Keira Brigit Pauline

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on September 04, 2009

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Prophet Kangnamgu said…

Yip, definitely a "chick with brains"!

September 28, 2009 at 8:56 AM

Hades Welcomes His Bride

While an undergraduate student at Andrews University I took a poetry class. I studied some of A.E. Stallings' poetry. She studied lots of classical poetry and literature of Greece. She does translation of poetry from Greek to English. An interesting thing she said was that when she was at university to study ancient, Greek poetry, she came across some poems that described early springtime flowers such as hyacinths blooming at the same time as later spring flowers. She interpreted that as a "golden age". She was later surprised when visiting the Greek countryside and finding those flowers blooming at the same time . She said that sometimes we do have to take things literally. This poem gave me the chills when I first read it. It is so deep and dark. Hades Welcomes His Bride Come now, child, adjust your eyes, for sight Is here a lesser sense. Here you must learn Directions through your fingertips and feet And map them in your mind. I think some shapes Will gradually...

Sheet Music I Bought On Ebay Today!!!!

Nocturne in E-Flat Op. 9, No 2 by Frederic Francois Chopin The Musical Snuffbox Opus 32 by Anatol Constantinovitch Liadov Scotch Poem Op. 31, No 2. by Edward MacDowell Waltz in G Flat Op. 70, No. 1 by Frederic Francois Chopin Playera / Spanish Dance Op. 5, No. 5 by Enrique Granados Waltz in D Flat Op. 64, No. 1 by Frederic Francois Chopin Moment Musicale in F Minor Op. 94, No. 3 by Franz Peter Schubert Witches' Dance by Edward MacDowell Scarf Dance Op. 37, No. 3 by Cecile Louise Stephanie Chaminade To Spring Op. 43, No. 6 by Edvard Grieg The Evening Star by Richard Wilhelm Wagner Johann Pachelbel's Canon Fifteen Two Part Inventions by Johann Sebastian Bach (no cover and lots of tears) Edvard Grieg Compositions for Piano - Papillion Selections of Piano Favorites Lose Blatter / Flying Leaves Carl Kolling

Ode to a Cluster of Violets

Ode to a Cluster of Violets - by Pablo Neruda - Crisp cluster plunged in shadow. Drops of violet water and raw sunlight floated up with your scent. A fresh subterranean beauty climbed up from your buds thrilling my eyes and my life. One at a time, flowers that stretched forward silvery stalks, creeping closer to an obscure light shoot by shoot in the shadows, till they crowned the mysterious mass with an intense weight of perfume and together formed a single star with a far-off scent and a purple center. Poignant cluster intimate scent of nature, you resemble a wave, or a head of hair, or the gaze of a ruined water nymph sunk in the depths. But up close, in your fragrance’s blue brazenness, you exhale the earth, an earthly flower, an earthen smell and your ultraviolet gleam in volcanoes’ faraway fires. Into your loveliness I sink a weathered face, a face that dust has often abused. You deliver something out of the soil. It isn’t simply perfume, nor simply the perfect cry of your entire...

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