Tuesday, June 23, 2009

~ Fortune Cookies ~

The following are fortune's found, and kept in my wallet.

Now, they were posted in one of my journals.

Taped, on a page.

Focus on your long-term goal.
Good things will happen soon.

Modify your thinking to handle
new situations.

You will make many changes
before settling satisfactorily.

Keep your plans secret for now.

The time is right to make new friends.

Be alert for new opportunities -
pleasure or business.

I love fortune cookies. It's one of my "things". Not that there is anything wrong with having one of those tiny things that just make you super-excited-happy. That "stupid" thing, you call stupid, but your friends and family think it's one of the adorable traits you possess.

A great poem, I want to share with you, I had forgotten about.
Which, was found, in the book, Sue has let me read.

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

Wallace Stevens

Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing,
Was the eye of the blackbird.

I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.

The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small pantomime.

A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.

I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendos,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.

Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.

O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?

I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.

When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.

He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.

The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.

It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.

I'm still "just right".
Like the porridge in Goldilocks and the 3 bears.

I love ya, with no "but" attached.

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