Imprints

Imprints: John Lennon 💙

My dad who is a musician, taught me everything about the Beatles. I loved the music and all of their talent, but the genius John Lennon was always my favorite. His solo music for me is unrelenting honesty skirting always hope and serenity in what may come. Remembering a great artist:

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Imprints

Imprints: “Blessed Longing”

Tell no one else, only the wise

For the crowd will sneer at one

I wish to praise what is fully alive,

What longs to flame toward death.

 

When the calm enfolds the love-nights

That created you, where you have been created

A feeling from the Unknown steals over you

While the tranquil candle burns.

 

You remain no longer caught

In the peneumbral gloom

You are stirred and new, you desire

To soar to higher creativity.

 

No distance makes you ambivalent 

You come on wings, enchanted

In such a hunger for light, you

Become the butterfly burnt to nothing

 

So long as you have not lived this:

To die is to become new,

You remain a gloomy guest

On the dark earth.

Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe.

 

 

 

 

 

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Imprints, Uncategorized

Goodbye, Leonard

He inspired the depths of so many artists and empathize with so many downhearted. Made us soar with new understandings of the conditions of the heart.

This week so much was lost. I’ve felt like my whole being has hit rock face and I’m slowly sliding down…granite by granite imbedded…this is what I’ve gained .

Heartache weighs you down but this is what expected when you full of desires and love. It all fades eventually, but I believe the memory can be everlasting because memories don’t have to change.

Thank you Leonard Cohen, for your voice and what you shared with the ones that were listening.

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Earthly voids & Spiritual quest, Uncategorized

Mystic, I Love YOU

The swaying of the train
Mind outta of body
Slipping away
While my head rest upon the cold
Windowpane
Siddhartha in lap
Thunderous tracks
Hypnotic regression
Patched up in chrysalis haven
Collapsed Samsara
My innermost is to dwell with YOU
A tree of fire
A curve of collarbone
A precious gossamer float
Enraptured always by the brazen words of Oberst
In the wavy moonlit movable waters
A secret want
A holiness to fingertips
YOU reveal my deficiency
My entirety, awaits in another expansion

Poem/Naomi Print/Vija Celmins/Music/Conor Oberst

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Mine Na Poems

Heaviness (A Birthday Poem)

How does she begin to feel lighter again?
In this age of heaviness,
Everything weighing her down,
Try to hide the decay,
With excessive makeup.
Trim the fat.
But her eyelids still shut
from afternoon pains,
And the heartaches
still weighs the same.

Hypnotic regression…
A sweet girl of seven.
Unaware, that all her life will be to crave forth what seems lovable and gratifying.
That maturity ceases the climbing of trees and chasing of cats.
To the ascending of worldly success and the approval of at least one man’s glowing eyes.

And at the age of seventy
what reflections will she see?
Lady Plath’s
terrible fish?
Sacks of hefty flesh…
Enlarged pores to pour out life’s toxic gunk of addictions?
Crippling disease…
A memory like a swiss cheese parade?
Or the censored truths?
That the second we are born the body is slipping away.
Just a house for our souls to seek warmth,
To accumulate energies from karmic delays.

What about the here and now?
That carefree is not only a state of mind for a seven year old,
But also for this woman of thirty-four. Until her mental branches
begin to grow into a ruckus,
And she must trim it all back again.
Will she smile with thankfulness at everything that has accumulated
And seize the truth?
That acceptance of impermanence
is a state of grace.

Poem/Photo: Naomi Ruth             Art: Ivan Albright

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Imprints

Imprints:”That Which I Have Done I Did Not Do (The Door)” – Ivan Albright

A recent visit to the Chicago Institute I got to view Ivan Albright’s painting “That Which I Have Done I Did Not Do (The Door).” It invoked the memory of one my favorite quotes from the French poet/philosopher Paul Valery. img_6655

Palais de Chaillot – quote by Paul Valery

“It depends on those who pass
Whether I am a tomb or treasure
Whether I speak or am silent
The choice is yours alone.
Friend, do not enter without desire.”
~ Paul Valery

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Echo Muses 9.

Rattle of Tongues

I know these words are somewhere
down inside me.
Some I held as a child.
Sisters spoke in endless streams
to flood a river.
No room to pour out, no echo to rattle in their ears.
Locked up for years.
My mouth felt like the arroya split.
Until we met near the December pines.
You pushed me out into that frozen lake.
My mouth filled up in frost.
When I spoke, my words emerged slowly, like icy swirling ghosts.
You were the miracles in those days.
The founder of my blue heart.
The day you left Vincent,
was the day I lost my voice again.
I long for my rattle,
To speak endlessly, while you smile back at me.

Photograph: Talking to Vince, Francesca Woodman

Poem: Nara

 

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Lyrics that play over

Lyrics that play over:                       I remember 

“And the way you sang it to me

So many times in other forms

On distant lands.
I remember your smile

And the way you sent it to me

So many times through different air

It lives inside my heart.
It is a dream

You and me

It can’t be real

I never felt a wind

So happy, so warm

That sent seven little red birds up my spine

Singing…”

Lyrics Julee Cruise

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