tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84602466163673695792024-03-13T18:28:16.460+02:00Snippets of LifeDKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-13359139473068148202010-11-13T03:08:00.003+02:002010-12-09T15:49:28.018+02:00[Give a Damn] Colour<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I am not the colour of the paper I write to you on, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I might be less than violet and so much more than saffron. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I am not just pink but the cerise that flows loudly right through me, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">So much more opaque than you could expect me to be. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You thought you knew me,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You thought you could colour-assume me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">But this is not a whine of independence or my anger at you, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">This is my exposure of your inadequate recognition of hue. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You thought you knew what I loved and what I might like, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You assumed I was powerless, an ambivalent and naïve white. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You thought I might like you so you beat me up outside a bar, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Until that evening for me turned to a horrible black char. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You were just nervous and protected an inane feigned anger, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">While your blood flowed unwelcomed hot colours in amber. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You were heated, you were angry, you were unlistening and you were scared, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You were everything your mother taught you not to be while you only saw red. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You made me feel pain so deep I thought I would never forget, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Like unresolved, undecided oil paint on a canvas still wet. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">But whet behind the ears you thought you had resolved your confusion therein, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">While you live inside your victory, you’re only shroud in a resentful green. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">So we walked in different directions and I chose the white dove, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Because you will never ever know the colour of my love. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You are not my type but you thought that because I was gay, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You could excuse your behaviour with areas you deemed grey. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Unacceptable in my world that thrives on colours in kaleidoscope, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">All you do to yourself is tighten that oatmeal coloured neck-rope. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">It’s not ok and I hope you find a brighter path before you sink, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">But know that there is so much more to my world than simply being pink. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We will walk different journeys – I will send you a white dove, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Because you could never ever know the colour of my love. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I am not just your expected pink but a rainbow that flows brightly right through me,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And we are a so much more wonderment than you will ever understand us to be.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjedEfTpJUAPd4iDFrG4Z1ufs3ZlNT_bdOAhvMzYT8J8O5OcExNCo_RYXJ_ZCoXuo3-tRryaa6RRruFlrRPTsdgcKrq5qB5X53-oZtzRvQuzFlBCeazzeUOL5osRgm0y-tdpOOx6CjLCVw/s1600/give-a-damn-logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjedEfTpJUAPd4iDFrG4Z1ufs3ZlNT_bdOAhvMzYT8J8O5OcExNCo_RYXJ_ZCoXuo3-tRryaa6RRruFlrRPTsdgcKrq5qB5X53-oZtzRvQuzFlBCeazzeUOL5osRgm0y-tdpOOx6CjLCVw/s320/give-a-damn-logo.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-53024302808895460292010-09-03T23:10:00.000+02:002010-09-03T23:10:36.529+02:00Under the Milky Way<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I’m just scared </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Scared of being an adult </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Scared of loving and not being loved </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I’m scared because they are older now than they should be </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I am scared because I knew this day would come but didn’t think yet </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I try too hard </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I fall to hard </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I can’t hurdle as well as I think I can </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Or earn as much as I think I can in the expected timespan </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I can’t fix what might not need fixing </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I like to stay awake at night by myself just because </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe it doesn’t mean anything like being up to no-good</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I could sleep and dream or be awake and fantasise </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I fall too hard</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I expect too hard </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I admonish too hard </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I’m already everything I planned I would be…</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Not the actor although always performing </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe they already look at me impressed and wonder why I still think I don’t know what I’m doing </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I try too hard </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I cry too hard </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I am angry </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I don’t know why – </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Why I walk and talk and do silly things for my own regret </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe not </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe he thinks I’m silly too and just keeps going </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Or is he ever-patient and ever-knowing?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Is his big love the same as my big love? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe I don’t accept enough </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When will it stop? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Where will it end?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe when I turn the corner and things are just different… </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Maybe </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-63267875094189323732010-08-24T16:58:00.000+02:002010-08-24T16:58:21.535+02:00Who you were in smaller clothesWhere did it come from,<br />
this great big alarm?<br />
This inside crucifying, <br />
doing my personality this harm? <br />
<br />
It bore from things outside of my control, <br />
and now it gnaws at me like a hungry troll. <br />
I never asked it to be a crutch, or a need for the pill, <br />
so why does it taunt me so, from the window sill? <br />
<br />
It makes me forget, about the magic I see, <br />
it depletes the oxygen from the fire in me. <br />
By forcing me to focus on so much else, <br />
replacing my personality with grey ghoul of ghost. <br />
<br />
The flickers of my greatness sit behind steel gates,<br />
kept away from me by that same spate of hate – <br />
that links me to my past and debilitates my now, <br />
refusing me by I to allow myself to grow. <br />
<br />
They say it is only I who holds myself back, <br />
they might be right and I’ll try to learn from all that. <br />
But I confess that I may still have my doubts, <br />
they live long in the darkness and depths of the cuts. <br />
<br />
<br />
They don’t just breeze away like clouds in the wind, <br />
it takes a lot more than that, to truly and fully mend. <br />
It can take notepads and music and books to find the fire, <br />
and even more of all this, to no longer walk the wire. <br />
<br />
<br />
But I hope I find the key to those horrible big gates, <br />
because I’m bored of this constricting, anger and hate. <br />
it lets up at times feeding us glimmers of hope,<br />
but then it simply giggles at me, and then tightens the rope. <br />
<br />
<br />
It makes me want to ask… <br />
<br />
<br />
Do you really think that we have time? <br />
While we plot this map to a fanciful sublime? <br />
A place where Tink walks ink footprints on a map, <br />
where we never grow old, or we ever agree to that? <br />
<br />
<br />
Where your head actually clears and you can smell the air, <br />
when you forgive the baggage and let go of despair? <br />
When you remember who you were in smaller clothes, <br />
without forgetting where it is that you still want to go? <br />
<br />
<br />
When you think about playgrounds and music forever, <br />
those are the same thoughts that you always promised to treasure. <br />
But getting caught up in today is the hefty price, <br />
a bigger risk always than just throwing the dice. <br />
<br />
<br />
So maybe just go back to the pure and the simple, <br />
to innocent moments and that juvenile dimple. <br />
to a time you know you exhibited honest love,<br />
when you felt that satisfying warmth on your heart like a glove.<br />
<br />
<br />
That place that you know, you know still exists, <br />
on your palm, for your life and in your heart’s history books. <br />
It never goes away or really forgets about you, <br />
it’s only you who needs to know, what you want to do… <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Dylan Balkind ©DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-89244636944581597802010-03-09T10:58:00.000+02:002010-03-09T10:58:41.719+02:00In the shadows of your den<b></b>Storms unleashed with an evil kiss, <br />
in an eon of uncertainty while the darkness hissed. <br />
It was certainly not great or even just a little bit sublime, <br />
this was the mess that was 2009. <br />
<br />
I grew and I fought but I didn’t necessarily have to like it, <br />
I stared blankly back at faces who told me I would survive it. <br />
I didn’t ask for a war with the Universe herself, <br />
I wanted to walk through it coolly, without any strife. <br />
<br />
But we don’t always get what we want and there’s no guarantee we ever will, <br />
while we sit on the abysmal 2009 windowsill. <br />
But hopefully only abysmal while you look back on the mess, <br />
quite clear of murk and only gleaming optimism for the rest. <br />
<br />
So, you ask for hardiness in your new army of men, <br />
the army that will make up your empowered thoughts for 2010. <br />
There will be no more flirting with the dark ego itself, <br />
your humility will abandon your pride and put its arrogance on the shelf. <br />
<br />
Look after yourself a little more in the months to come, <br />
more about actual care and feelings – and less about the gun. <br />
The gun you shot off too often and always far too loudly, <br />
while you walked through 2009 misinformed and all proudly. <br />
<br />
And no more trampling on your souls fragile boundary fence, <br />
and no more daring evil kisses with uninformed confidence. <br />
But be sure to lose nothing while you heal in the shadows of your den, <br />
and be only a wiser and happier self as you face 2010. <br />
<br />
A new day and a year that will be completely sunny and fine, <br />
certainly more than great and so much more than sublime. <br />
For 2009 is gone and I am ready to walk in – <br />
to a happier and healthier space as I face 2010.DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-7991011584631933572009-11-18T22:52:00.004+02:002009-12-07T12:16:27.216+02:001999<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was 1999 and you could smell it. When the river met the sunset and the water met the edge. Orange in colour. In air. In feel. And on your skin. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When the people you were with were more than family and the things you heard were more than lessons. They were fables shared and memories in the making. When holidays were journeys of the soul… and the mind… and they transcended its own boundaries. When the people who were there then – and who are not here now – shared moments we never thought would go away. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was 1999 and you could smell it. Computers were about to die and we were on the Orange River. Calculators were about to be confused with their own programming and we didn’t give a shit. We thought about sunscreen, swimming, capsizing and a safe place to sleep at night. We wondered how not to be wimps, while being wimps. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was when friendships were being formed, reformed… and engagements were fresh; where personalities were incarnate and no pretences were upheld… when people had responsibilities and responsibilities were being ignored – on purpose.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was 1999 and I was new. Obnoxious. Arrogant. All-knowing… but new. New in my skin. A skin that only then had a name… And a new way in how it was then negotiating an avenue to present itself, its personality, my walk, my talk. How I held my eyes and where they “did not look”. (The guide was an attractive Adonis of a man – you must know.) </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was 1999 and the first and last change of millennium we will ever traverse. Jean. Sandra. Barry. Mags. Shelly. Patrick. Niki. Glenn. Kim. Jason. Mel. Ant. Richard. Lynette. Terry. Viv. Karen… and me. On a way through life we could never have imagined; floating through some issues and rapidly through others. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was 1999 and you could smell it. You still can if you try hard enough. Raw, vigilant yet friendly times where people listened without listening and swam without having to keep their heads above water. It was 1999 and it was what it was. Just that. Just great times. Just a journey. Just a spectacular leap of faith for those who thought they couldn’t do it and did – and those who thought they knew they could and didn’t quite…</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was 1999 and you could smell it. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I still try. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Do you? </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">© Dylan Balkind 2009 </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-27529833143193572009-11-18T15:35:00.005+02:002009-11-18T16:15:58.119+02:00Baskets of happiness<span style="font-family: georgia;">Your energy is a decision that has the strength to be relentless, immeasurable and unmatchable. Your naivety is beautiful and its innocence can be invigorating, illuminating and most of all pure. The only decisions we should be worried about, are those to be open and a willingness to engage, receive and appreciate that our inexperience is an offering rather than a crutch.<br />
<br />
Building paper houses on the beach where the tide washes in is the same sense of fragility we negotiate everyday; a tight rope between feeling creatively good about ourselves while being subject to impulses, urges and the whim of those who share in our space and our time.<br />
<br />
So… it is not always easy <strong>not</strong> to get involved… But… your senses are your God-given gifts that reward you with the prize of being able to be tangible with your surrounds and the personalities that you connect with daily. Collect only the good stuff that carries the glitter and the magic into your life and put it into your basket of happiness to take with you on your own snippets-of-life journey - to wherever it is you are going. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
© Dylan Balkind 2009DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-72806943229825024612009-11-16T11:09:00.005+02:002009-11-18T15:47:46.550+02:00Each day - its own surprise<span style="font-family:georgia;">Between cooking, birthdays, gatherings, movies and more cooking – I realised this weekend what a blessing it is to have people in your life – who actually matter. I won’t say I have never felt lonely, but in retrospect that has only been because of a self serving need for having something to complain about. It’s been easy to complain about people and how they might let you down, or disappoint you or not be there. But then you see who is and that you are still blessed in that.<br /><br />There’s only one month to go before we hit the road for a two week break in Hermanus… doing nothing! I have never looked forward to doing nothing as much as I do right now. To read and relax and eat seafood and drink wine and hang out with people or avoid them at all costs; each day will be its own surprise.<br /><br />I think it has been a hell of a year. And although some of the transforming went down like razor blades, and that it is maybe only over the last week that I am feeling the results, its warming to feel that I got here. And got back. Back to that unrelenting optimism I used to have and carry about me like wares on my journey. I lost it somewhere along the way in the melee to be in front. But I found it again; and here I am.<br /><br />Hello world. I’m changed but still me. And thrilled that each day is its own surprise. </span><br /><br /><br />© Dylan Balkind 2009DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-81874106175511388332009-08-05T09:18:00.004+02:002009-11-18T15:47:33.662+02:00Mags 06.08.1978<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCc3f4QtTB7JYE_xMgGYY-6SN89JfEvKvWWZa0QlU9FrVV2aqKbCR7LunB7bBqo7HiInhfexxqKBHOp7spfrvMSz-HYkqbEJ3z587uQ3_zkNszgmBlPQkJYHLTB3dUaot69X62aGDvp-g/s1600-h/Friends.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 269px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366377327180710770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCc3f4QtTB7JYE_xMgGYY-6SN89JfEvKvWWZa0QlU9FrVV2aqKbCR7LunB7bBqo7HiInhfexxqKBHOp7spfrvMSz-HYkqbEJ3z587uQ3_zkNszgmBlPQkJYHLTB3dUaot69X62aGDvp-g/s400/Friends.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br />You came into my life. You enjoy my CDs,<br />You teach me to seize opportunities.<br />I’ve watched you walk the plank and survive it evermore.<br />I’ve watched you never fear for closing doors.<br /><br />You showed me that some people actually can be real,<br />You shared your love and you taught me how to heal.<br />You taught me to trust again and showed me so many precious things.<br />You taught me your own real meaning of being ‘best friends’.<br /><br />So I’ve learnt…<br /><br />Friends are friends who come over. Over to drink.<br />Drink to chat. Chat to clear the air.<br />Air that needs clearing. Clearing spaces in time, mind, heart and soul.<br />Soul that might be sad or angry. Angry because life isn’t always fair.<br />Fair enough, because who says it ever has to be?<br />Be open when you feel like this because you know.<br />Know this is the best way to reflect you.<br />You that knows, lives, hurts, cries and laughs.<br />Laughs from the inside out whenever given the chance.<br />Chances taken because your subconscious decided.<br />Decided this is how it would be.<br />Be ok because you have security in that.<br />That place you created when you were innocent and young.<br />Young enough not to care about any issues but being bold.<br />Bold enough to live without fear.<br />Fear of maybe never having, losing or being without friends.<br />Friends who come over.<br /><br />I beg you not to change but know you never will,<br />Because your mantra is that life must know your drill.<br />You’re a breeze of fresh air and this is your fuel,<br />You are the most honest person because you are real.<br /><br />You came into my life. You enjoy my CDs,<br />You teach me to seize opportunities.<br />You taught me to trust again and showed me so many precious things.<br />And taught me your own real meaning of being ‘best friends’.<br /><br /><br />© Dylan Balkind 2009DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-10755724325275840742009-02-25T13:20:00.005+02:002009-11-18T15:50:03.940+02:00Wandering from the light<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN2SWnlP9dCXgZJn4y4imgs8xRvvAJCWB7VNTyKXbfN4GUrxqfArLqPREMoo9zy7j5A_kAMWbf9opXaUbcyOdMVBJ5rbY5Qs7iO_w2ePhVO_uqy4Sw832Qvd5bMCfv7Q8FJqh6VZeXIw0/s1600-h/wandering+2.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306693428975453458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN2SWnlP9dCXgZJn4y4imgs8xRvvAJCWB7VNTyKXbfN4GUrxqfArLqPREMoo9zy7j5A_kAMWbf9opXaUbcyOdMVBJ5rbY5Qs7iO_w2ePhVO_uqy4Sw832Qvd5bMCfv7Q8FJqh6VZeXIw0/s320/wandering+2.bmp" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Sometimes you wander from where the light was shining,<br />but find your way back fuelled by your darkened souls pining –<br />For the way you always thought your life would pan out,<br />and now that you’re back you have absolutely no doubt…<br /><br />You did stupid things at all hours of the night,<br />and you made people angry and started many fights.<br />But only because they worried and truly care about you,<br />and no strangers you thought you knew, can ever truly know you…<br /><br />Because it takes time and life to get inside someone’s head,<br />and understand what they love about life – and why they are scared of being dead.<br />What makes them cry while sad, laughing, depressed or happy,<br />and why it is that we never really get out of the nappy…<br /><br />We all have a crutch and a way to exist,<br />while we pretend we are big with such vehement persist.<br />We do things for reactions for ones self or with others,<br />while forgetting so quickly that none of this matters.<br /><br />That the shoes standing on your heart – are probably yours,<br />because you continue to shun reality and close the same old doors.<br />Only inside-your-head can understand why it-is-what-it-is,<br />and that is the funny part, that you actually dread.<br /><br />Let go of insecurity and its best-friend the paranoia squirm,<br />it’s all in your own head, that nobody will confirm.<br />And when you see it like this you will see a new is-what-it-is.<br />Strength, fighting survival and real emotional happiness.<br /><br />And you might wander again from where that light is shining,<br />but you will find your way back by your darkened souls pining –<br />Because you know the way you thought your life would pan out,<br />and you know that coming back, is the only undoing of doubt.<br /><br /><br /><br />© Dylan Balkind 2009DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-1183713733376389182009-01-06T12:25:00.010+02:002009-01-14T12:17:11.323+02:00Stellar Bright<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHDm-A5hsSkiMW2C9wg7EjJAKeRTLKy_nE4Wohr0wq2kYnATaslADVStbOl56qnPD3blpd1g-IMzrZ-BU7gYTa_jSOapBdo-k8r38C9Y8drk7uDX-BhkP0BVTXB368BHKc2GvuckXcgw8/s1600-h/be_unique_01.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHDm-A5hsSkiMW2C9wg7EjJAKeRTLKy_nE4Wohr0wq2kYnATaslADVStbOl56qnPD3blpd1g-IMzrZ-BU7gYTa_jSOapBdo-k8r38C9Y8drk7uDX-BhkP0BVTXB368BHKc2GvuckXcgw8/s320/be_unique_01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288125642231430114" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Frogs croak and firecrackers abound, <br />all I need now is a dozen fireflies around - <br />to make life more like a fairy tale than ever before, <br />but I see that it is what it is, as I stare out from the stage door. <br /><br />Lightning lights up the sky that I’m looking at once again, <br />I see my view has changed while I immersed myself within - <br />a joyful energy and an upbeat rhythm inside, <br />a louder drum beating, keeping this rhythm alive. <br /><br />You know the one, we all do actually, <br />we are closer to our dreams not dwelling on reality. <br />You can make others see it too when you open your eyes, <br />when you step out of the shackles, and shake off the ties. <br /><br /><em><strong>It is the very texture of people that makes us interesting... </strong></em><br /><br />So you write your secret on a postcard and you send it to Frank, <br />and when you do that, there is only one person to thank. <br />The person in the mirror who let go of something deep, <br />and started the uphill walk, not daunted by how steep. <br /><br />Because sometimes life just is, uphill both ways, <br />it is your commitment to the journey that will change you in a way - <br />a way that will remind you just where it is that you came from, <br />while you realign your tempo to the rhythm of a new drum. <br /><br />What's interesting is that we want to be big when we are small, <br />that no matter how big you are, you think you’re never quite tall – <br />tall enough for yourself or maybe a nagging voice within, <br />but never letting on, preserving only the outward grin. <br /><br />You can go to school each day and be drowned within, <br />the gossip and the bullying and the unnecessary chagrin. <br />Some learned times and some very wasted times at that, <br />until it dawns on you that inside you’re quite phat…<br /><br />One day you’ll stop whining and only write about this, <br />seeing the lessons from your past, ensuring that you grow from it. <br />And then they’ll stop gossiping because they can see who you are, <br />a beautiful and stellar bright – star among stars. <br /><br />So if you don’t like me or what I write about here, <br />click to another site and go search elsewhere…<br />For fables about life you know you see yourself in, <br />and surprisingly acknowledge that on your face sits a grin. <br /><br />I’m proud of my journey and the diary’s I keep, <br />on these pages, they’re me, both strong but still weak. <br />I can look back with humility and remember the old me, <br />while I listen to the storm that blows in through the trees. <br /><br />Lightning lights up the sky that I’m looking at once again, <br />I sip on my wine and I hear the start of the rain. <br />Ah... I see your view has changed while you immersed yourself within, <br />and surprisingly you acknowledge that on your face sits a grin. <br /><br />You look back with humility and remember the old you, <br />and make plans to fill yet another pair of original shoes. <br />It is now that you know that we are all the bees knees, <br />while you too listen, to the storm that blows in through the trees...<br /> <br /><br /><br />© Dylan Balkind 2009DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-12830395818541702422009-01-03T13:52:00.001+02:002009-01-03T13:55:04.577+02:00I like this . . .<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's words await another voice.”<br /><br />Little Gidding II</span>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-66259003250649392282008-12-30T10:50:00.006+02:002008-12-30T11:08:11.949+02:00For Kat<div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Blue street. Your street. My street. Ours.<br />A friendship knows no boundaries, but only equal powers.<br />We met one night and made it a late one at that,<br />I’ve never ever forgotten the moment I met Kat.<br /><br />So beautiful, so gentle, so very full of love,<br />a friendship so comfortable and warmer than a sheepskin glove.<br />She’s never grown old or lost her touch or frayed,<br />nothing ever wavered and her friendship decorum stayed.<br /><br />When my heart was sore and I cried all night,<br />she hugged me and reminded me that all would be alright.<br />She drove me to Cape Town and took me away from it all,<br />so that I forgot, and then realised that I was no longer sore.<br /><br />She never tired and she even listened when it got boring,<br />and usually at times when the world around us was snoring.<br />Some people close to me still never get what she does,<br />her presence is my reminder that a friendship is about “us”.<br /><br />Peter you’re an amazing and lucky human being,<br />your blessing is each other and now I know that seeing is believing.<br />And today on your wedding day when I cannot physically be present,<br />I send these words, written from my emotional gradient.<br /><br />Good luck, good love and I wish you everything from above,<br />stay strong for forever and always come back to the love.<br />Blue street. Your street. My street. Ours.<br />Your union will know no boundaries, but only love and equal powers.<br /><br />All the love and care while I wish I could be there… Dylan.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">© Dylan Balkind 2008</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-11332621338402764282008-11-17T14:51:00.005+02:002008-11-17T16:37:05.682+02:00Not In<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_05Tu53K4Y7YA_j9k0HpgqsNugry6vzNHUDk5tqOzm2Rzc-6a1nVNHkwL1Syw8mh4KHMy-my_cRf8SJRxRwndvk9dppklj-QDDsN73jhKlY0oxLsZGR4cSd1ZYJhBXFTu0b-oMfP9B_M/s1600-h/2491-streetlight_nocturne.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269611706600517746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_05Tu53K4Y7YA_j9k0HpgqsNugry6vzNHUDk5tqOzm2Rzc-6a1nVNHkwL1Syw8mh4KHMy-my_cRf8SJRxRwndvk9dppklj-QDDsN73jhKlY0oxLsZGR4cSd1ZYJhBXFTu0b-oMfP9B_M/s320/2491-streetlight_nocturne.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There’s a bird on a fence and a streetlight nearby, there’s a home to one side and some people inside. They’re outside of being inside the problems they don’t know about... but know about. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">They’re blue, yellow, red and green. They watch life through a TV set with no screen. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Mirror. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Five talk, four listen and one sings the song from inside. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It’s Universal. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Do you hear it? </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“And what I wouldn’t give… for a soulmate… someone else to catch this drift…”<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">See your life in the projection of another’s… somewhere, up there. </span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Mirror.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Round the corner, on a street you may not know, there’s a bird on a fence and a streetlight nearby. There’s a home to one side and some people inside. They’re outside of being inside of problems… they do know about. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Try telling news that your life told before you did - </span></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">and see that people are so seldom surprised.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Inveigle Beautiful Thing because it is… it’s beautiful. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">© Dylan Balkind 2001</span>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-26321846083833810662008-11-11T14:14:00.002+02:002008-11-11T14:27:41.731+02:00Rhodiola Nouveau<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Sidestepping reality while holding another in my arms, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">is both heartbreaking and powerful while it effectively disarms all of your charms.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Because it is one thing to think you could hide behind being someone else, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">but how do you do that effectively when you no longer even know yourself?<br /><br />Destroying lives and my own beach sand castles is not on, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">dark sad places are not fun and I’m tired of hanging on – </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">to falsehoods and people who’s shoulders are fickle still, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">who do nothing to put pictures on or to hold up my life’s mantle.<br /><br />If you get what you put in, I’m not sure I want the pay out, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">not sure I like what I put in and now I’m looking for a way out. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">A path as far from some of the history’s I’m a little sad to say I have written, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">but knowing that I have this feeling now surely means never twice bitten?<br /><br />The gauntlet got longer as I got older and my emotions are all leather now, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I can’t remember when I got so carried away, but I think I’m better today somehow. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Rhodiola Nouveau is where I make my footprints now, in this way,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">it is wholly happier and different to the sad crying blackout I remember from that day.<br /><br />The irony of what costs the relationships with the people that aren’t at the bar, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">the desperation to get out cannot equate the loss of people that really cared about it all – </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">so much in the beginning, but have since given up running my race, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">and I can finally understand their exhaustion, at having to humour my pace.<br /><br />Going to a place in my soul I wasn’t so happy to recognize, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">but am now so glad I did, I can see what I was about to jeopardise. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">When the house was quiet and people were sleeping, I journeyed through a story just like my own, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">and being able to write about this creatively must be a sign of me having grown…<br /><br />Wanting and meaning it when you ask the Universe for forgiveness,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">is like getting out of a hot bath of bubbles and feeling a rush of blessedness. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Not wanting to be a chameleon or the crowd pleaser anymore,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">but mostly not wanting to put my loves and myself – through an unholy unnecessary war.<br /><br />Rhodiola Nouveau is where I make my footprints now, today - </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">it’s definitely happier and different to the sad crying blackout I remember from that day. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Because it is one thing to think you could hide behind being someone else, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">but how do you do that when you no longer even know yourself? </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">© Dylan Balkind 2008</span>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-76498107649272636812008-10-16T16:47:00.001+02:002008-10-16T16:48:43.254+02:00Quotes I like<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>"I think we all have a little voice inside us that will guide us. It may be God, I don't know. But I think that if we shut out all the noise and clutter from our lives and listen to that voice, it will tell us the right thing to do."</em> </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">(Christopher Reeve)</span><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </p><p> </p>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-29405343637241293772008-10-10T16:50:00.001+02:002008-10-10T16:52:26.762+02:00Remember . . .<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1LeVHy_jYV8BkudK20KICmeZy6ymd31cDM6ZKnBaMs5wCesBHnnTilWjTaHWMQ4IEY51JcD3DIoIRycWUBuCCcEGqTLba9sjBNvgaOQkdkToo9fPkE9Qc1FJjkC9QaUgweADs7fe1Vc/s1600-h/you+are+beautiful.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255538064690942898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1LeVHy_jYV8BkudK20KICmeZy6ymd31cDM6ZKnBaMs5wCesBHnnTilWjTaHWMQ4IEY51JcD3DIoIRycWUBuCCcEGqTLba9sjBNvgaOQkdkToo9fPkE9Qc1FJjkC9QaUgweADs7fe1Vc/s320/you+are+beautiful.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-58005396961555096652008-10-07T16:51:00.008+02:002008-10-15T16:43:20.266+02:00Pantone's Deal<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br />A colour sits next to me and plays a part in my space,<br />it is all-encompassing while it never has to look me in the face.<br />It is therapy of vitality and it awakens the dead –<br />lifeless emotions told to be quiet... and its colour is red.<br /><br />A deep clear blue walked this way, gently calming this existence,<br />by doing big things and saying so much more than just its little sixpence.<br />Feminine principles of silver are quiet and mentally cleansing,<br />this colour therapy thing is with-it and ever so emphatically pleasing.<br /><br />Whirling in golden abundance is smart when you understand why,<br />you can enrichen your life entirely if you can simply be bothered to try.<br />Try letting go of stress and emotional trauma with green,<br />and when you see it in your silhouette, you will be forced to believe in...<br /><br />Sharpening your mind and your talents within,<br />a pale gold, like sunshine, being absorbed into your skin.<br />Stop worrying about what they might be saying behind your back,<br />just trust that in truth you can be gallantly powerful with black.<br /><br />Orange is a joyous anti-depressant and light,<br />relieving you of your darkest and most inhibiting strife.<br />And know that green candles can be so much more than just gifts,<br />that live in good memories and provide emotional lifts...<br /><br />Judges say poetry has to be this or that, talking about it at length,<br />but my expression is richest to me when I just listen to my breath.<br />Moving to a higher frequency I am blue on this day,<br />As green will be painting the walls of my minster on a Sunday.<br /><br /><br />© Dylan Balkind 2008</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><strong>Astrology & Colour Healing<br /></strong><br />Aries – Red<br />Taurus – Yellow<br />Gemini – Violet<br />Cancer – Green<br />Leo – Gold<br />Virgo – Purple<br />Libra – Yellow<br />Scorpio – Crimson Red<br />Sagittarius – Deep Clear Blue<br />Capricorn – Black & White<br />Aquarius – Blue with Silver Lights<br />Pisces – Soft Azure </span>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-59955452983007245582008-09-30T16:32:00.004+02:002008-09-30T16:39:45.703+02:00Remember . . .<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8JCD-T8guk-TVj2i5sTvkMX_VSvwxegR-wvrEfUmJrULPXauZjcdsvo1gvu-ZOy1LlqD4s52vma3IBJjCTohtOT_gSgR1t3-8vGthvYHGa0gzoEAPEEbdIlJLW9aR9GVsKbb0iiM43ks/s1600-h/55~Go-Confidently-In-The-Direction-Of-Your-Dreams-Live-The-Life-You-Ve-Imagined-Posters.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251823848271092210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8JCD-T8guk-TVj2i5sTvkMX_VSvwxegR-wvrEfUmJrULPXauZjcdsvo1gvu-ZOy1LlqD4s52vma3IBJjCTohtOT_gSgR1t3-8vGthvYHGa0gzoEAPEEbdIlJLW9aR9GVsKbb0iiM43ks/s320/55~Go-Confidently-In-The-Direction-Of-Your-Dreams-Live-The-Life-You-Ve-Imagined-Posters.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><br /></div><br /><div></div>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-11402778349736474062008-09-17T11:11:00.010+02:002008-09-25T12:39:49.827+02:00Left On Earth<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnenDh-k3UmbKww9HTz1lRfd1AoDkJboYjsH-Zo_dN1n-hX3Av6U8NpNu-naBl8DCHM_H4-TVcXCgKxqZaBNedTNo3wUOY_ej9JbBAQuACtVdA9hB2ChpFsUmkJmTCbjKDTdjM-YII_Ww/s1600-h/Stairway+1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246920259439530514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnenDh-k3UmbKww9HTz1lRfd1AoDkJboYjsH-Zo_dN1n-hX3Av6U8NpNu-naBl8DCHM_H4-TVcXCgKxqZaBNedTNo3wUOY_ej9JbBAQuACtVdA9hB2ChpFsUmkJmTCbjKDTdjM-YII_Ww/s200/Stairway+1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_yAIDsh6PC5eaqEzkHjPuWb_yVoFO5j7DbdjbZRU1SiUrEB7Is5xBHLpnuyWfTeH_Jxc8dZiJraO-_Jk9lnk40PLmul7-i-uch_FdFEiUpcCmk39t1gvfOsM5s9V2UUwjvFc99E2wOE/s1600-h/Stairway+1.jpg"></a></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When do you know that the light is out?<br />That death is just death, and your time is just out...<br />Is it finished, and gone, and forever just black?<br />Is it your way or my way, is it this way or that?<br /><br />I can’t believe it is final and that it is simply just gone forever,<br />We sat talking about it all, so happily here together.<br />If happiness lives in our conversation, so steadily herein,<br />How can it just be gone forever, and over so quickly when...<br /><br />When he loved so very very much and lived life so fully then,<br />Like a blue sky and grass as green as the most alluring garden.<br />Conversations here and now don’t make this topic forthright,<br />And no matter how you say it, it just doesn’t make it alright.<br /><br />That the big love and a life is gone when that light eventually goes out,<br />And you just cant change that, not even with all your might.<br />You can never win, because God is big and he is here,<br />And the fact is just that death is going to forever be nadir.<br /><br />In our face and simply a way we have to be,<br />like the salt on our skin while we holiday at the sea.<br />It’s a way of life and a normal way to exist,<br />A happiness to live in, or simply a cease and desist.<br /><br />Because the stairway to heaven is unfair and unleaven,<br />It’s never what you agreed to in your life’s contracts written.<br />It’s a sad time and an exceptionally vulnerable place to be,<br />It’s actually <strong>nothing</strong> like the salt on our skin while we holiday at the sea...<br /><br />So can we believe that the light just flickers and then goes out?<br />That death is just death, and that your time is just out?<br />Is it the storybook version or otherwise just the hard black cover?<br />And if it is just that, will we ever be able to believe that its just over when its over?<br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;">© Dylan Balkind 2008</span> </span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-47351897215860788712008-09-10T09:29:00.008+02:002008-09-30T14:46:29.959+02:00Your Own Little History<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSsa4YOZih7nGHSzhMSAfS4d7WH27t8D_hqBO44AuWBsTdMLE2ch0yduv5ZPvSg-wofn-nJ_mVGwXKf9h6VHyKbKq3bOSxE6VPMSAoUyoCGFg7O6F519mqSIZ6kN3aIN2h_2kaOUsuRXs/s1600-h/dreams_of_a_fantasy_world_02.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244291704405312370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSsa4YOZih7nGHSzhMSAfS4d7WH27t8D_hqBO44AuWBsTdMLE2ch0yduv5ZPvSg-wofn-nJ_mVGwXKf9h6VHyKbKq3bOSxE6VPMSAoUyoCGFg7O6F519mqSIZ6kN3aIN2h_2kaOUsuRXs/s200/dreams_of_a_fantasy_world_02.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I smelt my childhood just now and remembered some things,<br />When games were games and a win was just a win…<br /><br />Like…<br /><br />Playoffs in yards as kids with imagination,<br />with demons and horses and gates you open to let yourself in –<br />to crevices and crannies in worlds far away,<br />a time I often wish I could go to, as easily today.<br /><br />Smells might vanish but they’ll leave an air of mystery,<br />taking you to special times and places in your own little history.<br />Heartache or happiness from falling or riding a bike,<br />memories all the same, from very special parts of your life.<br /><br />We grow up so quickly and so easily forget,<br />what made us happy was playing in puddles and getting wet.<br />An innocence and an outlook so unpolluted and untainted,<br />and pictures so colourfully and uninhibitedly painted.<br /><br />Poignant questions become exam test and class results,<br />giving way to insecurities and bouts of competitive clout.<br />Not so wholesome, and imagination is lost therein,<br />and no more games are played – where a win is just a win.<br /><br />Indeed, <em>if we set our hearts to answer but one very famous question*</em>,<br />we might open a lion’s wardrobe finding another universe to jump in –<br />to remember happiness and simplicity and things that were really important,<br />and enforce a reawakening of those things that were previously so dormant.<br /><br />“Have you seen my Childhood” or smelt it go this way?<br />I want its innocence back and I am eagerly awaiting the day –<br />I’ll own it again and remember completely what made me – me,<br />an unafraid and challenging little boy, so boldly facing the sea.<br /><br />With the sun on my face and the dunes at my back,<br />I’m throwing my inhibitions in the superfluous emo sack.<br />I'm going to go gallantly forward with my memory and smell in tact,<br />not losing the impetus to say and do what made me write just that.<br /><br />Games in yards as kids with creative imagination,<br />a world you control and gates you open to let yourself in –<br />to coves and gardens and a happiness you found far away,<br />so remember who you are, and find <strong>Your</strong> happiness today.<br /><br />© Dylan Balkind 2008<br /><br /></span>*Rabbi Yehuda Leib HaLevi Ashlag</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-58423266676736854352008-09-01T18:31:00.007+02:002008-09-02T13:15:33.431+02:00Écouter / Myself<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4B5tdDV9OiQsoKX3rsAIt1r9YMWnFcK354nbID92Gv98FR32tbi_gt5tPQWnrJGdEGx352NpBr3zvKk2lkJ-aIwcJObegFaSOSsBqfWq3dMJrI0yAouWr1UO_0oUyWZ7yZqS4GajrIKk/s1600-h/courage+kabbalah.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241093446105465938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4B5tdDV9OiQsoKX3rsAIt1r9YMWnFcK354nbID92Gv98FR32tbi_gt5tPQWnrJGdEGx352NpBr3zvKk2lkJ-aIwcJObegFaSOSsBqfWq3dMJrI0yAouWr1UO_0oUyWZ7yZqS4GajrIKk/s320/courage+kabbalah.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Tomorrow I get up and go at it again,<br />wanting it and summoning the courage to let the new in. </span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Running again but not on the path of least resistance,<br />nor succumbing to failure along the path of least persistence.<br /><br />I remember you like it was yesterday, coming in from the cold,<br />you drove it home and personified ‘fortune favouring the bold.’<br />Watching you do it is an easy-to-grasp sense of bliss,<br />never willing to lose, even sixty seconds of happiness.<br /><br />Scared inside but brave while looking out,<br />we’re stronger when friends help us ditch our debilitating doubt.<br />Tomorrow I get up, try, and go at it again,<br />believing, wanting, and summoning the courage to let the light in.<br /><br />What makes you stay and love endlessly?<br />Knowing you knowing me, tirelessly and so touchingly.<br />Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow,<br />no matter how simple or staggeringly high brow.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>Walk like the sun is your spotlight</em>, and let the light shine in,*<br /><em>more powerful than the will to win, is having the will to begin</em>.**<br />I know some things are fairy dust and other things are just a myth,<br />but I know that grasping and living happiness, is also having someone to do it with.<br /><br />Ambition is something you want to hold on to for longer than long,<br />And something you pine for, drunkenly when it is gone.<br />But having friends to kick it with and remind you how,<br />Is the greatest display of fireworks I’ve seen until now.<br /><br />My belief in me and my hunger has returned,<br />so tomorrow I go at it again, even though I might get burned.<br />Believing and summoning the courage to let a new light in,<br />because more powerful than the will to win, is having the will to begin.<br /></div></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">© Dylan Balkind 2008 </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">* Merran Williamson </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">** Unknown Author </span></div>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-43160141147914320962008-08-22T11:53:00.003+02:002008-08-22T11:58:23.608+02:0016 Pegs<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv11VcMR1m0qRdFEHWRlJTxxKL1JPT0ibQIxitlXcWwDA07ojphm7tseXZ4Z41graDIKp9A0QBSmSWB-bAguAx2mJ1139YizZC81YxQ-E69ZhWN0iJ3zKdE_v3NjUEy4jUctfWrdhPx7Q/s1600-h/pegs.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237278295035769218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv11VcMR1m0qRdFEHWRlJTxxKL1JPT0ibQIxitlXcWwDA07ojphm7tseXZ4Z41graDIKp9A0QBSmSWB-bAguAx2mJ1139YizZC81YxQ-E69ZhWN0iJ3zKdE_v3NjUEy4jUctfWrdhPx7Q/s320/pegs.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">1. John Mayer – Free Falling<br />2. Alanis Morissette – Incomplete<br />3. Coldplay – God put a smile on your face<br />4. Tori Amos – Cornflake Girl<br />5. Adele – Cold Shoulder<br />6. Mutya Buena – B Boy<br />7. Kenny Loggins – Danger Zone<br />8. KT Tunstall – Little Favours<br />9. Duran Duran – A view to a kill<br />10. Bow Wow Wow – I want Candy<br />11. Sara Bareilles – Love Song<br />12. Madonna – The Devil wouldn’t recognize you<br />13. John Mayer – Message in a bottle<br />14. Elton John – Benny & the Jets<br />15. John Mayer – Say<br />16. Untitled</span>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-50820625493722996072008-08-11T17:06:00.001+02:002008-08-11T17:10:40.380+02:00Simple Play ThingsIt’s dangerous to play with people’s feelings,<br />doing things you shouldn’t, assuming that hearts are simple play-things.<br />It’s just as bad to allow it to be done to you,<br />forfeiting the incomparable truth glue that fastens up you.<br /><br />Meetings around a table that piss you off and make you groan,<br />are as constructive as George Bush, behind a microphone.<br />Crap days full of negativity like schoolyard bullying from evil children,<br />form a cyanide in your bloodstream, going ever deeper & deeper within.<br /><br />Speak up when you are angry and escape getting sick,<br />from angst and feelings, playing constant mind-game tricks.<br />Dangerous Liaisons involve emotions & psychology,<br />but cleansing the air makes a healthier, stronger, you and me.<br /><br />Watching voices talk at you about menial things that shouldn’t even matter,<br />commits you to a Dangerous Liaison with somebody’s not so grey, grey-matter.<br />You might get angry and say some stupid things,<br />or storm out resulting in unresolved situations and some sadly clipped wings. <br /><br />In professions, in love, and in the Dangerous Liaison thatch, <br />there is just no such thing – as “no-strings-attached”.<br />So easily set on fire, and so fragile to begin with,<br />walk away from the sinful temptation of the cruel intention plinth.<br /><br />Big green monsters are iffy, and meeting them is scary,<br />So don’t be jealous and tag this sentiment, wisely.<br />Some things change and some things will always stay the same,<br />and my integrity right now, has me leaving the Dangerous Liaison game.<br /><br />Remind yourself everyday, that it’s dangerous to play with people’s feelings,<br />carelessly assuming that precious hearts are simple play-things...<br />Some things change and some things will always stay the same,<br />So ditch the cruel intention plinth, and the Dangerous Liaison way.<br /><br /><br /><br />© Dylan Balkind 2008DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-2646456924998738232008-07-30T11:03:00.010+02:002008-12-09T20:02:31.482+02:00The Reincarnation Gift<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUGsm8pLoRzpI85T3cRPWDmBP6EOe5ytEJBvzZVGGtQlznrvHAmoGywf0gp7JMkqN7hwaOdTy0ecvC2YDQSiqeVAzrAchZFkrurxd6R6xTrM-2hOeRVZSr2mFAEIvcGb5Q0edcCDCHlYA/s1600-h/bootie.jpg"></a></div><p align="left">I believe in reincarnation... <em><strong>sometimes.</strong><br /></em><br /><br />I believe I can be incredibly cantankerous and then happy again the next day,<br />And being at the whim of my bite is simply the price you must pay.<br />You’ll be warm again and even love me once more,<br />or you can choose to walk out yet another slamming door.<br /><br />Or, I might be at the end of your mood and selfish delight,<br />and passionately profess to hate you with all my might.<br />And the rebirth of our love is yet another swift mood change-gear,<br />and together we go on in an honesty pinky-promise swear.<br /><br />But...<br />We should know that existing again can come at a high price,<br />and the gamble we play is so much more than just rolling a dice.<br />So be kind to this place and leave a light on for yourself,<br />and decibal dewey your thoughts in your mind library shelf.<br /><br />Reincarnate yourself with frank meaning to what you say,<br />to yourself over and over in that head of yours each day.<br />New lives can exist in many ways and very different states of being,<br />they’re there for the taking and your seeing will be your believing.<br /><br />It’s funny how we can hate tomorrow what we cherished today,<br />but isn’t this simply the reincarnation way?<br />Starting again in a good minute on this day,<br />is very much a way of your soul saying ‘Happy Birthday’.<br /><br />Our popular reasoning is just like a creative line-up screening,<br />we pick the good from the bad and leave the experience somewhat teeming -<br />- because ‘popular’ is subjective and will also reincarnate itself,<br />from memories on your dewey decibal mind library shelf.<br /><br />So then, falling off the rail is ok when people can’t be bothered to listen,<br />because their ugliness today will be their beauty in tomorrow’s glisten.<br />And we will surely all be happy, eventually,<br />Like the immortal leaves on the charming reincarnation tree.<br /><br />And so the sun shines brightly through the very darkest of clouds,<br />reincarnating your happiness, and erasing all your doubts.<br />And starting again in a good minute on this day,<br />means we’re grasping the gift of the reincarnation way.<br /><br /><br /><br />© Dylan Balkind 2008 </p><p align="left"></p><p align="left"></p>DKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8460246616367369579.post-33979574733355197742008-07-29T10:16:00.002+02:002008-07-29T10:17:27.451+02:00Remember . . .“Whether one believes in a religion or not, and whether one believes in rebirth or not, there isn't anyone who doesn't appreciate kindness and compassion.”<br /><br /><br />Dalai LamaDKBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12801746802061798965noreply@blogger.com0