World Writers Day

 

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Source photo: Google Images

The World Writers Day is celebrated each year  on March 3 since 1986. This day has been  established by the International Congress of PEN Club.

The International PEN Club is a worldwide association of writers which has been founded  in London in 1921, in order to promote  intellectual support  and friendship between  writers from all around  the world.

The name for the organization has been  made up from the first letters of the words “Poets, Essayists and Novelists”.

The idea to create this great  organization belongs to the English writer Mrs. C.A. Dawson Scott and had as a first  president  John Galsworthy. Today the International PEN Club has its centers in more than  130 countries. The International PEN Club is the oldest global literary organization that emphasizes the role of literature in the development of the world culture, fighting for the liberty of expression.

Writers Day is a great occasion to congratulate the work of each of the writers and encourage writing lovers to express their feelings and paint a better world by words.

 

 

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Source photo: Google Images

Still I rise – Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

 

Maya Angelou, born April 4, 1928 as Marguerite Johnson in St. Louis, was raised in segregated rural Arkansas. She was a poet, historian, author,actress, playwright, civil-rights activist, producer and director. Maya lectured throughout the US and abroad and was Reynolds professor of American Studies at Wake Forest University in North Carolina since 1981.  She published ten best selling books and  wrote numerous magazine articles earning her Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award nominations.  At the request of President Clinton, she wrote and delivered a poem at his 1993 presidential inauguration.

Dr. Angelou, who spoke French, Spanish, Italian and West African Fanti, began her career in drama and dance. She married a South African freedom fighter and lived in Cairo where she was editor of The Arab Observer, the only English-language news weekly in the Middle East. In Ghana, she was feature editor of The African Review and taught at the University of Ghana. In the 1960’s, at the request of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Ms. Angelou became the northern coordinator for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. She was appointed by President Gerald Ford to the Bicentennial Commission and by President Jimmy Carter to the National Commission on the Observance of International Women’s Year.

Maya Angelou, poet, was among the first African-American women to hit the bestsellers lists with her “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,” held the Great Hall audience spellbound with stories of her own childhood. She ranged from story to poem to song and back again, and her theme was love and the universality of all lives. “The honorary duty of a human being is to love,” Angelou said. She spoke of her early love for William Shakespeare’s works, and offered her audience excerpts from the poems of several African-Americans, including James Weldon Johnson and Paul Lawrence Dunbar. But always, she came back to love – and humanity. “I am human,” Angelou said, quoting from her own work, “and nothing human can be alien to me.”

In the sixties, at the request of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., she became the northern coordinator for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference and in 1975 she received the Ladies Home Journal Woman of the Year Award in communications. She received numerous honorary degrees and was appointed by President Jimmy Carter to the National Commission on the Observance of International Woman’s Year and by President Ford to the American Revolutionary Bicentennial Advisory Council. She is on the board of the American Film Institute and is one of the few female members of the Director’s Guild.

In the film industry, through her work in script writing and directing, Maya Angelou has been a groundbreaker for black women. In television, she has made hundreds of appearances. Her best-selling autobiographical account of her youth, “I Know Why the Cage Bird Sings,” won critical acclaim in 1970 and was a two hour TV special on CBS. She has written and produced several prize winning documentaries, including “Afro-Americans in the Arts,” a PBS special for which she received the Golden Eagle Award. She was also nominated for an Emmy Award for her acting in Roots, and her screenplay Georgia, Georgia was the first by a black woman to be filmed. In theatre, she produced, directed and starred in “Cabaret for Freedom” in collaboration with Godfrey Cambridge at New York’s Village Gate; starred in Genet’s “The Blacks” at St Mark’s Playhouse; and adapted Sophocles “Ajax” which premiered in Los Angeles in 1974. She wrote the original screenplay for “Georgia, Georgia” and wrote and produced a ten-part TV series on African traditions in American life. Maya Angelou was Reynolds Professor at Wake Forest University, Winston-Salem, North Carolina.  She died at her home in Winston-Salem on May 28, 2014.

( Source: All Poetry – Maya Angelou)

I’m stepping

 

 

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London, UK

 

I’m stepping to play on my game,

While world from outside answers mind,

Through evenings I’m grabbing the frame

Of questions which hard tie me blind. 

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Hunza Valley , Pakistan 

 

I’m stepping to act on my dreams,

According to plan, worth desired.

The lights from inside caught my fears,

The shadows are playing so wired. 

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Nottingham, UK 

I’m stepping  to sit on my table, 

While questions are  digging   my  space

Nor nothing, or all these, together, 

Embrace  me  on peace and relax. 

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London, UK 

  Relax 

Ridge (Transmogrify)

Night falls on my angles of miss,

Days  burning just trying escape, 

While asking the spring for the bliss, 

While drawing the hope into shape.

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The flowers turn round to the life 

The Stars are  dancing with Moon.

Whilst time through squares just flies

Still nothing to bring to the tune.

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I am seeking my own on the bridge 

Which drives  to the Sun, far away.

While running to catch  on the ridge

All  senses that kneel me on pray.

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(https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/transmogrify/)

 

 

 

 

“It Can’t Happen Here?”

We need 4 hugs a day for survival. We need 8 hugs a day for 
maintenance. We need 12 hugs a day for growth. 
Virginia Satir 

We always teach people to hug each other in our workshops and 
seminars. Most people respond by saying, "You could never hug people 
where I work." Are you sure? 
Here is a letter from a graduate of one of our seminars. 


Dear Jack, 

I started out this day in rather a bleak mood. My friend Rosalind 

stopped over and asked me if I was giving hugs today. I just grumbled 

something but then I began to think about hugs and everything during 

the week. I would look at the sheet you gave us on How to Keep the 

Seminar Alive and I would cringe when I got to the part about giving 

and getting hugs because I couldn't imagine giving hugs to the people at 

work. 

Well I decided to make it "hugs day" and I started giving hugs to the 

customers who came to my counter. It was great to see how people just 

brightened up. An MBA student jumped up on top of the counter and 

did a dance. Some people actually came back and asked for more. These 

two Xerox repair guys, who were kind of just walking along not really 

talking to each other, were so surprised, they just woke up and suddenly 

were talking and laughing down the hall.
It feels like I hugged everybody in the Wharton Business School, plus 

whatever was wrong with me this morning, which included some 

physical pain, is all gone. I'm sorry that this letter is so long but I'm just 

really excited. The neatest thing was, at one point there were about 10 

people all hugging each other out in front of my counter. I couldn't 

believe this was happening. 

Love, Pamela Rogers 

P.S.: On the way home I hugged a policeman on 37th Street. He said, 

"Wow! Policemen never get hugs. Are you sure you don't want to throw 

something at me?" 

Another seminar graduate sent us the following piece on hugging: 

Hugging Is 

Hugging is healthy. It helps the immune system, cures depression, 

reduces stress and induces sleep. It's invigorating, rejuvenating and has 

no unpleasant side effects. Hugging is nothing less than a miracle drug. 

Hugging is all natural. It is organic, naturally sweet, no artificial 

ingredients, nonpolluting, environmentally friendly and 100 percent 

wholesome. 

Hugging is the ideal gift. Great for any occasion, fun to give and 

receive, shows you care, comes with its awn wrapping and, of course, 

fully returnable.
Hugging is practically perfect. No batteries to wear out, inflation-proof, 

nonfattening, no monthly payments, theft-proof and nontaxable. 

Hugging is an underutilized resource with magical powers. When we 

open our hearts and arms, we encourage others to do the same. 

Think of the people in your life. Are there any words you'd like to say? 

Are there any hugs you want to share? Are you waiting and hoping 

someone else will ask first? Please don't wait! Initiate! "

Charles Faraone 

Jack Canfield  ("Chicken Soup for the Soul")


    Live your beautiful life! While there is life, there is hope!




		
	

True Love

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"Moses Mendelssohn, the grandfather of the well-known German 

composer, was far from being handsome. Along with a rather short 

stature, he had a grotesque hunchback. 

One day he visited a merchant in Hamburg who had a lovely daughter 

named Frumtje. Moses fell hopelessly in love with her. But Frumtje was 

repulsed by his misshapen appearance. 

When it came time for him to leave, Moses gathered his courage and 

climbed the stairs to her room to take one last opportunity to speak with 

her. She was a vision of heavenly beauty, but caused him deep sadness 

by her refusal to look at him. After several attempts at conversation, 

Moses shyly asked, "Do you believe marriages are made in heaven?" 

"Yes," she answered, still looking at the floor. "And do you?" 

"Yes I do," he replied. "You see, in heaven at the birth of each boy, the 

Lord announces which girl he will marry. When I was born, my future 

bride was pointed out to me. Then the Lord added, 'But your wife will 

be humpbacked.' 

"Right then and there I called out, 'Oh Lord, a humpbacked woman 

would be a tragedy. Please, Lord, give me the hump and let her be 

beautiful.'" 

Then Frumtje looked up into his eyes and was stirred by some deep 

memory. She reached out and gave Mendelssohn her hand and later 

became his devoted wife." 

Barry and Joyce Vissell ( "Chicken Soup for the Soul") 

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      Live your beautiful life! While there is life, there is hope! 


On Love

The day will come when, after harnessing space, the winds, the tides 
and gravitation, we shall harness for God the energies of love. And on 
that day, for the second time in the history of the world, we shall have 
discovered fire. 
Tielhard de Chardin 

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Love: The One Creative Force 
Spread love everywhere you go: first of all in your own house. Give 
love to your children, to your wife or husband, to a next door neighbor. . 
. . Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be 
the living expression of God's kindness; kindness in your face, kindness 
in your eyes, kindness in your smile, kindness in your warm greeting. 
Mother Teresa 

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A college professor had his sociology class go into the Baltimore slums 
to get case histories of 200 young boys. They were asked to write an 
evaluation of each boy's future. In every case the students wrote, "He 
hasn't got a chance." Twenty- five years later another sociology 
professor came across the earlier study. He had his students follow up 
on the project to see what had happened to these boys. With the 
exception of 20 boys who had moved away or died, the students learned 
that 176 of the remaining 180 had achieved more than ordinary success 
as lawyers, doctors and businessmen. 
The professor was astounded and decided to pursue the matter further. 
Fortunately, all the men were in the area and he was able to ask each 
one, "How do you account for your success?" In each case the reply 
came with feeling, 'There was a teacher." 
The teacher was still alive, so he sought her out and asked the old but 
still alert lady what magic formula she had used to pull these boys out of 
the slums into successful achievement. 
The teacher's eyes sparkled and her lips broke into a gentle smile. "It's 
really very simple," she said. "I loved those boys." 

Eric Butterworth 
Chicken Soup for the Soul 


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Spare

Motto: “A room without books is like a body without a soul.”― Marcus Tullius Cicero

What about then a city who spares on the streets tones of written papers?  This view  fired up my imagination. Indeed so many books, so little  time… Collection of thinking, philosophy, history, dramas. People’s life, people’s dreams, people’s acts… Great letters in time… 

Now…Our time to spare ourselves from all the harm… while perusing  all the letters have been left for humanity… Still looking ourselves through the meanings and philosophy…  Still striving for our happiness…still writing the history. The same but still new one. 

 

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“Spare me through your mercy, do not punish me through your justice.”  –  Anselm of Canterbury

“Think occasionally of the suffering of which you spare yourself the sight.”  –  Albert Schweitzer

“There’s time enough, but none to spare.”  –  Charles W. Chesnutt 

In response  to  Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge: “Spare