Archive for the ‘ ONE DAY ’ Category


2 Tough and Crazy people get together and consider life through the Oracle of the Animated Gif. They contemplate the darkness of a moonless night. Some nights seem a little darker than others.


by Lord Byron

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went–and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill’d into a selfish prayer for light:


I built a bridge out of nowhere,
across nothingness and wondered
if there would be something on the other side.
I built a bridge out of fog,
across darkness and hoped that
there would be light on the other side.
I built a bridge out of despair,
across oblivion and knew that
there would be hope on the other side.
I built a bridge out of hell,
across chaos and trusted that
there would be strength on the other side





At evening casual flocks of pigeons make
Ambiguous undulations as they sink
Downward to darkness, on extended wings.
– – – -Wallace Stevens “Sunday Morning”








 Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness.
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another.
Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and a silence.
– – – -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “Tales of a Wayside Inn”






From Upanishads;

Brahman is the whole world.

Thou art the dark-blue bird and the green parrot with red eyes, Thou hast the lightning as thy child. Thou art the seasons and the seas. Having no beginning, thou dost abide with all-pervadingness, Wherefrom all beings are born.

What to do if they fall:

Stand her up.Stay with her.
wail of the ambulance
……… is not reporting you to the police

She slurs, cries out:
‘the blue fire is coming’
then: “If I fall, don’t…’

Go with her up in the laneway
She might fall again;
bleeding on darkness.

John Stokes









2 Tough and Crazy people get together and consider life through the Oracle of the Animated Gif. They contemplate SUNDAYS. The Wee Lass rang and talked a while. The Morning Meeting was quiet and calm until the American girl swept through in her savagery. The DOS replaced the light globe abd fixed the latch on the front door screen and she was reminded of Pottsville Beach days and made plans for Madeline’s 4th birthday present. HE is still in the FAR NORTH playing music and camping out. SHE is in singlet and baggy pants at Home. SUNDAY. SHABBOS.



Not only is there no God, but try finding a plumber on Sunday.
Alcuin (Albinus)



Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
Susan Ertz

Death is the mother of beauty.
–   Wallace Stevens, Sunday Morning, 1915



"Each leaf,
each blade of grass
vies for attention.
Even weeds
carry tiny blossoms
to astonish us."
-  Marianne Poloskey, Sunday in Spring

The true beloveds of this world are in their lover’s eyes  lilacs opening, ship lights, school bells, a landscape,  remembered conversations, friends, a child’s Sunday,  lost voices, one’s favorite suit, autumn and all seasons,  memory, yes, it being the earth and water of existence, memory. –   Truman Capote


On a hot listless Sunday afternoon
Of adolescence, on the parapet
Against the pillar, I look lazily
Across the park that’s faded less by summer,
It seems, than from the day’s inert aversion
To the principle of colour.

On Sundays on the Continent even the poorest person puts on his best suit, tries to look respectable, and at the same time the life of the country becomes gay and cheerful; in England even the richest peer or motor-manufacturer dresses in some peculiar rags, does not shave, and the country becomes dull and dreary. On the Continent there is one topic which should be avoided – the weather; in England, if you do not repeat the phrase “Lovely day, isn’t it?” at least two hundred times a day, you are considered a bit dull. On the Continent Sunday papers appear on Monday; in England – a country of exotic oddities – they appear on Sunday. On the Continent people use a fork as though a fork were a shovel; in England they turn it upside down and push everything – including peas – on top of it.




Sunday morning Saal in the quaint little Mt Buller chapel was serene and beautiful. The bell pealed out a joyful welcome in the crisp mountain air as we made our way into the church. Invitations for others to join our service had been posted in the Alpine Village well in advance, but no one else came to our little group. Natural rock walls in the chapel contrasted starkly with plush dark-red carpet and the upholstery of gold-framed chairs, but a large, back-lit cross high above the simple altar demanded immediate, attentive silence


2 Tough and Crazy people get together and consider life through the Oracle of the Animated Gif. They contemplate DUSK. The sun has gone down over to the west behind the Hill. Autumn is sweet in the sub-tropics . Later tonight the Moon will come up over the Pacific Ocean and the cows are likely to let loose down in the paddock. Kate and Les’ new dog is apt to bark until they come home from the Bilambil Sports Club and whatever it is that lives in the bottom paddock above the road and the mangoes will start in to shrieking – AFTER DUSK. HE will come home from the Boss’ panelbeating shop where they are rehearsing STICKY GRASS PUDDING for the WINTERMOON in Far North Queensland. DUSK LEADS TO UNSEEN THINGS.

Out in a world of death far to the northward lying,
Under the sun and the moon, under the dusk and the day;
Under the glimmer of starts and the purple of sunsets dying,
Wan and waste and white, stretch the great lakes away.

Never a bud of spring, never a laugh of summer,
Never a dream of love, never a song of bird;
But only the silence and white, the shores that grow chiller and dumber,
Wher’ever the ice winds sob, and the griefs of winter are heard.

Crags that are black and wet out of the grey lake looming,
Under the sunset’s flush and the pallid, faint glimmer of dawn;
Shadowy, ghost-like shores, where midnight surfs are booming
Thunders of wintry woe over the spaces wan.

Wifred Campbell, The Winter Lakes

Heat lingers
As days are still long;
Early mornings are cool
While autumn is still young.
Dew on the lotus
Scatters pure perfume;
Wind on the bamboos
Gives off a gentle tinkling.
I am idle and lonely,
Lying down all day,
Sick and decayed;
No one asks for me;
Thin dusk before my gates,
Cassia blossoms inch deep.

Po Chu-i (772-864), Autumn Coolness
Translated by Howard S. Levy and Henry Wells

“At all seasons the coming of dusk has its spell upon the imagination. Even in cities it puts something of silence into the turmoil, something of mystery into the commonplace aspect of the familiar and the day-worn. The shadow of the great change that accompanies the passage of day is as furtive and mysterious, as swift and inevitable, amid the traffic of streets as in aisles of the forest, or in glens and on hills, on shores, or on the sea. It is everywhere the hour of suspense. Day has not receded into the confused past, already a shadow in eternity, and night has not yet come out of the unknown. Instinctively one feels as though crossing an invisible bridge over a gulf, perchance with troubled glances at the already dimming shore behind, or with dreaming eyes or watchful or expectant gaze on the veiled shore upon which we are almost come.”
From The Coming Of Dusk by Fiona Macleod

Po Chu-Yi

At dawn I sighed to see my hairs fall;
At dusk I sighed to see my hairs fall.
For I dreaded the time when the last lock should go…
They are all gone and I do not mind at all!
I have done with that cumbrous washing and getting dry;
My tiresome comb is forever laid aside.
Best of all, when the weather is hot and wet,
To have no top-knot weighing down on one’s head!
I put aside my messy clothy wrap;
I have got rid of my dusty tasselled fringe.
In a silver jar I have stored a cold stream,
On my bald pate I trickle a ladle full.
Like on baptized with the Water of Buddha’s Law,
I sit and receive this cool, cleansing joy.
Now I know why the priest who seeks Repose
Frees his heart by first shaving his head

I’ve known rivers ancient as the world
And older than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.

I built my hut near the Congo and it Lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi
when Abe Lincoln went down to New
Orleans, and I’ve seen its muddy bosom
turn all golden in the sunset.

I’ve known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul; has grown deep like the rivers.
Langston Hughes

The Book of Werewolvesby Sabine Baring-Gould

Thord and his companion were opposed to Skallagrim in the game, and they were too much for him, he wearied, and the game went better with them. But at dusk, after sunset, it went worse with Egill and Thord, for Skallagrim became so strong that he caught up Thord and cast him down, so that he broke his bones, and that was the death of him.

A Blessing for the Day


May the God of the dawn awaken you
May the God of sunrise stir you up
May the God of morning bless your work
May the God of noon renew your strength
May the God of sunset bring you home
May the God of dusk soothe your soul
May the God of night bring you rest.

© Adapted from a blessing by ~Andrew Greeley


2 Tough and Crazy people get together and consider life through the Oracle of the Animated Gif. They contemplate NIGHT. Some nights seem very dark without a real reason for doing so. Some nights bring the edge of madness whilst some bring the comfort of darkness .

For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food, for love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

When I heard the learn’d astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns
before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide
and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with
much applause in the lecture room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
– Walt Whitman

“Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the night.”- Helen Keller

Don’t try to solve serious matters in the middle of the night.

To Night

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Swiftly walk o’er the western wave,
Spirit of Night!
Out of the misty eastern cave,
Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,
Which make thee terrible and dear-
Swift be thy flight!

Wrap thy form in a mantle gray,
Blind with thine hair the eyes of day;
Kiss her until she be wearied out,
Then wander o’er city, and sea, and land,
Touching all with thine opiate wand-
Come, long-sought!

When I arose and saw the dawn,
I sighed for thee;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flowers and tree,
And the weary day turned to his rest,
Lingering like an unloved guest,
I sighed for thee.

Thy brother Death came, and cried,
Wouldst thou me?
Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,
Murmured like a noontide bee,
Shall I nestle near why side?
Wouldst thou me? – And I replied,
No, not thee!

Death will come when thou art dead,
Soon, too soon-
Sleep will come when thou art fled;
Of neither would I ask the boon
I ask of thee, beloved Night-
Swift be thine approaching flight,
Come soon, soon!

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.

“Well, how do you tell when night has ended?”

The rabbi answered: “It is when you look on the face of any man or woman and

you see them as your brother or sister. If you cannot do this, then, no matter what time it is, it is still night.”

The drone bee dies soon after the wedding night.


2 Tough and Crazy people get together and consider life through the Oracle of the Animated Gif. They contemplate the end of the day. The Sunset. Can’t really see them from here. The hills are between the Cottage and the West. The skies colours. We CAN see that. The clouds streak against the strange nothern blue. In Tumbulgum, she could see the sunset over Mt Warning and across the Junction of the Tweed and the Rous. The Sun Sets.

There’s no pleasure on earth that’s worth sacrificing for the sake of an extra five years in the geriatric ward of the Sunset Old People’s Home, Weston-Super-Mare.
Horace Rumpole

Felix Adler:

Religion is a wizard, a sibyl . . .
She faces the wreck of worlds, and prophesies restoration.
She faces a sky blood-red with sunset colours that deepen into darkness, and prophesies dawn.
She faces death, and prophesies life.

Just as we could have rode into the sunset, along came the Internet, and it tripled the significance of the PC.
— Andy Grove—

I found this poem on this site :

You Are Poetry !!!

You come outside
To view the faint sunset
Light bewildered by trees
Shines through quietly
You glide your soft auburn hair
Perched behind your ear
And in this moment I feel at home
Beneath the interior
You are my humble abode…
Your company is soothing
Calming and reassuring
Inside, the wind chimes ring
You saunter and my hearts sings
Bit by bit I begin to recognize
The enchanting glow in your subtle eyes
Hidden in all abstract paintings
It’s you; what all artists see
You are poetry…

~ Cody Graham.

If I can put one touch of rosy sunset into the life of any man or woman, I shall feel that I have worked with God.”
— George MacDonald

No matter where we are no matter how far apart we will always have the sunset. So when you look at it know that when I look at the sunset and behold it’s beauty it will remind me of you, and rest assured that I will never forget how much I love you. For in my heart you will always be with me.

“Unwarmed by any sunset light, the grey day darkened into night.” ~John Greenleaf Whittier~

%d bloggers like this: