142 thoughts on “Calla Lily

  1. No sé por qué el Feed me avisa de una entrada tuya cada dos meses… Fuera de eso, entrar aquí y seguir viendo tanta belleza y calidad nunca deja de sorprender. Todo, hoy, es maravilloso, la foto, perfecta; la cita de (mi adorado) Nietzsche, tan bella como la imagen.
    Lo bueno de entrar cada tanto es que así no corro el riesgo de cansarte con tanto halago.

    Abrazo.

  2. My Heart Needs A Home

    Doesn’t yours? Roaming Merrie Woods and Toxaway Falls
    where kayaks glide, cattails distend into cottony seed puffs,
    we discover the essence of each other. Photos snapped as wind
    comes to sailing level entertain beneath Jackson’s half dome.
    Gems, but mostly agates, sit underground, along river beds,
    few found. Lips feel the feathery touch of willow, tangled
    hair straightens at fingers command, knees bent, prone to the
    correct angle to capture sunbathing elder who reads as he sits
    in an Adirondack chair on the eastern continental divide, three
    thousand four hundred eighty six feet, make it eighty five,
    above sea level. Black bear images at first fool newcomers,
    into serenity, but the live scroungers will be around in person.
    This is where it all begins. Doe emerges below newly stained
    deck, wobbles, shakes off mom’s sticky womb extras. Walking
    the lake trail, finding the right overlook, slipping on mossy rocks,
    launching tomorrow today. Misunderstandings disappear when
    genuine care initiates a navigational victory on the Blue Ridge
    looking south to the Smokeys, in the servants’ staircase, among
    well-planted gardens, over festive lunch, a metaphor of chicken,
    enjoyed with the self esteem of roast beef on gluten-free bread.

    Well, how does this one hit you?

  3. Aren’t you due for a new post? I have nothing new to like, and your clever site doesn’t have archives I can plow through, so I have to click the back button 157 times to get to something I haven’t liked already. Out with it.. Even a reblog of your own stuff would suffice, my love.

  4. Pingback: Amar es florecer | Junior Pablo

  5. Genocide, Slavery, Greed

    We cry for the slavery that led to such wealth,

    This is not just the land of the free.

    We witness genocide all over this earth.

    What can we do to end greed?

    We cry for the land, full of modified crops

    We must work to save human life.

    What will our grandchildren have to live through

    Since our appetite causes such strife?

    The oil wars that started a decade ago

    Have moved toward the Caspian Sea.

    We are the dissidents, loud, without fear,

    Even if we are cut at the knees.

    We cry for the news they keep off TV,

    The grapevine could snap any day.

    Disinformation is the age we live in,

    So who’s going to show us the way?

    The answer is simple, we grow as a team,

    A new brotherhood in the light.

    We must build the village, invite all your friends,

    This is no time to give up the fight!

    They have all the bombs, the juntas abound,

    Monsanto is spraying the poor.

    We must dig our hands into arable land

    Or genetics will foul every spore.

    Profit mongers have sucked the earth dry,

    We must reclaim all that we can.

    Industrial China, the last frontier,

    Soon money will own every man.

    The kids on the streets are locked-down together,

    Push a bike, and you could get ten years!

    All this is forced because we stopped caring,

    Yet some offer blood, sweat and tears.

    We couldn’t stop bosses from shipping our jobs,

    The replacement is for-profit jails.

    Our schools are rotting, so teach if you can,

    Where it counts, not Harvard or Yale.

    The time is upon us, united as friends

    We can make anything grow.

    Come join the party, sing and dance all the day,

    Tomorrow we get out the vote.

    We cry for the genocide, slavery, greed

    That persists after thousands of years.

    It’s late, but there’s time, if we really work hard

    We can stop the torrent of tears.

  6. Christmas 2006 (7?, 8?, 9?…2012)

    (All Together now, in Chipmunk-esque squeals, just like Alvin and the Chipmunks have sung it since the 60s)

    Christmas comes but once a year,
    soldiers bloodied, Mother’s tears,
    bombs exploding in the air,
    it’s Christmas everywhere!

    Barons sipping booze or tea,
    greed leads to frivolity,
    one man’s toil is another-kids toy,
    it’s Christmas in Hanoi.

    Farm girls walk to city lights,
    paddies shimmer by moonlight,
    no one left to grow rice high,
    it’s Christmas in Shanghai.

    Now she sits at sewing machines,
    making clothes for Wal-Mart Queens
    she takes home a buck a day,
    it’s Christmas in Bombay. (Mumbai)

    One hundred forty hour weeks,
    raped and left no food to eat,
    import maids, Sri Lanka’s poor,
    it’s Christmas Singapore.

    Catholic Mass in Spanish here,
    Argentina has great fear
    The IMF has had their say
    Guess who is going to pay?

    Now the Dems have won their seats
    still no nerve to scream “impeach,”
    It seems they’re also on the take,
    Which SUCKS for goodness sake!

    Bush is set on World War three
    claims tax cuts will set us free
    Look, a tear in Laura’s eye
    The Whitehouse is a sty.

    Habeas Corpus is long gone
    Now King George can have his fun
    The law was passed here just in time
    To root-out left-wing slime.

    Osama thumbs his princely nose
    Knowing Dad is Bush’s Bro,
    The oil secured keeps China at bay
    It’s Christmas all the way.

    Now Osama’s dead and gone
    Who will be the next war pawn?
    Syria, Libya, Iran, no WAIT!
    Christmas is way past late.

    Barack Obama’s our new man
    He spreads the war to Pakistan,
    Drones are flying up above
    Spreading Christmas love.

    So go out and shop some more
    Buy something from every store
    The fascist status quo gains power
    with every shopping hour.

    Christmas comes but once a year,
    Bloodied soldiers, Mother’s tears,
    bombs exploding in the air
    it’s Christmas everywhere!

    Bombs exploding in the air
    It’s Christmas everywhere!

  7. Reblogged this on SUSANNE LEIST and commented:
    Calla Lily
    Image | Posted on 10/19/2015 by Leyla
    “I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.”
    ― Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

    Calla Lily

  8. The bud
    stands for all things,
    even those things that don’t flower,
    for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
    though sometimes it is necessary
    to reteach a thing its loveliness,
    to put a hand on its brow
    of the flower
    and retell it in words and in touch
    it is lovely
    until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing.
    ~ by Galway Kinnnell, “St. Francis and the Sow”

  9. Whenever I see something pretty, I take sooo many pics. I found some pretty wildflowers and couldn’t help but take a few shots. Well, more like 36 shots, heh, they were pretty! 🙂

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