Only Lyrically

Month: December, 2011

“all your graces someday will flower”

First heard the song in Cuaron’s adaptation of Great Expectations…

… and to my very last breath I know I’ll have no less than great expectations.

 

Happy New Year, girls and boys!

All together now!

“It’s time, time, time that you love!”

“Immerse your soul in love!”

“All is full of love!”

… and so shall it be ’til our days are done.

 

Gotta keep the faith, all ye lonesome girls and boys.

Stand your ground in the heart of the song.

There’s no other way to go.

caroling

Thank You for the bread and soup and milk. And for the roof over my head.

Thank You for all the work You’ve allowed me to do to earn these good little things.

Work that has kept me going.

Thank You for the bed, and for this time to rest, and surrender.

And dream. Please grant it, my Lord. Please.

I believe You are listening.

“a hook-laden melody is a movable feast”

… writes The Guardian critic Alexis Petridis about Coldplay’s latest offering, Mylo Xyloto, despite a few reservations.

Actually, that’s what I admire about Chris Martin and company – their seemingly reliable ability to come up with gently infectious melodies…

… and lines like, “In your tears, and in your blood/ In your fire, and in your flood/ I heard you laugh, I heard you sing/ I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

I hope the new one is good. And they even have a Charlie Brown song in it, or so it’s been reported. Have to march off to the Fully Booked Taguig palace real soon to check it out from the listening racks.

In the meantime, it’s 1:11 a.m. Time for breakfast. I want warm rice, two sunny side up eggs, and hot coffee, please. Grazie!

Good. Will. Hunting.

After Finding Forrester, I put Good Will Hunting on, to keep me company while doing some of these edits.

I miss my poetry teachers. Terribly. I miss the classroom, and hearing life spun in verses, aiming for the heart, and getting right in, and changing lives.

I miss my good teacher, him who gave to me and showed me nothing but kindness, and who told me to work and work hard and work always — The Baptist.

This is for him and his fellow givers. Keepers of the fire.

Merry merry!

Dear Santa,

I want a guitar that looks like and sounds like the one Mrs. Michael Penn is playing here.

And all the graces that my little yearning heart can hold.

Thank you.

Love,

Jennifer