6/9/2017 – “Madness”

“Madness” – By: Muse

Madness

(Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma…)

I, I can’t get these memories out of my mind,
And some kind of madness has started to evolve.
(Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma…)
And I, I tried so hard to let you go,
But some kind of madness is swallowing me whole, yeah
(Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma…)

I have finally seen the light,
And I have finally realized
What you mean.

Ooh oh oh

And now I need to know is this real love,
Or is it just madness keeping us afloat?
(Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma…)
And when I look back at all the crazy fights we had,
Like some kind of madness was taking control, yeah
(Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma…)

And now I have finally seen the light,
And I have finally realized
What you need.

Mmmm…

(Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma…)

But now I have finally seen the end (finally seen the end)
And I’m not expecting you to care (expecting you to care)
But I have finally seen the light (finally seen the light)
I have finally realized (realized)
I need your love
I need your love

Come to me
Just in a dream.
Come on and rescue me.
Yes I know, I can’t be wrong,
And baby, you’re too headstrong.
Our love is
(Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma…)
Madness

DISCLAIMER: I do not own this song/video.

6/5/2017 – When A Woman Loves A Man

When A Woman Loves A Man

When she says Margarita she means Daiquiri.
When she says quixotic she means mercurial.
And when she says, “I’ll never speak to you again,”
She means, “Put your arms around me from behind
As I stand disconsolate at the window.”

He’s supposed to know that.

When a man loves a woman, he is in New York and she is in Virginia.
Or he is in Boston, writing, and she is in New York, reading,
Or she is wearing a sweater and sunglasses in Balboa Park.
And he is raking leaves in Ithaca.
Or he is driving to East Hampton and she is standing disconsolate at the window, overlooking the bay where a regatta of many-colored sails is going on, while he is stuck in traffic on the Long Island Expressway.

When a woman loves a man, they have gone to swim naked in the stream on a glorious July day, with the sound of the waterfall like a chuckle of water rushing over smooth rocks, and there is nothing alien in the universe.

Ripe apples fall about them.
What else can they do but eat?

When he says, “Ours is a transitional era.”
“That’s very original of you,” she replies,
dry as the Martini he is sipping.

They fight all the time
It’s fun
What do I owe you?
Let’s start with an apology
A sign is held up saying “Laughter.”

When a woman loves a man, she wants him to meet her at the airport in a foreign country with a jeep.
When a man loves a woman, he’s there. He doesn’t complain that she’s two hours late and there’s nothing in the refrigerator.

When a woman loves a man, she wants to stay awake.
She’s like a child crying at nightfall because she didn’t want the day to end.

When a man loves a woman, a thousand fireflies wink at him.
The frogs sound like the string section of the orchestra warming up.
The stars dangle down like earrings the shape of grapes.

David Lehman

6/1/2017 – MEASURE OF LOVE

Image result for angel lovers

This is my favorite poem of all time:

MEASURE OF LOVE

If love were measured by farther or far;
Miles from home or a twinkling star.
If love were poured like wine from a jar
Bought from a stall in some twilight bazaar,
Or served on the Host like divine caviar…
That feast goes with us wherever we are.

If love were a gauge marking hours and days,
A kiss or caress, or a passionate gaze.
If love were a stage and upon it sad plays,
Or the lines of a sonnet fixed on a page
Like blood on a bandage, a lock on a cage
Where love is held hostage and meekly obeys.

If love were a castle and desire its gate,
Envy its vassal in dungeons of hate.
Streets of indulgence paved with delight
Where torches of longing burned through the night,
Towers of rapture, gardens of grace,
Could mortals abide such a glorious place?

If love were a precious stone or a gem
Cleverly sewn into some beggar’s hem
To have and to hold, to fondle, caress,
To covet as gold but never to guess
The true measure of love isn’t sterling or carat,
Simply the pleasure to give and to share it

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