a village
:p
There's no harm in seeing humor in things;
Take care not to miss the rest.
a linker
Stick and stones, folks. Sticks and stones.
His art is not hurt or lessened by any passing impressions... of sensational news?
His art is not supported or strengthened... by finger pointing and name-calling?
Let's celebrate the humanity of his music, non? Let's not trip or skip over his passing
( Read New York Times Op-Ed Article )
Listen, children, to a story
That was written long ago,
'Bout a kingdom on a mountain
And the valley-folk below.
On the mountain was a treasure
Buried deep beneath the stone,
And the valley-people swore
They'd have it for their very own.
Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.
So the people of the valley
Sent a message up the hill,
Asking for the buried treasure,
Tons of gold for which they'd kill.
Came an answer from the kingdom,
"With our brothers we will share
All the secrets of our mountain,
All the riches buried there."
Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.
Now the valley cried with anger,
"Mount your horses! Draw your sword!"
And they killed the mountain-people,
So they won their just reward.
Now they stood beside the treasure,
On the mountain, dark and red.
Turned the stone and looked beneath it...
"Peace on Earth" was all it said.
Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.
Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after....
One tin soldier rides away.
You won't find "reduced risk of cancer" on most lists of the effects of Down Syndrome (Trisomy 21), but scientists have long known that people with the condition rarely get most types of cancer. Now, a Harvard study has identified one of the factors that protects people with Down Syndrome against tumors. The discovery could lead to new methods of protecting all patients against cancer.
to box me
to frame me
to own me
in thoughts
in words
your 'near'
your 'far'
your 'mine'
your 'yours'
your 'right'
your 'wrong'
your 'truth'
your 'lies'
and more?
to confine me
to slow me down
"what for?"
apologize
for all the world
out side your
acceptable spaces and
you would
blame
that i remind you
of More?
This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine
let it shine,
let it shine,
let it shine!
you create it
that is nobattlefor me
C'est une ville que je connais
Une chanson que je chantais
Y a du sang sur le trottoir
C'est sa voix, poussière brûlée
C'est ses ongles sur le blindé
Ils l'ont battu à mort, il a froid, il a peur
J'entends battre son coeur
De n'importe quel pays, de n'importe quelle couleur
...
Il vivait avec des mots
Qu'on passait sous le manteau
Qui brillaient comme des couteaux.
Il jouait d'la dérision
Comme d'une arme de précision
Il est sur le ciment, mais ses chansons maudites
On les connaît par coeur
La musique a parfois des accords majeurs
Qui font rire les enfants mais pas les dictateurs
De n'importe quel pays, de n'importe quelle couleur
La musique est un cri qui vient de l'intérieur
Ça dépend des latitudes
Ça dépend d'ton attitude
C'est cent ans de solitude
Y a du sang sur mon piano
Y a des bottes sur mon tempo
Au-dessous du volcan, je l'entends, je l'entends
J'entends battre son coeur
La musique parfois a des accords mineurs
Qui font grincer les dents du grand libérateur
De n'importe quel pays, de n'importe quelle couleur
...
La musique est un cri qui vient de l'intérieur
C'est une ville que je connais
Une chanson que je chantais
Une chanson qui nous ressemble
C'est la voix de Mendela
Le tempo docteur Fela
Ecoute chanter la foule
Avec les mots qui roulent et font battre son cœur
...
...
De n'importe quel pays, de n'importe quelle couleur
La musique est un cri qui vient de l'intérieur
De n'importe quel pays, de n'importe quelle couleur
La musique est un cri qui vient de l'intérieur
De n'importe quel pays, de n'importe quelle couleur
La musique est un cri qui vient de l'intérieur
some words of caution ::
tomorrow,
museums, curricula
may not flinch
to feature
your trash
and gloss over
your treasure
Cashier: How you doin', sweetie? :)
healingkid: No worries here, no complaints! :o
Cashier: I know that's right! :D
Cashier: Is that a brass knuckles? o_O
healingkid: It's a keyring (karabiner); it can be used as brass knuckles if needed:
healingkid: but we work hard to make sure that doesn't happen :o