doggerel for the daring…

If I can figure out chords for the chorus bit, I’ll probably record the thing and slap it up here…

I look at me in the mirror

I don’t like what I see

I wanna see happy and rested

I wanna see flyin and free

 

And I wanna see calm and collected

I wanna subtle and sane

I wanna get out of this spinnin

And I wanna come out of the rain

 

I wanna fall flat into happy

I wanna sink down into joy

I wanna wake up from this nightmare

I wanna walk away from their ploys

 

And I wanna be miserably happy

I wanna with rot with smiles

I wanna climb the top of the tallest tree

I wanna lay down for awhile

 

What’s blocking the mirror

What’s blocking my view

I look in all I see is me

When I all want to see is you

All I want to see is you

 

I sit here in this cold blue room

Staring at the wall 

I stare a little longer

I can feel the darkness fall (call?)

 

I breathe like they told me to

Counting 7, 8, 9, 10

I’m afraid I’ve lost my way

I’ve lost the door again

 

I’ve been into the mines of me

My only hope is you

My only hope in this dark, damp cave

Is that you’ve tasted darkness too

 

My only hope is a nail-scarred hand

That’s dying to be free

My only hope is a wounded side

And the blood pouring over me

 

My only hope is a heavenly flood

My only hope is your light

It’s my only hope in this fiction land

Cause I don’t have the strength to fight

 

All the monsters that want to pursue us

All the windmills that deface

All the maidens that need to be rescued

All the world that needs Your grace

 

What’s blocking the mirror

What’s blocking my view

I look in, all I see is me

And all I want to see is you. 

All I want to see is you.

 

I kick and I scream and I thrash at you

I kick and I scream and I thrash at you

I kick and I scream and I thrash at you

Hold me in spite of me

Hold me in spite of me

 

What’s blocking the mirror

What’s blocking my view

I look in, all I see is me

And all I want to see is you. 

All I want to see is you.

 

I sit here in the darkness

I don’t know if you’re going to come

I know I know so much more than this

I’m the beloved son.

 

I know I’ll be swimming in laughter

I’ll know my name by somehow

I might be afraid in the darkness

But I won’t be afraid of the crowds

 

I won’t be afraid that they’ll see me

I won’t be afraid of my words

I won’t be afraid of my still, small voice

I won’t be afraid I’ll be heard

 

Nothing blocking the mirror

Nothing stopping the view

A view so clear

I can see from here

You like to see me too

So I’ll let you see me too.

 

 

fallen silent for far too long

Serví Tu Ciudad tiene el privilegio de sumarse con el Dia Global del Voluntariado Juvenil, el 24-25 de abril, 2010.  La Agencia Nacional de Coordinación de la Asociación Cristiana de Jovenes convoca a la ACJ y a la Red de Voluntariado Juvenil de Uruguay para la Décima Primera Edición  del

DÍA GLOBAL DEL SERVICIO VOLUNTARIO JUVENIL – DGSVJuy

Lema 2010: “Solidaridad sin fronteras.”

fallen silent for far too long

zathe.com has been silent for aeons…  since august last year.  does this mean I am waking up?

Moving day…

This is a little song I heard a girl called Sara Miller singing this morning.  It is written by Bill Harley, and it was one of those “grace breaks through” moments.  My almost 9 year old had taken my computer hostage and when she finally left, I sat down and heard this song and cried like a baby.  Pent up grief is certainly a motor of neurotic behaviour…  Whodathunkit?

Listen to the song here

Car’s full,
Trunks packed -
Stuff on the roof rack.
Mom says
We leave soon.
Last time
In my room.

One last look out my window -
The yard, the street,
the place I know.

I go, they stay -
It’s moving day.

Here’s where
My bed stood.
Floors made
Of old wood.
Mom left
The light on
Walls marked
With crayon.

The door I slammed when I was mad.
The place I cried when I was sad.
I go, they stay
It’s moving day.

When I grow up, I might come back
To this place again.
If I find some kids live here
I’ll tell them who I am.

“Let’s go,” Dad calls
I guess that’s all
Goodbye house,
Goodbye room
I won’t be back soon
Down the steps,
Out the front door
Now I don’t live here
Anymore.

Part of my heart stays
On moving day

High Times for Uruguayan Wines…

I don’t know if you are a wine connoisseur or teetotaler, but if you have been known to partake of the fruit of the vine, I would encourage you to give this New York Times article a read.  It may have you shooting off to the wine store for a bottle, and who knows, maybe calling Matt and Toni to arrange a wine tour in Uruguay. 

We’ll leave the light on for you…

http://travel.nytimes.com/2009/04/19/travel/19next-1.html?emc=eta1

 

AFTER several wrong turns through desolate dirt roads, I finally saw Carlos Pizzorno waving at me from the entrance of his vineyard. He is an affable man with wind-worn skin and rough hands, the result of tending personally to the vines. While touring the 50-acre estate, we stopped before two hand-cranked corking machines from the early 1900s, a quaint example of Mr. Pizzorno’s painstaking craftsmanship. Inside the cellar, his 2004 blend of tannat, cabernet sauvignon, merlot and petit verdot had been aging in bottle for three years. “It will be released when the time is right,” he said. “These wines have my family name and I can’t let it down.”

Read more »

Se busca VOLUNTARIOS para Equipo de Coordinación

Tal vez el acto más primordial de servicio es permitir que otros tengan la oportunidad de servir.  Parker Palmer, activista estadounidense, definió el liderazgo como “crear espacios en donde la abundancia human pueda emergir.” 

La tarea de coordinación es la tarea de crear esos espacios.  En 2009, STC Uruguay procura lanzar iniciativas de voluntariado para ayudar a fomentar una cultura de voluntariado.  Necesitamos personas que pueden ayudar a formar los proyectos, hablar con voluntarios, trabajar con patrocinadores, y coordinar eventos, y facilitar comunicación para que los demás puedan encontrar su lugar para servir. 

¿Te interesa?  Mandanos tu información a stc@servethecity.org.uy, y estaremos en contacto.

Matt,
Coordinador General, STC Uruguay

I like sausages…

The other day I was at a friend’s house, and had to use his computer for something random.  He sent me back to the back room of the house where I was, staring at the bright screen in that dimly lit room, and I was overcome by temptation.

I got there, and saw his facebook page wide open.  The room was dimly lit, and so I think that contributed to the mischievous deed that came forth from somewhere deep in my bowels.

I saw it, it said “Joe Bloe is” with a blank afterward with grey text that said something like, “What’s on your mind?”  I swear, there appeared a thousand imps inside me (no, not Legion, he wouldn’t be quite so funny as me, a lack of sense of humor being one of the chief failures of the demonic host), and they had something on their mind.

“I like sausages.”

So, next to that cool pose and smiling face of my good friend, in a nano-second, there appeared that wonderful phrase.

“I like sausages.”

Bratwursts, Chorizos, Italian, Polish…

The only thing I hadn’t counted on was all the sick, perverted minds in this world that would thing I was attributing a sexual orientation to my friend.  May it never be!  And when I saw THOSE responses on his facebook, I got seriously embarrassed.  How dare they!

So, next time you are having a backyard cookout, and the peppers and onions are sizzling on the grill, and the brats are dripping, and the tops are popping on your favorite refreshing beverage, make sure you don’t leave your Facebook account open.  You never know who might drop by.

Islamigood?

My friend Mike laid one of those great quotes on me that forever changed my life.  I use it now every day, at least once, so people don’t miss a chance to realize how smart I am.  The quote goes like this.  It comes from ancient China.  “The beginning of wisdom is calling things by their right names.”

For instance…  If you looked at me and said, “Hey Bill,” then you would show how unwise you were. Not only that, I wouldn’t say anything back to you.  Well, I might say, “You have me confused.”  Or, if you really seemed nice, I might tell you about all the times I would respond to the wrong name when I was younger due to a perpetual fear of making people feel stupid.  Stupd and bad.

So, I had a thought.  Maybe we could go a long way toward stemming Middle East confusion and violence by trying out different names for things.  Take Islamibad for example.  Aren’t you just asking for trouble by saying Islam Bad every time you mention that fine capital city.  Try, “JudaismBad” for Jerusalem, or ChristianityBad for the Vatican (well, you might be on to something with THAT particular example).

So, I am going to try it.  At least, give it a shot.  Islamigood.  Who knows.  Maybe militants in safe havens in the mountains of autonomous tribal regions will start beating their Kalishnakovs into plowshares.

If Istanbul was once Constantinople, surely we can do better than Islamibad.

Maybe I’m wrong.  But maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of wisdom.

Fragment after being at Victor’s

Just give me 3 chairs and a little table
some scraps of paper
a purple pen
we might be inspired
we might talk till dawn
a castle or a cabin
i just need a place to sit
to raise the dogs
to fall into that sleepy space
where we dream of a new world