<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37810185</id><updated>2011-05-31T05:42:43.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Inspiration Compilation Station</title><subtitle type='html'>Where we post what inspires us</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curimics.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37810185/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curimics.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14393128539546879168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dTFpUPPauE0/TeTiOPKVVuI/AAAAAAAAAJU/iEaesWSqB6E/s220/IMG_0843.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37810185.post-116526885068294354</id><published>2006-12-04T13:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T13:47:30.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Borges</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;The Art of Poetry&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jorge Luis Borges&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;To gaze at a river made of time and water&lt;br /&gt;And remember Time is another river.&lt;br /&gt;To know we stray like a river&lt;br /&gt;and our faces vanish like water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To feel that waking is another dream&lt;br /&gt;that dreams of not dreaming and that the death&lt;br /&gt;we fear in our bones is the death&lt;br /&gt;that every night we call a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see in every day and year a symbol&lt;br /&gt;of all the days of man and his years,&lt;br /&gt;and convert the outrage of the years&lt;br /&gt;into a music, a sound, and a symbol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see in death a dream, in the sunset&lt;br /&gt;a golden sadness--such is poetry,&lt;br /&gt;humble and immortal, poetry,&lt;br /&gt;returning, like dawn and the sunset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes at evening there's a face&lt;br /&gt;that sees us from the deeps of a mirror.&lt;br /&gt;Art must be that sort of mirror,&lt;br /&gt;disclosing to each of us his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say Ulysses, wearied of wonders,&lt;br /&gt;wept with love on seeing Ithaca,&lt;br /&gt;humble and green. Art is that Ithaca,&lt;br /&gt;a green eternity, not wonders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Art is endless like a river flowing,&lt;br /&gt;passing, yet remaining, a mirror to the same&lt;br /&gt;inconstant Heraclitus, who is the same&lt;br /&gt;and yet another, like the river flowing.  &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37810185-116526885068294354?l=curimics.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curimics.blogspot.com/feeds/116526885068294354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37810185&amp;postID=116526885068294354' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37810185/posts/default/116526885068294354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37810185/posts/default/116526885068294354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curimics.blogspot.com/2006/12/borges.html' title='Borges'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14393128539546879168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dTFpUPPauE0/TeTiOPKVVuI/AAAAAAAAAJU/iEaesWSqB6E/s220/IMG_0843.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37810185.post-116474044592064555</id><published>2006-11-28T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T11:00:45.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emily</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Parting is all we know of heaven, &lt;br /&gt;And all we need of hell. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily Dickinson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37810185-116474044592064555?l=curimics.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curimics.blogspot.com/feeds/116474044592064555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37810185&amp;postID=116474044592064555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37810185/posts/default/116474044592064555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37810185/posts/default/116474044592064555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curimics.blogspot.com/2006/11/emily.html' title='Emily'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14393128539546879168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dTFpUPPauE0/TeTiOPKVVuI/AAAAAAAAAJU/iEaesWSqB6E/s220/IMG_0843.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37810185.post-116467885242060087</id><published>2006-11-27T17:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T17:54:12.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Memoriam A.H.H. by Alfred Lord Tennyson</title><content type='html'>this is my favorite excerpt from this Epic poem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I sometimes hold it half a sin &lt;br /&gt;    To put in words the grief I feel; &lt;br /&gt;    For words, like Nature, half reveal &lt;br /&gt;And half conceal the Soul within. &lt;br /&gt;But, for the unquiet heart and brain, &lt;br /&gt;    A use in measured language lies; &lt;br /&gt;    The sad mechanic exercise, &lt;br /&gt;Like dull narcotics, numbing pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In words, like weeds, I’ll wrap me o’er, &lt;br /&gt;    Like coarsest clothes against the cold: &lt;br /&gt;    But that large grief which these enfold &lt;br /&gt;Is given in outline and no more. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37810185-116467885242060087?l=curimics.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curimics.blogspot.com/feeds/116467885242060087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37810185&amp;postID=116467885242060087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37810185/posts/default/116467885242060087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37810185/posts/default/116467885242060087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curimics.blogspot.com/2006/11/in-memoriam-ahh-by-alfred-lord.html' title='In Memoriam A.H.H. by Alfred Lord Tennyson'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14393128539546879168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dTFpUPPauE0/TeTiOPKVVuI/AAAAAAAAAJU/iEaesWSqB6E/s220/IMG_0843.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37810185.post-116467413566530019</id><published>2006-11-27T15:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T16:45:51.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lisa's Current Favorites</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;T.S. Elliot&lt;br /&gt;The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(It's a long one, so I'll give you my favorite excerpts)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I dare        &lt;br /&gt;Disturb the universe? &lt;br /&gt;In a minute there is time &lt;br /&gt;For decisions and revisions which a minute will&lt;br /&gt;reverse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For I have known them all already, known them all:— &lt;br /&gt;Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,        &lt;br /&gt;I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, &lt;br /&gt;Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald]&lt;br /&gt;brought in upon a platter, &lt;br /&gt;I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter; &lt;br /&gt;I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, &lt;br /&gt;And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and&lt;br /&gt;snicker,         &lt;br /&gt;And in short, I was afraid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would it have been worth while &lt;br /&gt;If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl, &lt;br /&gt;And turning toward the window, should say: &lt;br /&gt;  “That is not it at all, &lt;br /&gt;  That is not what I meant, at all.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I do not think that they will sing to me.         &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I have seen them riding seaward on the waves &lt;br /&gt;Combing the white hair of the waves blown back &lt;br /&gt;When the wind blows the water white and black. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;We have lingered in the chambers of the sea &lt;br /&gt;By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown      &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Till human voices wake us, and we drown. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Secret Machines&lt;br /&gt;An Epic Case of Mistaken Identity &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I still remember that look&lt;br /&gt;that moment you took&lt;br /&gt;or maybe I’m just full of it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my mind up right then&lt;br /&gt;I’m staying in bed&lt;br /&gt;laying beside myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weren’t you the one we found?&lt;br /&gt;shooting up sound?&lt;br /&gt;in the bathroom of that charming little place&lt;br /&gt;we shared alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of all the things that I’ve read&lt;br /&gt;all the words that you said&lt;br /&gt;a few I still can’t believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the ones I care to recall&lt;br /&gt;you shared with us all&lt;br /&gt;the reasons why, I’ll never see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weren’t you the one I saw?&lt;br /&gt;holding up the wall?&lt;br /&gt;that stood between the “We” &lt;br /&gt;in “Me and You”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;measured space eclipsed &lt;br /&gt;what courage failed to &lt;br /&gt;cover constellations with forever&lt;br /&gt;collapsing strings of reason tied together&lt;br /&gt;undone by the birthright of the truth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what I failed to grasp was&lt;br /&gt;what this came to too late&lt;br /&gt;all the memories I’d collected &lt;br /&gt;projections on the walls that we'd erected&lt;br /&gt;oh no!&lt;br /&gt;on the face of normal time&lt;br /&gt;revolves in seconds&lt;br /&gt;breathing down the throat&lt;br /&gt;of disappearing acts arranged&lt;br /&gt;as me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;and it makes no difference for us&lt;br /&gt;what’s left unsaid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to reacquaint ourselves with love&lt;br /&gt;a hopeless word &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as insignificance befriends us all in time&lt;br /&gt;our lives become unwound&lt;br /&gt;what then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like the bad days go on for weeks&lt;br /&gt;some other times they pass unnoticed &lt;br /&gt;just like the thought&lt;br /&gt;that all along I had the wrong you&lt;br /&gt;all along I had the wrong you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd pay to see&lt;br /&gt;what surrounds you&lt;br /&gt;when heaven falls on your eyes&lt;br /&gt;I’ll stand on trees in my hands&lt;br /&gt;and all the limbs you cut before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I saw the morning's brand new light&lt;br /&gt;it’s just a scratch&lt;br /&gt;I’ll be alright&lt;br /&gt;I’ll wake to see what tomorrow brings &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it’s like the whole time was wrong&lt;br /&gt;all along I had the wrong you &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; Edgar Allen Poe&lt;br /&gt;Annabel Lee &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was many and many a year ago, &lt;br /&gt;   In a kingdom by the sea, &lt;br /&gt;That a maiden there lived whom you may know &lt;br /&gt;   By the name of ANNABEL LEE;-- &lt;br /&gt;And this maiden she lived with no other thought &lt;br /&gt;   Than to love and be loved by me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;She was a child and I was a child, &lt;br /&gt;   In this kingdom by the sea, &lt;br /&gt;But we loved with a love that was more than love-- &lt;br /&gt;   I and my Annabel Lee-- &lt;br /&gt;With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven &lt;br /&gt;   Coveted her and me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this was the reason that, long ago, &lt;br /&gt;   In this kingdom by the sea, &lt;br /&gt;A wind blew out of a cloud by night &lt;br /&gt;   Chilling my Annabel Lee; &lt;br /&gt;So that her high-born kinsman came &lt;br /&gt;   And bore her away from me, &lt;br /&gt;To shut her up in a sepulchre &lt;br /&gt;   In this kingdom by the sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, &lt;br /&gt;   Went envying her and me:-- &lt;br /&gt;Yes! that was the reason (as all men know, &lt;br /&gt;   In this kingdom by the sea) &lt;br /&gt;That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling &lt;br /&gt;   And killing my Annabel Lee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But our love it was stronger by far than the love &lt;br /&gt;   Of those who were older than we-- &lt;br /&gt;   Of many far wiser than we- &lt;br /&gt;And neither the angels in Heaven above, &lt;br /&gt;   Nor the demons down under the sea, &lt;br /&gt;Can ever dissever my soul from the soul &lt;br /&gt;   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams &lt;br /&gt;   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; &lt;br /&gt;And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes &lt;br /&gt;   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; &lt;br /&gt;And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side &lt;br /&gt;Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride, &lt;br /&gt;   In her sepulchre there by the sea-- &lt;br /&gt;   In her tomb by the side of the sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; The Beatles&lt;br /&gt;You Never Give Me Your Money &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;One sweet dream,&lt;br /&gt;pick up the bags&lt;br /&gt;get in the limousine.&lt;br /&gt;Soon we'll be away from here&lt;br /&gt;Step on the gas and wipe that tear away&lt;br /&gt;One sweet dream&lt;br /&gt;Came true&lt;br /&gt;Today &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37810185-116467413566530019?l=curimics.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://curimics.blogspot.com/feeds/116467413566530019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37810185&amp;postID=116467413566530019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37810185/posts/default/116467413566530019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37810185/posts/default/116467413566530019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://curimics.blogspot.com/2006/11/lisas-current-favorites.html' title='Lisa&apos;s Current Favorites'/><author><name>Martha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14393128539546879168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dTFpUPPauE0/TeTiOPKVVuI/AAAAAAAAAJU/iEaesWSqB6E/s220/IMG_0843.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
