Tag Archives: Johnny Cash

Words For The Weekend (Rusty Cages, Changes and Kookaburras), Volume 24r (repost)

Hi everyone! Figured I’d revisit one of my favorite weekend posts (original HERE) back from early January. (How are you doing on those resolutions, by the way?) I should have some new material for you next weekend. Also, I’ve got a little surprise planned for you on Tuesday, so be sure to stop back by when you get some time. In the mean time, have a wonderful week! ~ Love, Christy

This is the latest installment of quotes and words that move me for the weekend of 01/05/13 (Volume 24). I hope you enjoy them too.

~~~

“You wired me awake
And hit me with a hand of broken nails
You tied my lead and pulled my chain
To watch my blood begin to boil

But I’m gonna break
I’m gonna break my
I’m gonna break my rusty cage and run
Yeah I’m gonna break my
I’m gonna break my
I’m gonna break my rusty cage and run”

~ Johnny Cash (covering Soundgarden) on album “Unchained” (video)

*

Alternate song: Changes by David Bowie on album “Hunky Dory” (video)

“I still don’t know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I’d got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I’ve never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I’m much too fast to take that test…

Time may change me
But I can’t trace time”

*

“People always did like to talk, didn’t they? That’s why I call myself a witch now: the Wicked Witch of the West, if you want the full glory of it. As long as people are going to call you a lunatic anyway, why not get the benefit of it? It liberates you from convention.” ~ Gregory Maguire, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West

*

“The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.” ~ Gloria Steinem

*

“The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role. You trade in your sense for an act. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask. There can’t be any large-scale revolution until there’s a personal revolution, on an individual level. It’s got to happen inside first.” ~ Jim Morrison

*

“You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.” ~ Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon

*

“Lock up your libraries if you like, but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.” ~ Virginia Woolf, A Room Of One’s Own

*

“Liberation, I guess, is everybody getting what they think they want, without knowing the whole truth. Or in other words, liberation finally amounts to being free from things we don’t like in order to be enslaved by things we approve of. Here’s to the eternal tandem.” ~ Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

*

“Ohh just like all the seasons never stay the same
All around me I can feel a change (ohh)

I will break these chains that bind me, happiness will find me
Leave the past behind me, today my life begins
A whole new world is waiting it’s mine for the takin’
I know I can make it, today my life begins”
~ Bruno Mars “Today My Life Begins” (video)

*

“Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.” ~ Leo Tolstoy

*

“Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you.” ~ John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

*

“They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.” ~ Andy Warhol, The Philosophy of Andy Warhol

*

“Love can change a person the way a parent can change a baby- awkwardly, and often with a great deal of mess.” ~ Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can’t Avoid

*

“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.” ~ Eric Roth, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button screenplay

*

The Kookaburras by Mary Oliver

In every heart there is a coward and a procrastinator.
In every heart there is a god of flowers, just waiting
to stride out of a cloud and lift its wings.
The kookaburras, pressed against the edge of their cage,
asked me to open the door.
Years later I remember how I didn’t do it,
how instead I walked away.
They had the brown eyes of soft-hearted dogs.
They didn’t want to do anything so extraordinary, only to fly
home to their river.
By now I suppose the great darkness has covered them.
As for myself, I am not yet a god of even the palest flowers.
Nothing else has changed either.
Someone tosses their white bones to the dung-heap.
The sun shines on the latch of their cage.
I lie in the dark, my heart pounding.

Mary Oliver from House of Light

*

And to end on a funny note, I had to steal this from Guap’s blog, Guapola:

updated-new-years-resolutions

Happy 2013 everyone!

~~~

Words For The Weekend (The Poetry Edition. Plus Gus, Johnny, Shel and Nina), Volume 38

This is the latest installment of quotes and words that move me for the weekend of 6/8/13 (Volume 38). I hope you enjoy them too. Feel free to share your favorite quotes, poems or videos in the comments.

This week is a selection of poetry (musical and written) that I’ve been wanting to share for a while. A tad lengthy, but I’m making up for the last two reposts.

*

A special mention first — Gus Sanchez blogs at OutWhereTheBusesDon’tRun, and he has been a long-time supporter of RunningOnSober. Well, Gus recently published his first book Out Where the Buses Don’t Run: Seven Years of Rants, Raves, Dirty Jokes, and Bad Ideas From a Small But Loud Corner of the Blogospherea collection of work from his many years blogging. Gus is a fellow music lover and runner, he has a wicked sense of humor, he’s a talented writer and cheerleader for aspiring wordsmiths, and the word “sober” doesn’t send him screaming and running for the hills. (Though, don’t mention Ayn Rand or James Patterson to him without expecting a rant.)

Gus is offering a free .pdf file or electronic version of his book, for a limited time, in exchange for an honest review on either Amazon or Goodreads — it doesn’t even have to be a positive review, just honest. Click HERE for Gus’s contact e-mail and details on how to obtain your free copy of his book. You can also click HERE to purchase directly from Amazon. Check him out, he’s a good guy, and I know he’ll appreciate your support.

~~~

“My daddy left home when I was three
And he didn’t leave much to ma and me
Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don’t blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me Sue…”

“A Boy Named Sue” written by Shel Silverstein and performed by Johnny Cash, available on album The Essential Johnny Cash (video)

Shel and Johnny perform a snippet of this song on The Johnny Cash Show (video). You know I’m a huge Shel fan (here and here), I’ve even spotlighted him once (here.) BUT, I HAD NEVER HEARD HIM SING. You’re in for a special treat! He reminds me of a combo of Louis Armstrong, Bobcat Goldthwait and Crazy Harry–the muppet who was always blowing stuff up (see HERE for a fun video of Crazy Harry and the fabulous and recently departed Jean Stapleton performing together on The Muppet Show)

*

Alternate song: “Wild Is The Wind” performed by Nina Simone on album “Wild Is The Wind,” video link HERE. (This song is absolute poetry set to music. The power of Nina’s emoting, the longing, the building tension… sigh. It’s the ultimate love poem to me.)

“Love me love me love me
Say you do
Let me fly away
With you
For my love is like
The wind
And wild is the wind…

You
Touch me
I hear the sound
Of mandolins…”

*

The Guest House — by Rumi, translation by Coleman Barks

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

– Jelaluddin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks, The Essential Rumi

*

505 I would not paint — a picture – by Emily Dickinson

I would not paint—a picture —
I’d rather be the One
It’s bright impossibility
To dwell— delicious — on—
And wonder how the fingers feel
Whose rare — celestial — stir —
Evokes so sweet a Torment—
Such sumptuous—Despair —

I would not talk, like Cornets —
I’d rather be the One
Raised softly to the Ceilings —
And out, and easy on—
Through Villages of Ether —
Myself endued Balloon
By but a lip of Metal —
The pier to my Pontoon —

Nor would I be a Poet—
It’s finer own the Ear—
Enamored — impotent — content—
The License to revere,
A privilege so awful
What would the Dower be,
Had I the Art to stun myself
With Bolts of Melody!

“#505″ by Emily Dickinson. The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

*

Iowa City to Boulder – by William Matthews

I take most of the drive by night.
It’s cool and in the dark my lapsed
inspection can’t be seen.
I sing and make myself promises.

By dawn on the high plains
I’m driving tired and cagey.
Red-winged blackbirds
on the mileposts, like candle flames,
flare their wings for balance
in the blasts of truck wakes.

The dust of not sleeping
drifts in my mouth, and five or six
miles slur by uncounted.
I say I hate long-distance

drives but I love them.
The flat light stains the foothills
pale and I speed up the canyon
to sleep until the little lull
the insects take at dusk before
they say their names all night in the loud field.

“Iowa City to Boulder” by William Matthews, from Search Party. © Houghton Mifflin, 2004.

*

Advice to Myself — by Louise Erdrich

Leave the dishes. Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator
and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.
Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.
Throw the cracked bowl out and don’t patch the cup.
Don’t patch anything. Don’t mend. Buy safety pins.
Don’t even sew on a button.
Let the wind have its way, then the earth
that invades as dust and then the dead
foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.
Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.
Don’t keep all the pieces of the puzzles
or the doll’s tiny shoes in pairs, don’t worry
who uses whose toothbrush or if anything
matches, at all.
Except one word to another. Or a thought.
Pursue the authentic—decide first
what is authentic,
then go after it with all your heart.
Your heart, that place
you don’t even think of cleaning out.
That closet stuffed with savage mementos.
Don’t sort the paper clips from screws from saved baby teeth
or worry if we’re all eating cereal for dinner
again. Don’t answer the telephone, ever,
or weep over anything at all that breaks.
Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons
in the refrigerator. Accept new forms of life
and talk to the dead
who drift in through the screened windows, who collect
patiently on the tops of food jars and books.
Recycle the mail, don’t read it, don’t read anything
except what destroys
the insulation between yourself and your experience
or what pulls down or what strikes at or what shatters
this ruse you call necessity.

“Advice to Myself” by Louise Erdrich from Original Fire. © Harper Collins Publishers, 2003.

*

Good People — by W.S. Merwin

From the kindness of my parents
I suppose it was that I held
that belief about suffering

imagining that if only
it could come to the attention
of any person with normal
feelings certainly anyone
literate who might have gone

to college they would comprehend
pain when it went on before them
and would do something about it
whenever they saw it happen
in the time of pain the present
they would try to stop the bleeding
for example with their own hands

but it escapes their attention
or there may be reasons for it
the victims under the blankets
the meat counters the maimed children
the animals the animals
staring from the end of the world

*

The Genius Of The Crowd — by Charles Bukowski

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach love do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their concepts
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock

their finest art

From 70 Minutes In Hell, (video of Buk’s reading)

*

Hard Music – by Tom Chandler

The hammers of the builders
of the house across the street

sometimes fall by accident inside
the same beat, as if the rhythm

of our separate work can
melt without our knowing

into something far sleeker
than our laboring lives

and I wonder if the carpenters
are happy in themselves when

they realize how they improvise,
how the nails bite the wood

to such natural jazz, the house
rising tall in grace because of hard

music, lifting up its chimneyed head
and shoulders to the sky.

“Hard Music” by Tom Chandler, from Toy Firing Squad. © Wind Publications, 2008.

*

Clay: 37 — by Yannis Ritsos

Metal on metal
hammer on anvil
wheel on rail.
In between each clang
is a bird
not yet killed
coming from the other side.

~ Yiannis Ritsos — Poems

*

Bluebird — by Charles Bukowski

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see
you.
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he’s
in there.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he’s singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do
you?

~ Charles Buskowski, The Last Night of the Earth Poems

(Thanks to Lynne at FreePennyPress who recently reminded me of this beautiful piece HERE.)

From Brainpickings: “This mesmerizingly beautiful animated adaptation of the poem by Cambridge School of Art student Monika Umba is the perfect piece of visual whimsy to bring to life Bukowski’s magic.” (video)

~~~

Words For The Weekend (Rusty Cages, Changes and Kookaburras), Volume 24

This is the latest installment of quotes and words that move me for the weekend of 01/05/13 (Volume 24). I hope you enjoy them too.

~~~

“You wired me awake
And hit me with a hand of broken nails
You tied my lead and pulled my chain
To watch my blood begin to boil

But I’m gonna break
I’m gonna break my
I’m gonna break my rusty cage and run
Yeah I’m gonna break my
I’m gonna break my
I’m gonna break my rusty cage and run”

~ Johnny Cash (covering Soundgarden) on album “Unchained” (video)

*

Alternate song: Changes by David Bowie on album “Hunky Dory” (video)

“I still don’t know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I’d got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I’ve never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I’m much too fast to take that test…

Time may change me
But I can’t trace time”

*

“People always did like to talk, didn’t they? That’s why I call myself a witch now: the Wicked Witch of the West, if you want the full glory of it. As long as people are going to call you a lunatic anyway, why not get the benefit of it? It liberates you from convention.” ~ Gregory Maguire, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West

*

“The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.” ~ Gloria Steinem

*

“The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role. You trade in your sense for an act. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask. There can’t be any large-scale revolution until there’s a personal revolution, on an individual level. It’s got to happen inside first.” ~ Jim Morrison

*

“You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.” ~ Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon

*

“Lock up your libraries if you like, but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.” ~ Virginia Woolf, A Room Of One’s Own

*

“Liberation, I guess, is everybody getting what they think they want, without knowing the whole truth. Or in other words, liberation finally amounts to being free from things we don’t like in order to be enslaved by things we approve of. Here’s to the eternal tandem.” ~ Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

*

“Ohh just like all the seasons never stay the same
All around me I can feel a change (ohh)

I will break these chains that bind me, happiness will find me
Leave the past behind me, today my life begins
A whole new world is waiting it’s mine for the takin’
I know I can make it, today my life begins”
~ Bruno Mars “Today My Life Begins” (video)

*

“Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.” ~ Leo Tolstoy

*

“Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you.” ~ John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

*

“They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.” ~ Andy Warhol, The Philosophy of Andy Warhol

*

“Love can change a person the way a parent can change a baby- awkwardly, and often with a great deal of mess.” ~ Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can’t Avoid

*

“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.” ~ Eric Roth, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button screenplay

*

The Kookaburras by Mary Oliver

In every heart there is a coward and a procrastinator.
In every heart there is a god of flowers, just waiting
to stride out of a cloud and lift its wings.
The kookaburras, pressed against the edge of their cage,
asked me to open the door.
Years later I remember how I didn’t do it,
how instead I walked away.
They had the brown eyes of soft-hearted dogs.
They didn’t want to do anything so extraordinary, only to fly
home to their river.
By now I suppose the great darkness has covered them.
As for myself, I am not yet a god of even the palest flowers.
Nothing else has changed either.
Someone tosses their white bones to the dung-heap.
The sun shines on the latch of their cage.
I lie in the dark, my heart pounding.

Mary Oliver from House of Light

*

And to end on a funny note, I had to steal this from Guap’s blog, Guapola:

updated-new-years-resolutions

Happy 2013 everyone!

~~~