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Soak up the South

 

We were bleary-eyed and weak

still reeling from the heat

but the sun was going down, down, down

 

All day working hard

just to get back where you are

and the love was all around

’round, ’round

 

Chorus:

I will soak up the south

and kiss your mouth

where the cherry blossoms bloom

out behind the house

 

There’s a whisper in the field

there’s a stillness you can feel

and it swallows all the sound

sound, sound

 

The whippoorwill, he cries

but no matter how he tries

he cannot get me down,

down, down

 

Chorus

Bridge:

Let my roots grow deep

beneath the southern stars

I am bound to blossom

where you are

One chord song

Who decides
where beauty lies
or where it hides
and meekly bides
her time
she is just waiting
to surprise you!

Your mother was
a wishing well
and coins like dreams
into her fell
and clattered like
a ringing bell
around her

Your father was
a petty thief
he stole him peaches
from the tree
and passed them round
to you and me
for pleasure

Oh how I love you
Jenny Lee
Your green eyes
mean the world to me
you’re pretty as
a bumble bee
I’d wager!

Woman

Grit my teeth and wonder what its like to love a woman.

I have tasted many fruits but never any good ones.

Bright and Beautiful

All things bright and beautiful
The weight of the sky

Marigolds, turn towards the sun
and soak, gossip, and cry

Lovers sit, moving inch by inch
closer towards the light

(wordless chorus)

Mother’s voice, father’s arms
wrapped around me tight

meek and mild, woman’s smile
it fills me with delight

winter’s chill, water in the pail
hardened into ice

(wordless chorus)
(bridge:)
When I am old, and lowly go
the simplest of things will carry me home
no ebon crows will fly above
in love we are all tangled up

Holy cities

I sought you, oh I sought you
Only to find
There is no mecca that can hold you
Nor any place that could confine

I have seen no holy city
for they are the works of man
Oh but there is a holy spirit
I met him in my mother’s garden

The sky cried out like a lamb
as the veil was torn apart
and the black that covered everything
could not penetrate my heart

Oh there is no golden temple
and I have never heard you shout
but when I break the cinders open
the flames come pouring out.

chorus:
O! Gold and Red,
lit the sky above my head
I was tangled up in vines
Sure that I would end up dead

But you found me just the same,
and you called me by name
and the furrow on your brow
speaks of love I can’t explain

Fact

If you think no one can understand you, it’s probably because you wont let them.

Mecca

How great are the gifts of God

I sought you, oh, I sought you
only to discover that
there is no Mecca that can contain you
No holy city, but a holy spirit
No great temple but the heart
No stony silence but a sea of whispers

Wendell Berry sabbath poem

X

Tanya. Now that I am getting old,
I feel I must hurry against time to tell you
(as long ago I started out to do) everything,

though I know that really there can be no end
to all there is for me to say to you even of this,
our temporary life. Sometimes it seems to me

that I am divided from you by a shadow
of incomprehension, mine or yours, or mind and yours;
or that I am caught in the misery of selfhood

forever. And I think that this must be
the lot (may God help us) of all mortals who love
each other: to know by truth that they do so,

but also by error. Often now I am reminded
that the time may come (for this is our pledge)
when you will stand by me and know

that I, though “living” still, have gone beyond
all remembering, as my father went in time
before me; or that I have gone, like my mother,

into a time of pain, drugs, and still sleep.
But I know now that in that great distance
on the edge or beyond the edge of this world

I will be growing alight with being. And (listen!)
I will be longing to come back. This
came to me in a dream, near morning,

after I had labored through the night under
this weight of earthly love. On time’s edge, wakened,
shaken, light and free, I will be longing

to return, to seek you through the world,
to find you (recognizing you by you beauty),
to marry you, to make a place to live,

to have children and grandchildren. The light
of that place beyond time will show me the world
as perhaps Christ saw it before His birth

in the stable at Bethlehem. I will see that it is
imperfect. It will be imperfect. (To whom would love
appear but to those in most desperate need?) Yes,

we would err again. Yes, we would suffer
again. Yes, provided you would have it
so, I would do it all again.

INFP

For INFPs, life is a journey to understand themselves and the world. Where some others may strive for achievements such as degrees and promotions, an INFP tends to consider these as important mainly for their value in making it easier to fulfill the INFP’s life goals.

INFPs value authenticity, acceptance, and the search for meaning in life in both the ordinary events of life and the grand scheme of the universe. One source of sustenance for INFPs are those small, genuine gestures from the heart, be they from loved ones or strangers.

INFPs have many interests and talents. They are generally good at perceiving possibilities for improving the world and understanding others. They are often clear at expressing ideas through language, writing, poetry, and other talents. When an INFP supports a particular project or goal, they can get an extraordinary amount of work done in a short time. On the other hand, INFPs tend to procrastinate and are dissatisfied by detailed work not related to one of their important values. This is one reason INFPs are happier when working at jobs which are related to their values.

Ideas and feelings (and particularly ideas about feelings) form the center of an INFPs existence. As INFPs explore the world, they discover new relationships, concepts, and connections about the universe. This exploration guides INFPs to find values important to themselves.

Many INFPs do not like attempts to impose shoulds and have-tos. These INFPs find absolute systems of rules that everyone must abide to as confining and arbitrary and simply unfair. As such, INFPs may rail against words that imply that a value system can be imposed from the outside.

Sometimes INFPs deny having ideals or principles since it’s possible to equate a reliance on principles with dogmatism and inflexibility. Instead, they prefer to talk about feelings: not momentary emotional states but the personal values on which the feeling function operates.

INFPs often place a high value on harmony, and avoid conflict unless confrontation becomes necessary. Minor, detail oriented, administrative problems are ignored until they stop the progress of any current projects. When his or her projects are threatened, an INFP will either fight for the project/ideal if it’s important enough, or concentrate on another one of his or her interests to avoid a confrontation.

INFPs do not measure life in terms of the number of friends and acquaintances they have but rather by the quality of their friendships. For INFPs, the distinction between friends and acquaintances is very important; an acquaintance is someone they spend time with while a friend is someone with whom an INFP can share ideas and feelings. Their most valuable friends are people who understand their important values and accept them unconditionally.

An INFP’s feelings form the foundations of the individual. They are sacred and binding, in the sense that their emergence requires no further justification. An INFP’s feelings are often guarded, kept safe from attack and ridicule. Only a few, close confidants are permitted entrance into this domain.

INFP’s look at humanity at both the individual (human-to-human) and societal levels. One common discouragement for INFP’s is that societal change often seems impossible. When INFPs become discouraged, they may need some time and space to rediscover their values and a sense of inner peace. The conflict between their ideal world and “reality”, as they see it can cause depression or withdrawal from the world unless they have people that support them in their projects.

Home

This world will never be my home
this earth of soil and stone
she’s a sight to behold
and I am lonely