Where is the sea I haven't sailed? Show it to me so that in the showing
it can't be said again!
Where is landfall. I know it is but it has been to long knot!
Where is my warm dry bed? With my wife there warming me,
loving me for the returning.
Where is my son that has grown and followed his father to an angry sea?
My daughter, married and gone far away with a farmer man whose sea is waves
of grain on a flat ocean of land.
Oh Lord, did I wrong those I loved by my longing to be in your arms?
Nay!
The ocean is your song and I am but a ghost and insignificent
in the vast world of wind, tide and sea.
Forgive me for my love of it! But it is grand!
And I am blessed to sail upon many waters.
Your ocean is my destiny...I can not live without you!
About Me
- Robbin
- Sacramento, California, United States
- so salty pieces of coral from surfing Hawaii in the 60's and 70's getting reef pounded living in my body fall through my skin from time to time!
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Watch, Whose Watch
Whose watch does a navigator love? Yours! On your watch I can make no mistakes! If I give
you a heading and you can't or don't keep it, it's the captains fault. I can wonder why till the day that
I die? Is a given heading a hard course? What? You saw lights, maybe a lighthouse warning you of
the danger of driving at night with no lights? Oh, you had an original idea that you know more than the
one who reads the sextant! Wake the navigator up! Don't bother the Captain! What does he know?
The Captain trusts his navigator. Shouldn't you? If not, Why knot? A watch watches. A skipper
skips and a navigator navigates! When a watch skips a navigator, what happens?
That depends. Did someone feel or hear a change brought about by watch? Before any cataclismic
damage was done to vessel and/or crew? Yes? Once onboard a sailor is in tune to every nuance his
exoskeleton ( his vessel ) can make. It is a finely tuned instrument that sings as the ocean and wind place
it where it will. But safety and direction are the navigators. He has time on his accurate chronometer
(watch) distance measured by speed over water and Earth with stars, Moon and Sun announcing, " Here is where I am"!
How can a watcher, tell The Watcher, what to watch for? Be Leary but not Timithy! Before changing
course, always ask someone wiser than you, "What is the best course"? Then go your own way and be
prepared for the price you must pay. This is how we learn.. There has got to be a more affordable way!
Sometimes learning is a life and death experience. So is sailing with a good navigator and a crew with a mind of their own! Arrgh, aground are we on a lee shore? Die dogs!!!!!!
you a heading and you can't or don't keep it, it's the captains fault. I can wonder why till the day that
I die? Is a given heading a hard course? What? You saw lights, maybe a lighthouse warning you of
the danger of driving at night with no lights? Oh, you had an original idea that you know more than the
one who reads the sextant! Wake the navigator up! Don't bother the Captain! What does he know?
The Captain trusts his navigator. Shouldn't you? If not, Why knot? A watch watches. A skipper
skips and a navigator navigates! When a watch skips a navigator, what happens?
That depends. Did someone feel or hear a change brought about by watch? Before any cataclismic
damage was done to vessel and/or crew? Yes? Once onboard a sailor is in tune to every nuance his
exoskeleton ( his vessel ) can make. It is a finely tuned instrument that sings as the ocean and wind place
it where it will. But safety and direction are the navigators. He has time on his accurate chronometer
(watch) distance measured by speed over water and Earth with stars, Moon and Sun announcing, " Here is where I am"!
How can a watcher, tell The Watcher, what to watch for? Be Leary but not Timithy! Before changing
course, always ask someone wiser than you, "What is the best course"? Then go your own way and be
prepared for the price you must pay. This is how we learn.. There has got to be a more affordable way!
Sometimes learning is a life and death experience. So is sailing with a good navigator and a crew with a mind of their own! Arrgh, aground are we on a lee shore? Die dogs!!!!!!
LEONARD COHEN LYRICS
This is important. More important than my meaningless meandering
through hollow portals of past experiences I may or may not remember.
As they were or weren't doesn't hold a candle to this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vHI9BTpGkp8
LEONARD COHEN LYRICS
"Democracy"
It's coming through a hole in the air,
from those nights in Tiananmen Square.
It's coming from the feel
that this ain't exactly real,
or it's real, but it ain't exactly there.
From the wars against disorder,
from the sirens night and day,
from the fires of the homeless,
from the ashes of the gay:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming through a crack in the wall;
on a visionary flood of alcohol;
from the staggering account
of the Sermon on the Mount
which I don't pretend to understand at all.
It's coming from the silence
on the dock of the bay,
from the brave, the bold, the battered
heart of Chevrolet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming from the sorrow in the street,
the holy places where the races meet;
from the homicidal bitchin'
that goes down in every kitchen
to determine who will serve and who will eat.
From the wells of disappointment
where the women kneel to pray
for the grace of God in the desert here
and the desert far away:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.
It's coming to America first,
the cradle of the best and of the worst.
It's here they got the range
and the machinery for change
and it's here they got the spiritual thirst.
It's here the family's broken
and it's here the lonely say
that the heart has got to open
in a fundamental way:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming from the women and the men.
O baby, we'll be making love again.
We'll be going down so deep
the river's going to weep,
and the mountain's going to shout Amen!
It's coming like the tidal flood
beneath the lunar sway,
imperial, mysterious,
in amorous array:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on ...
I'm sentimental, if you know what I mean
I love the country but I can't stand the scene.
And I'm neither left or right
I'm just staying home tonight,
getting lost in that hopeless little screen.
But I'm stubborn as those garbage bags
that Time cannot decay,
I'm junk but I'm still holding up
this little wild bouquet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
through hollow portals of past experiences I may or may not remember.
As they were or weren't doesn't hold a candle to this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vHI9BTpGkp8
LEONARD COHEN LYRICS
"Democracy"
It's coming through a hole in the air,
from those nights in Tiananmen Square.
It's coming from the feel
that this ain't exactly real,
or it's real, but it ain't exactly there.
From the wars against disorder,
from the sirens night and day,
from the fires of the homeless,
from the ashes of the gay:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming through a crack in the wall;
on a visionary flood of alcohol;
from the staggering account
of the Sermon on the Mount
which I don't pretend to understand at all.
It's coming from the silence
on the dock of the bay,
from the brave, the bold, the battered
heart of Chevrolet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming from the sorrow in the street,
the holy places where the races meet;
from the homicidal bitchin'
that goes down in every kitchen
to determine who will serve and who will eat.
From the wells of disappointment
where the women kneel to pray
for the grace of God in the desert here
and the desert far away:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.
It's coming to America first,
the cradle of the best and of the worst.
It's here they got the range
and the machinery for change
and it's here they got the spiritual thirst.
It's here the family's broken
and it's here the lonely say
that the heart has got to open
in a fundamental way:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming from the women and the men.
O baby, we'll be making love again.
We'll be going down so deep
the river's going to weep,
and the mountain's going to shout Amen!
It's coming like the tidal flood
beneath the lunar sway,
imperial, mysterious,
in amorous array:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on ...
I'm sentimental, if you know what I mean
I love the country but I can't stand the scene.
And I'm neither left or right
I'm just staying home tonight,
getting lost in that hopeless little screen.
But I'm stubborn as those garbage bags
that Time cannot decay,
I'm junk but I'm still holding up
this little wild bouquet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Just A Couple Of Friends
Alter ego? The Id....The Ego......and the Super EGO?
The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit (Ghost)?
The Prodigal son returns to the father and we place some shrimp on the barbie?
I came, I saw, I conquered?
Triune?
Extended family?
Your guess is as good as mine?
What's there to live for?
Progeny?
Please allow me to introduce myself.........
On broadway
Get high with a little help from
Thinking is creating!
Arrghh we armed for combat, matey?
Fetch me my glass....not my eye, fool!
Let them eat what Abbos eat! Larve!
water, water everywhere, not in the Sahara
How deep is water?
How cold is snow?
Where are you, now?
Do you remember tomarrow? Yesterday?
Is is not to be confused with was was!
How about?
So much trouble with so little imput?
Pay attention to the tide! It rocks....
Ebb and flood is a bill you haven't paid!
My mind? I hope you don't.....cause I do!
Game. Know, as in no!
Dice, risky at best, probabillity factor?
No dice.....Golf! Drive for show, putt for dough!
Math is real. Coin toss.......heads I win, tails you lose.....every time!
So the three are we.
Simply, you and me, never together.
always forever alone.
Together, almost never,
Qualified, certified and hog tied
from the beginning,
two or three?
And I ask me?
Can't you sea?
Than I answered a question
that wasn't asked?
Forgive me nothing............
The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit (Ghost)?
The Prodigal son returns to the father and we place some shrimp on the barbie?
I came, I saw, I conquered?
Triune?
Extended family?
Your guess is as good as mine?
What's there to live for?
Progeny?
Please allow me to introduce myself.........
On broadway
Get high with a little help from
Thinking is creating!
Arrghh we armed for combat, matey?
Fetch me my glass....not my eye, fool!
Let them eat what Abbos eat! Larve!
water, water everywhere, not in the Sahara
How deep is water?
How cold is snow?
Where are you, now?
Do you remember tomarrow? Yesterday?
Is is not to be confused with was was!
How about?
So much trouble with so little imput?
Pay attention to the tide! It rocks....
Ebb and flood is a bill you haven't paid!
My mind? I hope you don't.....cause I do!
Game. Know, as in no!
Dice, risky at best, probabillity factor?
No dice.....Golf! Drive for show, putt for dough!
Math is real. Coin toss.......heads I win, tails you lose.....every time!
So the three are we.
Simply, you and me, never together.
always forever alone.
Together, almost never,
Qualified, certified and hog tied
from the beginning,
two or three?
And I ask me?
Can't you sea?
Than I answered a question
that wasn't asked?
Forgive me nothing............
Friday, December 3, 2010
Unknown-hopefully thought provoking.
I recommend breaking the roots of a shallow fellowship, squandered by ties that are meaningless.
When one's life is jeapordized or comprimized by a childish loyalty or fellowship bound, as if written in stone; because of a behavior and false loyalty that constricts a freedom of spirit and does place chains and constrainsts upon an exploration of freedom itself, let it go or beware.
A friend lost, is nothing, more or less, than a new Son dawning on a today horizon. Today one's childhood is forgotten. Never to be remembered; no matter how hard one tries! In rememberance is falsehood. Despicable memories shaped by what one wished was true and buried that truth in a re-writing of a wish into
a dream that becomes stronger and more true in the lie of the telling. I say," scream"!
Truth does not exist in shadow. Honesty lives for light. Captain James Cook was more than a great
Captain. History has no need of a re-write about him. It is logged! He knew Bly..... Captain Bly was a prick. Great sailor, miraculous navigator, lousy Captain.
Not everyone is designed to be great. Recognized. Highly regarded. If one asked great men how they arrived in a particular special place of enoblement or a position of respect by their peers, I promise you their uniform answer is, " I did nothing more than anyone would have done, faced with the particulars of that moment in time"! "I am not a hero". "I am everyman and nothing more".
My hope is that in the fiction of my life there may just be some truth to it. Some small meaning that carries the rudiments of the love that I would pray fell upon, not just my family, but upon the family of man.
When one's life is jeapordized or comprimized by a childish loyalty or fellowship bound, as if written in stone; because of a behavior and false loyalty that constricts a freedom of spirit and does place chains and constrainsts upon an exploration of freedom itself, let it go or beware.
A friend lost, is nothing, more or less, than a new Son dawning on a today horizon. Today one's childhood is forgotten. Never to be remembered; no matter how hard one tries! In rememberance is falsehood. Despicable memories shaped by what one wished was true and buried that truth in a re-writing of a wish into
a dream that becomes stronger and more true in the lie of the telling. I say," scream"!
Truth does not exist in shadow. Honesty lives for light. Captain James Cook was more than a great
Captain. History has no need of a re-write about him. It is logged! He knew Bly..... Captain Bly was a prick. Great sailor, miraculous navigator, lousy Captain.
Not everyone is designed to be great. Recognized. Highly regarded. If one asked great men how they arrived in a particular special place of enoblement or a position of respect by their peers, I promise you their uniform answer is, " I did nothing more than anyone would have done, faced with the particulars of that moment in time"! "I am not a hero". "I am everyman and nothing more".
My hope is that in the fiction of my life there may just be some truth to it. Some small meaning that carries the rudiments of the love that I would pray fell upon, not just my family, but upon the family of man.
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