WORDS *

                

“Anger is an acid 

that can do more harm 

to the vessel in which it is stored 

than to anything 

on which it is poured.”

                                - Mark Twain

 

"When you're finished changing, you're finished."   -Ben Franklin

‘If you’re going through hell, keep going.’ ~Winston Churchill

via:http://zenhabits.net/bumps/

Dear person reading this,

You're here because you're actively procrastinating or avoiding real work, aren't you? It's OK...me too.

Sincerely, I'll work tomorrow

                                               via : http://dearblankpleaseblank.com/index.php

Dear God,

Thanks for creating dreams. They make sleeping so much more fun.

Sincerely, just completed my CIA mission and rode my unicorn off into the sunset.

via : http://dearblankpleaseblank.com/index.php

via www never-stop-dreaming-rose.tumblr.com 8

The Words of Steve Jobs

Almost everything--all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure--these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart. - Steve Jobs

http://www.ted.com/talks/steve_jobs_how_to_live_before_you_die.html

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”
Steve Jobs

On Love and Barley – Haiku of Basho

I chanced upon a book of haiku poetry which is so beautiful that for me it has at some level changed the way I see and look at things and life and nature and my world around me. 

Using just a few words carefully arranged in 3 lines, these poems capture and distill transient moments in life. The brevity and spare ness of these compositions invite you to complete the picture with your imagination. (Which I think is what creates the magic).
Known as the poetry of nature, each poem evokes the natural world the drama of nature, the smallness of us in comparison and the transient nature of life.
 
In the words of R.H. Blyth : "A haiku is the expression of a temporary enlightenment in which we see into the life of things."

From the book
On Love and Barley – Haiku of Basho
Translated by Lucien Stryk  - Penguin Classics

A few of my favorites ……

Spring night,
Cherry –
Blossom dawn

                                                                                                Spring’s exodus –
                                                                                                Birds shriek,
                                                                                                Fish eye blinks tears.

 Ebb tide –
Willows
Dip to mud 

                                                                                               Sparrows in eaves,
                                                                                               Mice in ceilings –
                                                                                               Celestial music

Winter downpour –
Even the monkey
Needs a raincoat.

                                                                                               Butterfly –
                                                                                               wings curve into
                                                                                               white poppy. 

Wake, butterfly –
it’s late, we’ve miles
to go together 

                                                                                              Early autumn –
                                                                                              rice field, ocean,
                                                                                              One green.

Clouds –
a chance to dodge
moon-viewing.
                                                                                              Peony –
                                                                                              the bee can’t bear
                                                                                              to part.

Cicada – did it
chirp till it
knew nothing else? 
                                                                                              Rainy days –
                                                                                              silkworms droop
                                                                                              on mulberries

Year’s end, all
Corners of this
Floating world, swept.

                                                                                              Autumn – even
                                                                                              birds and clouds
                                                                                              look old.

Orchid  - breathing
incense into
butterfly’s wings

                                                                                               Loneliness –
                                                                                               caged cricket dangling
                                                                                               from the wall.

Dawn-scaling –
a whitefish, with an
inch of whiteness.

                                                                                              Irises blooming
                                                                                              from my feet –
                                                                                              sandals laced in blue.

Fish shop –
how cold the lips
of salted bream. 
                                                                                               From the heart
                                                                                               of the sweet peony,
                                                                                               drunken bee.

Dew-drops –
how better wash away
worlds dust?

About Basho ! Basho, is known as the master of haiku, and one of japans greatest poets. He was known to be a Buddhist monk and a compulsive traveler. He changed his name to Basho in honour of the tree given him by a disciple (wide-leafed banana tree rare to Japan).