Les souvenirs de notre amour déjà si lointain réchaufferont doucement, à jamais, les sentiments ensevelis. Nous avons été emportés par un amour fou et passionné. Il ne faudrait surtout pas délaisser ces souvenirs …

Nous avons vécu notre amour en oubliant nos responsabilités. Nous avons vécu en amants arrogants. Dans mes jours j’écris. Cela m’occupe et lentement, je me perds dans le temps. Je peux enfin dire ce que je pense, ce que je ressens. Les heures passent ; la douceur de l’été indien m’envahit puis les soirées fraîches de l’automne approchent. Elles vont bientôt faire place aux courtes et froides journées de l’hiver. Dans mon cœur, je garde la chaleur de ton sourire tout comme le son de ton rire généreux et contagieux. Je conserve le souvenir de nos nuits, de nos tendres caresses, faites de chaleur et de douceur partagée. Cela me fait sourire de me remémorer les mots si tendrement murmurés …

Je continue ma vie sans toi, mais avec toutes les questions restées sans réponses. Avec les mots vides et vains, avec des incertitudes pitoyables. Avec ton silence. Avec les malentendus. Avec mon désespoir. Avec le respect que je t’ai toujours témoigné. Quand les questions sont sans réponses, la confusion règne. Et avec elles les blessures inutiles, les mots tranchants trop vite dits, les paroles que l’on essaye d’oublier à l’aide de pardon sincère.

Je garde sur mes lèvres le goût amer de notre dernier baiser. Une amertume profonde. Mais il ne faut rien regretter … Mais comment puis-je continuer sans ton amour alors que je t’aime depuis si longtemps ? Quand cela fait mal, je pense aux moments de bonheur partagés avec toi. Dans cette évasion furtive, j’ai connu,des années de bonheur, des instants magiques, des moments de liberté irréels.

Mon but est de comprendre ce qui s’est passé. Des raisons, il n’y en a peut-être pas … Vivre avec des "C’est mieux comme ça" me donne la force de poursuivre les désirs de mon cœur et de comprendre, car je ne serai jamais satisfaite. Pour moi, se sont des mots qui cachent une multitude de sentiments très difficiles à exprimer. C’est trop facile de les lancer puis de tourner la page !. J' aurais dû me battre, mais je t’aime trop pour le faire. De plus je n’ai plus d’arguments pour convaincre, plus rien à offrir. Mes larmes sont pauvres et asséchées. De toute façon, elles ne sont que des larmes futiles et impuissantes dans ce monde sans merci envers les amants prétentieux que nous étions.

Tu as donné raison aux autres, face à l’amour simple et sincère que je te portais.

Mon cœur saigne ; L’ombre du doute est tombée sur ce cœur blessé. De la haine, j’aurais pu en avoir, mais au plus profond de moi, il n’y a de place que pour l’image d’un amour perdu, enseveli dans le silence. Comme une injure lancée inconsciemment. Comme un mépris, comme une intimidation, comme une humiliation.

J’ai beau me dire que tout cela n’en valait pas la peine, mais quoi que je fasse, tu demeures obstinément mon point de repère. Mes douleurs intérieures s’apaiseront un jour, mais pour le moment, elles sont sources d’inspiration.

Dans cet exil sentimental, j’apprends la sagesse. De notre histoire, je me souviens de ton sourire, de ton rire si gai et des années de bonheur passées à tes côtés. Je conserve surtout l’image de ton regard rempli des mille sentiments que les mots ne peuvent plus exprimer.
Au fond de tes yeux, j’ai lu des messages secrets. Dans notre histoire d’amour, tu as touché mon cœur et mon âme. Avec des gestes et des mots simples tu m’as redonné goût à la vie. Tu m’as donné la force de me regarder dans le miroir. Un cœur meurtri est sorti de ces épreuves, un cœur cherchant en vain une solution pour fuir cette douleur lancinante. Je suis consciente, chaque jour, de cette mélancolie dans laquelle je baigne malgré moi. Avons-nous été les victimes d’un amour défendu ? Nous sommes-nous laissés guider par la curiosité d’un amour passé ? Avons-nous vécu au présent un amour d’antan ? Avons-nous versé des larmes pour cet amour perdu ? Cette séparation est-elle la rançon d’un amour naturel mais interdit ?

Nous avons outrepassé les limites de l’amitié. Tu m’as fait découvrir des sensations inédites et interdites. Peut-être devrais-je accepter les "C’est mieux comme ça" mais tu me connais : je ne cesse que lorsque je suis satisfaite de la réponse.

Dans mon exil et dans mon refuge, je recherche le goût de tes lèvres et la chaleur de ton corps. Un petit tison de ta chaleur pour réchauffer mes tristes nuits d’hiver.

Nous avons vécu notre histoire d’amour sous les yeux d’observateurs impuissants. Certains nous ont regardés avec un sourire inquiet et d’autres ont adressé des commentaires dérisoires. A ceux-là je dis zut ! D’autres ont protégé notre intimité à leurs dépends. Ceux-ci, je les remercie.

Nous sommes arrivés à la fin de notre histoire d’amour comme lorsqu’un voyage qui se termine. Alors je m’accroche.

J’ai très envie d’entendre ta voix. Mais cela ne m’est plus possible : je dois respecter la décision prise… Je te garde simplement dans ma mémoire …

Je te dis bonsoir et je te dis bonjour. Je te parle dans mes rêves .

Marcelle ROUJADE

If you are a thoughtless, careless man about your soul, you will take no interest in the subject of this tract. Faith and assurance are mere names and words to you: they are neither land, nor money, nor horses, nor dress, nor meat, nor drink: like Gallio, you care not for them. Alas, poor soul! I mourn over you. The day will come when you will think differently.

Reader, if you really desire to go to heaven, and to go there in the Bible way you will find the subject of this tract of the deepest importance. Believe me, your own comfort in religion, and your peace of conscience, depend exceedingly on understanding the matter about which I am going to speak. I say then, that faith in Christ, and a full assurance of being saved by Christ, are two distinct things.

A man may have saving faith in Christ, and yet never enjoy an assured hope, like the Apostle Paul. To believe, and have a glimmering hope of acceptance, is one thing; to have joy and peace in our believing, and abound in hope, is quite another. All God's children have faith: not all have assurance. I think this ought never to be forgotten.

I know some great and good men have held a different opinion: I believe that many excellent ministers do not allow the distinction I have stated; but I desire to call no man master. I dread as much as anyone the idea of healing the wounds of conscience slightly; but I should think any other view than that I have given a most uncomfortable gospel to preach, and one very likely to keep souls back a long time from the gate of life.

I would not desire to make one contrite heart sad that God has not made sad, or to discourage one fainting child of God, or to give a soul the impression that you have no part or lot in Christ, except you feel assurance. I do not shrink from saying, that by grace a man may have sufficient faith to flee to Christ, really to lay hold on Him, really to trust in Him, really to be a child of God, really to be saved; and yet to his last day be never free from much anxiety, doubt, and fear.

"A letter," says an old writer, "may be written which is not sealed; so grace may be written in the heart, yet the Spirit may not set the seal of assurance to it."

A child may be born heir to a great fortune, and yet never be aware of his riches, live childish, die childish, and never know the greatness of his possessions.

And so also a man may be a babe in Christ's family; think as a babe, speak as a babe, and, though saved, never enjoy a lively hope, or know the full privileges of his inheritance.

Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ a man must have, beyond all question, if he is to be saved. I know no other way of access to the Father: I see no intimation of mercy excepting through Christ. A man must feel his sins and lost estate, must come to Jesus for pardon and salvation, must rest his hope on Him and on Him alone. But if he only have faith to do this, however weak and feeble that faith may be, I will engage, from Scripture warrants, he shall not miss heaven. Never, never let us curtail the freeness of the glorious gospel, or clip its fair proportions. Never let us make the gate more strait, and the way more narrow, than pride or love of sin have made it already. The Lord Jesus is very pitiful and of tender mercy. He does not regard the quantity of faith, but the quality He does not measure its degree, but its truth. He will not break any bruised reed, nor quench any smoking flax. He will never let it be said that any perished at the foot of the cross. "Him that cometh unto Me," He says, "I will in no wise cast out" (John vi. 37). 1

Yes, reader! though a man's faith be no bigger than a grain of mustard seed, if it only brings him to Christ, and enables him to touch the hem of His garment, he shall be saved: saved as surely as the oldest saint in paradise; saved as completely and eternally as Peter, or John, or Paul. There are degrees in our sanctification: in our justification there are none. What is written is written, and shall never fail: "Whosoever believeth on Him," not whosoever has a strong and mighty faith, "Whosoever believeth on Him shall not be ashamed" (Rom. x. 11).

But all this time, I would have you take notice, the poor soul may have no full assurance of his pardon and acceptance with God. He may be troubled with fear upon fear, and doubt upon doubt. He may have many a question and many an anxiety, many a struggle, and many a misgiving, clouds and darkness, storm and tempest to the very end.

I will engage, I repeat, that bare simple faith in Christ shall save a man, though he may never attain to assurance; but I will not engage it shall bring him to heaven, with strong and abounding consolations. I will engage it shall land him safe in harbour, but I will not engage he shall enter that harbour under full sail, confident and rejoicing. I shall not be surprised if he reaches his desired haven weather-beaten and tempest-tossed, scarcely realising his own safety till he opens his eyes in glory.

Reader, I believe it is of great importance to keep in view this distinction between faith and assurance. It explains things which an inquirer in religion some times finds it hard to understand.

Faith, let us remember, is the root, and assurance is the flower. Doubtless you can never have the flower without the root; but it is no less certain you may have the root and not the flower.

Faith is that poor trembling woman who came behind Jesus in the press and touched the hem of His garment (Mark v. 25). Assurance is Stephen standing calmly in the midst of his murderers, and saying, "I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God" (Acts vii. 56). Faith is the penitent thief crying, "Lord, remember me" (Luke xxiii. 42). Assurance is Job sitting in the dust, covered with sores, and saying, "I know that my Redeemer liveth" (Job xix. 25). "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him" (Job xiii. 13).

Faith is Peter's drowning cry as he began to sink: "Lord, save me!" (Matt. xiv. 30). Assurance is the same Peter declaring before the Council, in after times, "This is the stone which was set at nought of you builders, which is become the head of the corner. Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved" (Acts iv. 11,12).

Faith is the anxious, trembling voice: "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief" (Mark ix. 24). Assurance is the confident challenge: "Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect? Who is he that condemneth?" (Rom. viii. 33, 34).

Faith is Saul praying in the house of Judas at Damascus, sorrowful, blind, and alone (Acts ix. 11). Assurance is Paul, the aged prisoner, looking calmly into the grave, and saying, "I know Whom I have believed," "There is laid up for me a crown" (2 Tim. i. 12; iv. 8).

Faith is life. How great the blessing! Who can tell the gulf between life and death? And yet life may be weak, sickly, unhealthy, painful, trying, anxious, worn, burdensome, joyless, and smileless to the very end.

Assurance is more than life. It is health, strength, power, vigour, activity, energy, manliness, and beauty.

Reader, it is not a question of saved or not saved that lies before us, but of privilege or no privilege, it is not a question of peace or no peace, but of great peace or little peace, it is not a question between the wanderers of this world and the school of Christ, it is one that belongs only to the school, it is between the first form and the last.

He that has faith does well. Happy should I be if I thought all readers of this tract had it. Blessed, thrice blessed are they that believe: they are safe; they are washed; they are justified. They are beyond the power of hell. Satan, with all his malice, shall never pluck them out of Christ's hands. But he that has assurance does far better, sees more, feels more, knows more, enjoys more, has more days like those spoken of in Deuteronomy, even "the days of heaven upon the earth" (Deut. xi. 21). 2

Reader, whoever you may be, I exhort you never to be satisfied with anything short of a full assurance of your own salvation. With faith, no doubt, you must begin, with simple, child-like faith: "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." But from faith go on to assurance. Rest not till you can say, "I know Whom I have believed."

Believe me, believe me, assurance is worth the seeking. You forsake your own mercies when you rest content without it. The things I speak are for your peace. It is good to be sure in earthly things; how much better is it to be sure in heavenly things!

Make it then your daily prayer that you may have an increase of faith. According to your faith will be your peace. Cultivate that blessed root more, and sooner or later, by God's blessing, you may hope to have the flower. You may not perhaps attain to full assurance at once: it is good sometimes to be kept waiting; we do not value things that we get without trouble. But though it tarry, wait for it. Seek on, and expect to find.

FOOTNOTES:

1 "He that believeth on Jesus shall never be confounded. Never was any; neither shall you, if you believe. It was a great word of faith spoken by a dying man, who had been converted in a singular way, betwixt his condemnation and execution: his last words were these, spoken with a mighty shout 'Never man perished with his face towards Jesus Christ.'"  Traill.

2 "The greatest thing that we can desire, next to the glory of God, is our own salvation; and the sweetest thing we can desire is the assurance of our salvation. In this life we cannot get higher than to be assured of that which in the next life is to be enjoyed. All saints shall enjoy a heaven when they leave this earth: some saints enjoy a heaven while they are here on earth." Joseph Carlyle. 1658.

]]> http://vincentlyonsden.wordpress.com/?p=80 Fri, 03 Oct 2008 02:46:42 +0000 vincentlyonsden http://vincentlyonsden.de.wordpress.com/2008/10/03/gone-fishing/ How high's your view of Jesus Christ?
What do you think of Him?
Do you believe His sacrifice
Won pardon for your sin?
Or do you stand with scoffers proud
Who mock His precious name?
Do you support the sceptic crowd?
"There is no God" they claim.
Or maybe you are one of those
Who simply doesn't care?
The windows of your mind are closed---
"Gone Fishing"----unaware.
I urge you Man!! While you have life,
Consider what I say!!
Inquire concerning Jesus Christ:
Don't wait!! Begin today!!

The first black heavyweight champion should be granted a presidential pardon for a racially motivated conviction 75 years ago that blemished his reputation and hurt his boxing career, the House recommended Friday.

Jack Johnson became world heavyweight champion in 1908.

Read the full story here:
http://www.cnn.com/2008/CRIME/09/26/pardon.request.ap/index.html?eref=rss_latest

Pardon

Rapizm Çağla - Belkide
Rapizm Çağla - Ben Söylemeden
Rapizm Çağla - Bencil Yazar
Rapizm Çağla - Bu Ritim
Rapizm Çağla - Dengesiz Besteler
Rapizm Çağla - Gülümse
Rapizm Çağla - Ha Gayret
Rapizm Çağla - Hadi Kaçalım mı
Rapizm Çağla - Hadi Rape Anlatın
Rapizm Çağla - Pardon
Rapizm Çağla - Pembe Tonları
Rapizm Çağla - Susma
Rapizm Çağla [ Feat. Yener ] - Uzak Sandığım
Rapizm Çağla [ Feat.Enemy ] - Beni Bulabilirmisin
Rapizm Çağla [ Feat.Frekans, Yunus Emre, Yener ] - Haddini Bil
Rapizm Çağla [ Feat.Local ] - Rap ve Türkçe
Rapizm Çağla [ Feat.Taşkın, Curl ] - Sesini Duy
Rapizm Çağla [ Feat.Toprak ] - Hani Unutamazdım
Rapizm Çağla [ Feat.Yener, Yunus Emre, Emre, Oğuzhan ] - Hatır Yok Artık

TIKLA İNDİR

Every priest stands daily at his service, offering repeatedly the same sacrifices which can never take away sins but when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifce for sins He sat down at the right hand of God to wait until His enemies should be made a stool for His feet. For by a single offering He has made perfect for all time those who are sanctified. And the Holy Spirit also bears witness to us for after saying "this is the covenant I will make with them, after those days, says the Lord, I will put My laws upon their hearts and write them on their minds" then He adds, "I will remember their sins and misdeeds no more." Where there is forgiveness of these, there is no longer any offering for sin.

What this passage of scripture plainly teaches is that all human priesthood is at an end, whether Jewish or christian. We no longer approach God through any human mediator [a priest is a mediator] excepting that of Jesus Christ. I do not know the exact point in church history that the priesthood was re-introduced into the church, there is no record, but we first find it being spoken about by Ignatious at the turn of the first century A.D. There was no priesthood in the church of the apostles, the primitive church, what need would there be of one? if as the gospel tells us that Jesus died once for all time on behalf of everyone who would come to Him in faith, the gospel is "come directly to Jesus" for the forgiveness of sins and for the new life He offers. This is not religion, ceremonies and rituals and sacraments and the like, this is a new and living way [since Jesus is raised from the dead and is alive] You who are reading this message can come to God right this moment, where you are and as you are, through Jesus Christ. You can recieve pardon and a new life in your soul right this moment. 

From the Guardian UK:

Amnesty International today urged the US state of Georgia to stop the execution of Troy Davis, who faces death by lethal injection tonight despite doubts over his conviction.

Las July, the state's board of pardons and paroles stopped the execution less than 24 hours before it was to be carried out.

However, it yesterday rejected pleas to reconsider its recent decision to deny clemency on the grounds that so much uncertainly exists over whether Davis shot and killed a Savannah police officer.

Georgia's supreme court also denied Davis's request for a stay of execution, and his last hope of avoiding execution at 7pm local time (midnight BST) now appears to rest with the US supreme court, where his lawyers have asked for a stay of execution.

You can read more about the entire situation here:

http://mindfullymusing.wordpress.com/

Op een doodnormale vrijdag kwam ik met de bus in Hasselt. Aangekomen bij de halte waar ik altijd mijn fiets heb staan, begreep ik iets niet. Ik had mijn fiets daar toch wel echt staan!? Verbluft keek ik om mij heen. Mijn fiets met lelijke paarse fiets tassen kon ik zo snel niet zien.

Mijn ogen gleden van voor naar achteren, van links naar rechts. Maar nee, geen fiets. Fietsen genoeg, maar niet die van mij. Waar was mijn fiets!? Ik liep naar de plek waarvan ik eigenlijk wel voor 100% zeker van was dat hij daar zou moeten staan.

Daar stond ik dan. En wat zag ik? Mijn fiets! Ja! Daar in die hoek waar ik hem altijd heb staan, stond hij! Maar... waarom zag ik hem niet direct? Omdat hij kaal geworden is! Iemand heeft namelijk mijn fiets tassen gejat! En... het stomme is, die knalgele plastic tas lag vlakbij mijn fiets en tot mijn grote verbazing zag ik mijn pen én zelfs mijn gevulde flesje water er ook nog bij in de buurt liggen.

Begrepen deed ik het niet. Was er nou echt iemand zo hopeloos op zoek naar een cadeau? Of misschien iets om zich warm te houden? Of was het gewoon iemand die moeite had met alle boodschappen en die ze nodig in een tas wou gooien? Welke mafketel jat er nou fiets tassen?! Welke flapdrol neemt nou de moeite om die lelijke dingen van mijn fiets te halen!? Kijk, als het nou mooie knal roze fiets tassen waren met stippen of bloemetjes, a la...

Forty-seven percent of Russians asked by the influential state-run polling agency VTsIOM in the first week of September said they would under no circumstances agree to Mikhail Khodorkovsky’s plea for parole.

Former oil magnate Khodorkovsky was sentenced in 2005 to eight years in prison for fraud and tax evasion. His former company, Yukos, was declared bankrupt in July 2006 after being hit by a huge claim from the tax authorities for 734 billion roubles (US$27.5 billion).

The ill-fated oligarch, who had funded opposition politicians, may be regarded as a personal enemy of Prime Minister Vladimir Putin, and most experts give Khodorkovsky few chances for parole.

But a closer look at Russia’s system of showing mercy to prisoners reveals a shifting understanding of the purpose of judicial punishment.

In the U.S.S.R., the pardon commission was a nominal body, but things changed under former President Boris Yeltsin. The National Pardons Commission, created in April 1992, was previously the only channel through which prisoners could appeal their sentences — a situation that created enormous backlogs of unconsidered cases.

Applications for pardons in Russia receive backing from a wide range of bodies as diverse as prison administrations and the Russian Orthodox Church.

Under Yeltsin between 700 and 800 prisoners were granted pardons each year, but in the Putin-Medvedev era the process has come to a standstill.

The regional commissions produce decisions but then the cases have to receive the blessing of a regional governor and then move on to — and get stuck in — Moscow. Results have been discouraging. Forty-two people were pardoned in 2005, and only 9 in 2006.

Granting pardons is a constitutional duty that exerts a form of control over the country’s judicial system. The human aspect of each case considered for a pardon plays an important role. The authorities — and increasingly the public — appear to be in a state of denial of the significance of this role.

A pardon commission does not aim to review verdicts handed down by the courts but, rather, estimates the danger that a prisoner represents to society if he or she is released.

However, Russia’s jails remain overloaded and some experts say that a year in a Russian jail is the equivalent of two or three years in jail abroad.

“Nearly 90 percent of people released from jail come out with tuberculosis, which they caught in prison,” said Tatyana Linyova, a doctor with the Red Cross in Russia.

“One person whose appeal we supported had already served nine years of a 14-year term,” said St. Petersburg writer Mikhail Kurayev, a member of the local pardon commission.

“When I met him, I saw someone in a condition I would call ‘social and spiritual anabiosis;’ someone living an artificial life. Punishment is about correcting a personality. It is not about revenge,” Kurayev said.

Author: Galina Stolyarova
Date: September 16, 2008.
Published: Yom Bet, 15th Elul, 5768

Source: http://www.times.spb.ru/index.php?action_id=2&story_id=27134

Elimize geçen bir SON dakika haberini sizlerle paylaşıyoruz.

FLAŞ FLAŞ FLAŞ

BAZI ÖRGÜT MENSUPLARININ AKRABA OLDUKLARI ANLAŞILDI!!!

Savcının mahkeme kararıyla dinlettirdiği “ÖRGÜT” sanıklarının aralarında geçen “gizli” konuşmayı ele geçirdik!!!

Söz konusu konuşmanın yaklaşık 3 yıl önce “eski tüfek” tabir edilen, cumhuriyetin ilk tohumlarından KURT bir gazeteci olduğu SANILAN biri ile yine KİM olduğu belirlenemeyen örgüt mensuplarından biri arasında geçiyorMUŞ!

KURT

Emniyet kaynakları KURT gazeteci ve diğer örgüt mensubunun kimliklerini saptamak için yoğun çalışmalar başlatmış bulunuyorlar.. (Gizeme bakın!)

( Bu arada emniyetten yapılan bir açıklama: “Ulan her şeye ‘geçirdik’ diyosunuz ya! İşte ona gıcığım! Konuşma metnini bütün basına dağıtan biz değil miyiz? Hıyar!!!)

Hieeeyyyyt! Hıyaar!!

Neyse efendim. Biz konuşma metnine geçelim:

—Mitingler ile ilgili çalışma nasıl gidiyor?

—Şey abi! Allah’a şükür iyi gidiyor! ııı…!

—Ne şükürü ahmak! Senden şükür soran mı var? Bana çalışmaları anlat.

—Tabi, hemen! HDD ile yakın temas içindeyiz. Ülkenin büyük bir komplo ile karşı karşıya olduğu görüşünde hem fikiriz. Komplike tasarımlar ve komplomantasyon konusu çok karma…

—Ne saçmalıyorsun yavrum!

—Efendim fikir birliğinden bahsediyorum.

—-Geri zekalı!

— Teveccühünüz efendim!

—!!! Bırak fikrini zikrini. HDD kim, onu anlamadım?

—Efendim dinlemelere karşı yeni terimler “keşfettim!”. Hani ne olur ne olmaz.

Kimse anlamasın diye bazı özel kelimelere ŞİFRE (!) verdim.

—Evladım! Tel faturamın ağzına sıçtın!

—Estağfurullah. Efendim. Ne haddime..

—Allah belanı versin lan! Sus artık, gerzek herif!

—Abi lütfen Allah’ı karıştırmayalım bu bela işine! Allah’ı bela işine karıştırdığımız en son konuşmada “sauna”da hamam keyfimiz bozulmuştu.

—Sauna operasyonu mu?

—Hayır efendim! Kesecinin!

Keseci arkadaş

—Evladım sen uzaydan mı geldin? Ulan senin gibi hıyarla devrim mi yapacağız?

—Aaa! (heyecanlı!)Teessüf ederim abi! Bi kere benim özel bir “kişiliğim ve geçmişim” var.

—(Hay senin geçmişini!) Neymiş lan özelin?

—(Kuşkulu ve heyecanlı!)Bir aile sırrı!

—Lan oğlum! Biz senin en yakın ailen değil miyiz (Allah korusun!)? Baksana beraber vatan aşkını ifa ediyoruz.

—Evet, haklısın abi. Zaten bu devrimcilik işine girdim gireli bir hayli heyecanlandım. içimde de kalmasın! Zira siz yabancımız da değilsiniz.

—Uzatma evladım..

—Annem diyodu zaten. Sen büyük bir adam olacaksın diye. Herkesten farklı olduğum için hani!

—Neymiş farkın?

—Bu devrim işine girdiğimizden beri, (sesi gür!)devrimin ÖNDERİ olacağıma kanaat ettim!

—Nerden kanaat getirdin yavrum? (bu hayvan oğlu hayvan ne saçmalıyor?)

—(Bilmiş bir eda ile!) Efendim, hani eski bir destanda “Asena” var ya!

—EEE..!

—Hani Asena dişi ya, (hava atarcasına!) belki bilirsiniz?

—Bilmeyen mi var eşşoğ..!

—Bundan bir de erkek varMIŞ! Erkek KURT! Büyüklerimiz, onların büyükleri onlarında büyükleri anlatırlar..

—Yavrum, senin “o” büyüklerinin büyüklerini de bilirim. O devirleri de gördüm!

—Eski bir efsaneye göre, erkek kurt’un yılda bir defa gittiği (takıldığı!) bir mağara varmış. Senede sadece BİR defa ortaya çıkıyor-MUŞ. Eski gelenektir, eşler çocukları olmazdan önce senenin bu belirli gününde mağarayı ziyaret edermiş. Babam ve annem de ben doğmazdan önce bu mağaraya gitmişler.

—!!!

—O gün diğer günlerden çok farklıymış! Gök gürlüyor, Yaşlı KURT şimşekler çakıyor falan..

—Bırak şimşeği yağmuru..

—Neyse efendim. Bizimkiler mağaranın kapısına gelmişler. Annem o zaman hamile değil mis. O sırada mağaradan ULVİ bir ses yükselmiş! (Esrarlı ton!) “Neden geldiiniiiizzz?!” Annem ve babam ürpermiş tabi! Babam zar zor “kem-küm” diyebilmiş!

—(Sesi titreyerek!)Kem küm’ü bırak yavrum! Ne olMUŞ sonra?

—Hah! İçerde ki ULVİ ses de aynen öyle demiş; “kem-küm’ü bırak yavrum! Ne istiyorsun?” diye. Sonunda babam toparlanmış ve kendini bu sese teslim etmeye karar vermiş. Demiş; “efendim, bizden önce büyüklerimiz gelirdi buraya. Onlardan önce de onların büyükleri. Daha önce de…”

—Ulan hayvan oğlusu! (heyecan!)Bırak geleni gideni. Annene (!) pardon , babana geç..

—Hah! İçerden de aynen öyle bir ses yükselmiş; “ Ulan hayvan oğlusu! Bırak öncekileri, sadede gel daha çok İŞİM var!” demiş.

—!!!

—Babam meramını anlatmış. “Bir oğlum olsaydı da, senin gibi (KURT gibi!)

atılgan, cesur, gözü pek olsun” demiş. Tabi içerde ki ses hemen cevap vermiş; “bırak hatunu yarın gel al!” Babam şaşırmış tabi.

—Ulan bunca yıl sonra ben şaşırmışım, baban nasıl şaşırmasın!!!

—Anlamadım abi?

—Sonra anlatırım. Üstelik artık bana “ABİ” deme!!! Devam et koçum.

—Babam çaresiz. Gözü yaşlı bir şekilde annemi bırakmış. Ne de olsa “emir büyük yerden”. Tabi ondan sonrasını annemden dinledim!

—Hay ananın! Ne anlatmış hele?

—“Ben daha öncesinde bir kurt görmüştüm yavrum; dört ayaklı! Nerden bileyim iki ayaklı kurt’ta varmış!!! Neyse o geceyi mağarada geçirdik…Leş gibi kokuyordu ŞU HAYVAN! Ha! Evladım! Şu KURT (asıl baban!) bizim karşı köyde ki ? amcanın oğlunu ne de benziyordu! İşte evladım, o olaydan sonra sana hamile kaldım!” diye anlatır… Çok şey anlattı bana gerçek babam hakkında. “Pek bişeye benzemese de, nihayetinde İNSAN değil bir ‘KURT’TU’” derdi. Tabi, annem her anlattığında babam (evde ki!) içerlemiyor değildi yani! “Nasıl olurda bir hayvanı bana tercih ettin!” diye diye gözlerini yumdu..

Nihayet açıklıyoruz : İşte O HAYVAN!!!

—Vay eşşekoğlusu!!!

—Ne oldu abi?

—Babana dedim yavrum! Yani evdekine!! Üstelik bana “ABİ deme” demiştim koçum. Aaa! Bak darılırım sonra!

—İşte öyle efendim. (Gizemi sönmüş bir ton ile!) Yani anlayacağınız benim babam bir KURT! (Kendisi de inanmayarak!) Acaba ÖNDER olabilir miyim?

—Sen kaç yaşındasın BAKİİM?

—50!!

—(Şüpheli ve kısık ses tonu!) Olabilir mi acaba?

—Anlamadım efendim..

—Evladım! Hangi köydendin?

… dan efendim.

—Ha s..tir!!!

—Pardon!

—Dedim ki, (HİNCE!)komşuymuşuz laaann!!

—Anlamadım?

—Annenin bilmediklerini de ben sana anlatayım yavrum.

—Hadiii!

—Bak dinle..

—(vıdıvıdı vıdıvıdı vıdıvıdı…)

—İşte asıl şimdi “HA S..TİİİİİRRR!”

—Ya evladım. O yıllarda hayta hayta, BOŞ BELEŞ dolaşıyorduk! Arkadaşlarla macera arıyorduk. Bir arkadaşımız, (evdeki!) baban ile annenin oraya gideceğini öğrenmiş. Ben de ZUL kafa ile onlardan önce gittim…

—Eee.! Köyde dolaşan onca kişi “KURT soyundan geldim” diyo-DU! ( Gerçi çocukken hava atıyorlardı da! Büyüdükten sonra birbirimize bakarken başımızı önümüze eğiyorduk!)

—(Kıs kıs gülerek!)Evladım onların da annelerini tanırım! Hey gidi günleeerrrr..

—(Yıkılmış bir ses tonuyla) Size baba diyebilir miyim?

—Tabi evladım. (Kurtluğunu hatırlamış olmanın verdiği HAZ ile) Her zaman!!!

—Allah belanı versin yine de, hayvan oğlusu..!!!

—(Gururla) Babana çekmişsin! Senin de yavrum, seninde…

]]> http://eveil777.wordpress.com/?p=12 Sat, 13 Sep 2008 16:46:04 +0000 eveil777 http://eveil777.de.wordpress.com/2008/09/13/imparfaits/

How dull the wit of our gangsters when measured against our politicians’.   Half a century from that night another heist occurred that dwarfed it.  No guns, no getaways, no cordite to speak of, just a politician, a pliable justice department lawyer, and…that’s about it.  A knowing guess as to the haul in this heist is in the hundred million dollar range.

Altho it could be much, much higher.

Rudy Guliani convicted mssrs Rich and Green when he was the US prosecutor for Wall Street.  They fled to Switzerland.  A few years pass on the FBI’s international most wanted list.  They don’t like that much.  So they got a pardon from Clinton.

Thirty Brinks robberies, pulled with a pen.
It wasn’t even a crime.

***

Government is corruption.  It’s not a question of …is it there?  It’s…how much is there?  Sometimes it feels like amount we can live with.  To look at the rest of the world is to look at our luck.  But some other times, it seems too much.  And the nation gets up from its chair.

That’s how the republicans regained congress.  That how we found one party is as felonious as the other.  That removed a huge advantage from the republicans.

McCain wants it back.

Then again, there are a few good men in that Country who work hard for justice in America and the world, and some have come up with what I think is bigger than Watergate.

In an incredibly sly and sneaky move, good old George Bush has put a sub-clause into a legislative document which if passed (the House has passed it already, Senate expected to do so shortly), with indemnify himself in the future against any war crimes prosecution.

Watch this CNN video to find out more.

Let's hope the power of the internet and social media generates sufficent ground swell protest to insight a review of this legislation.

September 1 is . . . . . Emma M. Nutt Day

September 2 is . . . . . National Beheading Day

September 3 is . . . . . Skyscraper Day

September 4 is . . . . . Newspaper Carrier Day

September 5 is . . . . . Be Late For Something Day (That's everyday for me)

September 6 is . . . . . Fight Procrastination Day

September 7 is . . . . . Neither Rain Nor Snow Day (you know it'll rain anyhow LOL)

September 8 is . . . . . National Date Nut Bread Day and Pardon Day

September 9 is . . . . . Teddy Bear Day

September 10 is . . . . Swap Ideas Day

September 11 is . . . . No News Is Good News Day

September 12 is . . . . National Pet Memorial Day and National Chocolate Milkshake Day

September 13 is . . . . Defy Superstition Day

September 14 is . . . . National Cream-filled Donut Day

September 15 is . . . . Felt Hat Day

September 16 is . . . . Stay Away From Seattle Day and Collect Rocks Day

September 17 is . . . . National Apple Dumpling Day

September 18 is . . . . National Play-doh Day

September 19 is . . . . National Butterscotch Pudding Day

September 20 is . . . . National Punch Day

September 21 is . . . . World Gratitude Day and International Banana Festival

September 22 is . . . . Hobbit Day and Dear Diary Day

September 23 is . . . . Checkers Day and Dogs In Politics Day

September 24 is . . . . Festival Of Latest Novelties

September 25 is . . . . National Comic Book Day

September 26 is . . . . National Good Neighbor Day and National Pancake Day

September 27 is . . . . Crush A Can Day

September 28 is . . . . Ask A Stupid Question Day

September 29 is . . . . Poisoned Blackberries Day

September 30 is . . . . National Mud Pack Day

 

Un album sur la force de l’amour, sur les liens qu’il crée, sur les limites qu’il repousse. Un album touchant, émouvant, poignant, troublant, « édifiant »…

Vitor, le mari de Kalia a été arrêté pour « admiration de la technologie étrangère ». En 1953, en URSS, cela permet d’envoyer pour 10 ans en camp, quelqu’un qui ne rentre pas dans le rang… Kalia décide un jour de partir à sa recherche . Pour ses deux enfants qui sont restés, pour elle-même, Kalia tient un journal de bord qu’elle rédige tout au long de son périple en Sibérie. Un « Zek » un ancien prisonnier politique va l’initier à la vie dans le goulag, au fameux « tour de valse » qui récompense les plus méritants…

Ce récit est tout en sentiment, en intériorité. L’attente, le pardon y sont palpables avec des planches qui rendent tangibles les silences et les regards. Quelle belle leçon d’humanité !

Le Tour de Valse, (S : Denis Lapière, D : Ruben Pellejero), Dupuis, Collection « Aire Libre » octobre 2004, 56 pages

D'hervè Vilard

La vie m'a donner la chance de pouvoir connaître et faire beaucoup d'expérience qui m'ont donner des déceptions. Avec cette chanson que je connais depuis trés longtemps, je ne regréte pas d'avoir fait certaine de ces expériences....... Je sais que dans la vie nous avons l'ocassion de trouver le grand amour avec le grand A une seul fois, oui nous pouvons aimer d'autres personnes, mais jamais avec un telle intensité.

Cette amour... je le vis avec toi, donc je ne te demande pas pardon cette fois mais seulement merci de pouvoir me faire vivre ce que je vis dans ce beau présent.....

Je t'aime

david

"I Lived a Normal Life"

I lived a normal life
I lived an average life
that was before --
before I met HIM...

I met him on a cold shaggy decrepit night
cowering beneath the overpass shivering from cold
hungry within and within again
his eyes were wont with desires and wants
that extended into the eternal.

I lived a normal life
I lived an average life
that was before --
before I met HIM...

I met him on a hot humidly sticky day
standing guard in desert heat, stinky with sweat
thirsty for water, thirsty for blood
his eyes were cold hard steely desires and wants
that extended into the eternal

I lived a normal life
I lived an average life
that was before --
before I met HIM...

I met him on a wet dreary smelly dog day
standing oblivious in torrential rains
his clothes drenched clinging hurting within without
his eyes filled to brimming with desires and wants
that extended into the eternal

I lived a normal life
I lived an average life
that was before --
before I met HIM...

Now, I walk with HIM on nights of frigid cold
Now I walk with HIM on days the temperature soars
Now, I walk with HIM in rain and storm
Together, we touch the souls along the way
lost people cowering in corners, scared lonely afraid
Guards out on patrol praying for cease fire peace
Souls crying out with excrutiating pain
their eyes filled with desires and wants
that extend into the eternal

I lived a normal life
I lived an average life
that was before --
before I met HIM...

Penelope Shedrech
c. 2008