...

So, you need one more chance. You got all the chances you want. As long as you are there…you got ‘em….and then some. Perhaps you could use a little help figuring out how to make good on all that. Everyone does I suppose…and you do too.

A li’l tricky, getting help – figuring out what to ask for, who to ask…how to ask and then, how to take it. Very tricky indeed! Especially for you boy…I know. But its better if you do it, better if you do it now. Clock's ticking boy,…You gotta make good.

original story

There is no such thing…as an original story
None of it is made up
Its all something that you’ve seen
Dreamt about
Or known all along
You’ve been there…even if you don know when.

We are gathered here to witness
The final act
The last performance
Of the play
This however, is hardly the end…
there will be other plays.
But for now, from what I hear,
You r in for a treat.

We are all here…eager to hear
The stories that were never told
Stories we knew
Before time, But for the time,
time forgot.

The world has its heroes
All 1’s and 0’s
Not sure who’se winning tho
Wonder how things turn gray
Even when the dress code is strictly black and white.

As for me, I don’t know it any better
But then again, may b I do…as do u.

Like I said, I don’t know
But guess what tho…
Sometimes…a lot of times…
It all comes together
And the contradictions rest in perfect harmony
When I sit down at tea
With the holy trinity –

The old body
The young heart
And ancient soul

It all makes pefect sense,
Even tho I got no clue
None what so ever

Voodoo blues

it takes a voodoo woman
To get me goin
O it’s a voodoo woman
Who gets me there
Its a voodoo woman
I sit up and notice
Only a voodoo woman
C’d make me care.

She’s gotta know
Gotta know,
Gotta know
know the magic right
o get it just right

Come voodoo woman
Come take my hand
I’m your magic man baby
It was me all along.
You need me as I need you
U know this much is true
Aint nobody can make it
Make it the way we do
So, Come take my hand woman
Lets c this through

come do your thing woman
do it
do it
do it
the way u only can