October 31, 2015 by IdealisticRebel

Happy Hallowe’en

Happy Hallowe’en to all my readers and friends.

I’ve decided to be totally not serious, and not deal with reality in honor of it being Hallowe’en.

Some of you may remember these songs; for some of you they may be new. But they’re some of my favorite “monster” songs, from when I was young.

The first is Vincent Price doing a wonderful cover of the Monster Mash. For those of you who are too young to know the wonderful Mr. Price, he ruled the Horror films in the 50’s and 60’s, and did the ghoulish rap at end of Michael Jackson’s Thriller.

Flying Purple Eater is what was called a “novelty song” from the 60’s and it’s always been one of my favorites, never failing to make me laugh!

I have to go now, to chase the Zombies on the River!

Have a ghoulishly good day!

Monsterously yours,
Barbara

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Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea

That a maiden thre lived who you may know

By the name of ANNABLE LEE;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea:

But we loved with a love that more than love —

I and my ANNABEL LEE;

With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, lonb ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;

So that her high-born kinsman came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,

Went envying her and me —

Yes!–That was the reason (as all men known,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

CHilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we —

Of many far wiser than we —

And neither the angels in heaven above,

NOr the demons down under the sea,

Can ever disserver my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE,

For the moon never beams, without bringing my dreams

Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride,

In the sepulchre there by the sea,

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

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October 11, 2015 by IdealisticRebel

Farmwife

Farmwife

The woman who has nodded to me from her porch

for weeks, still nodes now, bobs her head

leading me inside to see

21 grandchildren posed on a shelf,

sills full of colored glass.

Twice, I heard, she left her husband

and then returned

He stays outside with the dogs,

hollering them away from the barn.

Chickens flutter and squall,

leaving patches of brown feathers.

She says she’s been nodding 26 years.

The doctor calls it ‘the trembles’

but she knows something sharper

is pecking her brain.

Twice his fists have hit,

knocked her against the wall.

Twice she’s returned

to faces of grandchildren

perfectly still in the tilt

of their frames, glass

shining on every sill,

to hens squawking themselves into trees

whenever a dog comes near.

She sweeps up the puddles

of brown and white feathers

that fear send flying,

pours them into ticking

to cushion her relentless,

affirming head.

–Betsy Sholl

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Arden, North Carolina. Photograph and copyright by Barbara Mattio 2015

September 16, 2015 by IdealisticRebel

Kahlil Gibran

Khalil Gibran is the author of The Prophet and is known through the world as the immortal Prophet of Lebanon and the Savant of the time. He wrote in Arabic and his works have been translated into English and other languages. I hope you enjoy what I have selected.

Song of the Rain

“I am dotted silver threads dropped from heaven

by the gods. Nature then takes me, to adorn

Her fields and valleys.

I am beautiful pearls, plucked from the

Crown of Ishtar by the daughter of Dawn

To embellish the gardens.

When I cry the hills laugh;

When I humble myself the flowers rejoice;

When I bow, all things are elated.

The field and the cloud are lovers

And between them I am a messenger of mercy.

I quench the thirst of the one;

I cure the ailment of the other.

The voice of thunder declares my arrival;

The rainbow announces my departure,

I am like earthly life, which begins at

The feet of the mad elements and ends

Under the upraised wings of death.

I emerge from the heart of the sea and

Soar with the breeze. When I see a field in

Need, I descend and embrace the flowers and

The trees in a million little ways.

I touch gently as the windows with my

Soft fingers, and my announcement is a

Welcome song. All can hear, but only

The sensitive can understand.

The heat in the air gives birth to me,

But in turn I kill it,

As woman overcomes man with

The strength she takes from him.

I am the sigh of the sea;

The laughter of the field;

The tears of heaven.

So with love—

Sighs from the deep sea of affliction;

Laughter from the colorful field of the spirit;

Tears from the endless heaven of memories.”

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Photograph and copyright by Barbara Mattio 2014

My Soul

My soul is my friend who consoles me in misery and distress of life. He who does not befriend his soul is an enemy of humanity, and he who does not find human guidance within himself will perish desperately. Life emerges from within, and derives not from environs.

I came to say a word and I shall say it now. But if death prevents its uttering, it will be said by Tomorrow, for Tomorrow never leaves a secret in the book of Eternity.

I came to live in the glory of Love and the light of Beauty, which are the reflections of God. I am here living, and the people are unable to exile me from the domain of life for they know I will live in death. If they pluck my eyes I will hearken to the murmurs of Love and the songs of Beauty.

If they close my ears I will enjoy the touch of the breeze mixed with the incense of Love and the fragrance of Beauty.

If they place me in vacuum, I will live together with my soul, the child of Love and Beauty.

I came here to be for all and with all, and what I do today in my solitude will be echoed by Tomorrow to the people.

What I say now with one heart will be said tomorrow by many hearts.

—khalil Gibran

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August 9, 2015 by IdealisticRebel

Sunday thoughts

” Are you looking for Me?

I am in the next seat.

My shoulder is against yours.

You will not find Me in stupas,

not in Indian shrine rooms,

nor synagogues, nor in cathedrals,

not in masses, nor kirtans,

not in legs winding around your own neck,

nor in eating nothing but vegetables.

When you really look for Me,

you will see Me instantly—

You will find Me in the tiniest house of time.”

—Khabir, a thirteenth century Eastern poet

Holden Beach, NC Photographed and copyright by Barbara Mattio 2015

April 27, 2015 by IdealisticRebel

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar was a true American son. He was born in 1872. He was the son of freed Kentucky slaves. He became a published poet at fourteen. His first book was, Oak and Ivy. He sold it to riders on his elevator as they rode with them.

He moved to Chicago and became friends with Frederick Douglas. He was an internationally recognized poet.

“Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing;

I look far out into the pregnant night,

Where I can hear a soleman booming gun

And catch the gleaming of a random light,

That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing.

My tearful eyes my soul’s deep hurt are glassing;

For I would hail and check that ship of ships.

I stretch my hands imploring, cry aloud,

My voice falls dead a foot from mine own lips,

And but its ghost doth reach that vessel, passing, passing

O Earth, O Sky, O Ocean, both surpassing,

O heart of mine, O soul that dreads the dark!

Is there no hope for me? Is there no way

That I may sight and check that speeding bark

Which out of sight and sound is passing, passing?

—Paul Laurence Dunbar, Ships That Pass in the Night

Justice will bring peace

March 4, 2015 by IdealisticRebel

Eastern Thoughts

Many of us enjoy reading the poetry of Rumi, Hafiz, Kabir and others. I always feel as if I have been in the presence of God. Whatever form of the Divine you follow, their words take us into his/her presence. This is the same kind of experience. I hope you can enjoy these beautiful Zoroastrian words.

In Thy image let me pattern my life, Oh Ahuramazda,

Let me awake with Thy name on my lips,

In my eyes let me ever carry Thy image,

To enable me to perceive Thee and

Thee alone in everyone else.

Let my mind never waver elsewhere except

to hold Thee in mind.

Let me ever sing songs of praise for Thee.

Let me dance with joy ever in Thy presence.

Let me await Thee patiently for Thy coming

Let that be my everlasting joy.

To be with Thee forevermore.

I await Thee, Thee and Thee alone.

I seek none but Thee.

I long for Thee, I yearn for Thee.

Bless me with Thy vision and let me hold

That enchanted Vision every in my memory,

To Thy Glory, Oh Ahuramazda.

Teach me to knock, teach me to sing, to clim

So that the door may open with sweet music,

That will lull me to the world of creation,

World of geniuses, who all sing one song,

the song of Praise to Thee.

Oh Ahuramazda, I long for Thee,

I await Thee in patience, when shall I perceive?

When shalt Thou bequeath?

I patience I kneel and bow.

I await in silence, in expectation.

Have mercy on this aching heart.

Transform me with Thy Divine Touch.

My aching heart calls out to Thee.

My anguish can only cease with Thy Divine Touch.

I await Thee, I surrender to Thee.

I look forward to They coming in silent meditation.

–A Zoroastrian Prayer which is recited before meditating

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The Dove of Peace.

February 14, 2015 by IdealisticRebel

Love is in the Air

I dedicate this poem to everyone. Everyone of us who has experienced love. I send hugs to all who have loved and then lost that love. This year, my husband will have been gone twenty years. Hearts to all.

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HOW DO I LOVE THEE? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints, —I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! —And, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

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Love is the sweetest and most painful of emotions. Some say that love is a state of mind. I like what Gibran has to say about love. We experience love every day from somewhere, but let it not bound you and let your being be whole within the love.

LOVE ONE ANOTHER

From The Prophet

Khalil Gibran

Love one another, but make not a bond of love.

Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other’s cup but drink not from one cup.

Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.

Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone.

Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give you hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.

For only the land of Life can contain your hearts.

And stand together yet not too near together

For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.

Thank you for being part of my WordPress family. I love you all. Hearts, Barbara

February 11, 2015 by IdealisticRebel

Eastern Poetry and Thought

The poet who cannot express his poetry in his life is not complete. He/she has not reached that stage where his poetry can be called a ripened poetry. It is not what we say, it is what we are. We each express our heart, soul and condition in all we do. But the tendency of receiving all the beauty we can receive, and giving it to others—that is the poetic tendency, and this grows into the Prophetic tendency.

The dancing soul cannot express itself except in rhythm and in poetry. It cannot refrain from expressing itself in a music which appeals to other souls.

The Word of an Opening Rose

“Last night’s storm was a journey to the Beloved.

I surrender to that, the wind that

is my friend, and my work.

Each night, the lightening flashes.

Every morning, a breeze.

Not in some protected place, but in the flood

of the heart’s pumping in the wind

of a rosebud’s opening out,

that puts a small crown on each narcissus.

A tired hand collapse, exhausted,

that in the morning holds your hair again.

Peace comes when we are friends together,

remembering. Hafiz! Your honest desire

and your benevolence free the soul

to emerge as what it is.” —-The poet Hafiz

It is said that the poetry of Hafiz and Rumi is living energy. I can understand their words in this manner.

I’ve become a rabid fan of Divine Order for one good reason. For all my supposed intelligence, I would routinely feel overwhelmed and frozen by life’s never-ending problems and decisions. Now I invoke the Divine Order to connect with the cosmos.

“Let every aspect of this journey unfolded in harmony.

Let Divine Order arrange and show me every detail.

Let me be gently guided to my path and I will follow

where I am shown where to go.”

Some days, we all need some humor. I have over a foot of snow here. So you get humor!!!

“Let the beauty we love be what we do.” —Rumi

The Dalai Lama

The Dove of Peace.

February 8, 2015 by IdealisticRebel

Rumi’s Sun

I hope everyone enjoys this wisdom from Rumi.

Namaste

February 1, 2015 by IdealisticRebel

Women’s Voices

There was a time when women had strong voices. They were lovers, mothers, healers, and midwives. Then came the “Burning Times”. Women and children called witches and tortured with drowning, hanging and burning. Millions were killed in Europe and really no woman was safe.

This was followed by Patriarchy and the silencing of women’s voices. There have been a few women through the years who discovered their voices but it was unusual. The Suffragettes found their vocal chords and their mouths and women have been speaking ever since. Of course, the louder we speak, the more some people close their minds off from truth and equality.

Clearing the Air

It’s been ten years since you tried to kill me.

Biking home one night, I saw only your legs

stepping behind a tree, then you fell on my throat

like a cat. My books crashed the birds out of sleep.

We rolled in the leaves like lovers. My eyes popped

like Christmas lights, veins snapped, your teeth wore

my blood, your fingers left bars on my neck.

I can’t remember your name,

and I saw your face only in court.

You sat in a box, docile as old shoes.

And I, who had never felt any man’s weight