William Blake's The Tiger

TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

series on William Blake - The Lamb

The Lamb(Songs of Innocence)
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life & bid thee feed,
By the stream & o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, wooly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee:
He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a Lamb.
He is meek & he is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child & thou a lamb.
We are called by his name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!

google doodles and life

google doodle's tribute to Les Paul is Awsome! I wish I had the time to spend hours and hours on it. How many million of "productive office work hours were lost on this and how much did this liberate people's psyche, turning them on to their creative side. Oh what a study! Mass psychology of doodling and how it affects productivity! Well, that sounds a bit Marxian, I know it "should be Marxism", but look it up! Anyhow, because of my schedule, at one in the morning last night I saw this and wanted to spend the night playing, but als I was at work and rsearching something work related...so, today here is my recording on Google . Of course others did fantastic playing with it. Listen to PC Magazine's Chris Phillips's rendition of Here Comes the Sun:
New project an art rendition of my genogram. You'll be proud Myra! You are an angel...a beautiful angel that has darknessto be like me and others, but you ARE an angel!

myths for all and the Hudson as the new Jordan or Ganges...

Watching Joseph Campbell's series on the power and history of myths. How brilliant, and the unserstated sense of humour are a great addition to this man's incredible erudition. He read everything! But I think he had it wrong on some aspects of the Torah! But who am I to question one of the world's great autorities on all things sacred and profane?

social workers as pawns

on memories and social recognition and self acceptance. Honesty and the vague but poignant feeling that all was not not honesty. It never is. The little secrets we all harbor in our souls,disappointments and lost time. what use is it to decry what was never or was beautiful.silly to think that life could have been otherwise. foolish to become bitter and entangled in a web of deception and self deceit. Oh do I know of loves that were never, stars that were crossed, mediocrity lived when they thought the world at their feet. I did too to a point. Life is now, this moment, this feeling of hearing my daughter coming down the stair claiming she's hungry. I'm thinking she's going for the Hagen Daaz. She goes for the chicken. But it's 11:30 and you're having dinner? well we had dinner at 3 in the afternoon so this wold be a Spaniard's version of supper.
Am I a social worker yet? am I?! Does tucking in someone count? Or would Ms.X. be shocked and appalled at the lack of boundaries. Boundaries don't count in the human relation. boundaries are only valid for tasks and jobs and avoidance of malpractice suits. I'll go elsewhere and practice real social work. What is done around here is mostly attempts by the dominant classes to subdue those who would question their legitimacy. Social workers as pawns as it were. That's the title of the book that i will write.

friday poetry

at last
no more energy to worry and to spend
worn in and out
and not saluting your misogynous avarice
I crumble to the ground and do
the least
the most
define what you are giving to the universe

tchatchkes

two and a 1/2 years of non stop movement has left sequelae. I have no energy, no motivation, feel like sleeping and nothing else all day. The much promised vacation never came and I am still stuck in this house, having to get rid of some of the tchatchkes that I collected for 3 years.
Are we really in a depression and if we are, how am I going to live and find a job and make the money I need to make to pay back school loans. I have to come up with a plan. I need to find a business, write something, whatever it takes to make it over this slump that I am having. Meanwhile, life goes on. my nights either in a restless and creepy dream alternate reality and my days, an attempt to not go out of my mind. I have lost all motivation, agian I have lost all motivation. I finished a Master's and now I can barely do the dishes. Pathetic!

So I watched a Ram Dass Documentary and feel a bit better.