Ben Heine Art and Music Blog: February 2009

Obama Vs. The Fear
.

.
One of my illustrations of Obama

I'm Superman

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

Come to my heart knock on wood
Don’t worry, be good I'm your super man

I will let you be what you want to be
Bring you through because I'm superman
Let you have wings - set you free
Fly with me with these wings if you can

Don’t pretend just come on and really fly
Everything I said - I'm going to try
Bringing in all the hope I gave
Just you wait and see and - be with me brave

There is no one other - I'm the one
I am the man with the super sign on
Giving you what real power is and test
And you will have to imagine with me the rest

Because I have the powers of kryptonite
There is no way to test such might
But just come with me and see what I can
Together we can - yes we can! Because I'm superman

All the strength that you couldn't know
Is inside and now coming out so fine!
Every power known - now superman shall show
Just watch my symbol as it glows up like sunshine

Mightier than a jet plane I’ll fly and I promise you
Everything will be to better put and straight
Promises you thought gone I shall again renew
Take away all doubt and settle each debate

I will let you be what you want to be
Bring you through because I'm superman
Let you have wings - set you free
Fly with me with these wings if you can

Don’t pretend just come on and really fly
Everything I said - I'm going to try
Bringing in all the hope I gave
Just you wait and see and - be with me brave

I am the guy who will always stand by your side
Give you opportunities and money in your pocket
Don’t you worry - let the worries away ride
I'll be your superman and fly like a rocket

There is no one other - I'm the one
I am the man with the super sign on
Giving you what real power is and test
And you will have to imagine with me the rest

Because I have the powers of kryptonite
There is no way to test such might
But just come with me and see what I can
Together we can - yes we can! Because I'm superman

Yes we can! Yes we can! Yes we can!
Because I'm superman
.

* * *

Obama Vs. The Fear

By Mark Morford

Everyone I know is feeling a little bipolar right now. Everyone I know is going through the most unusual of psychological and socioeconomic fits, a bit unsure what to do and how to feel and exactly which emotional flush should be the one to modulate their equilibrium on a day-to-day basis.

The conundrum is obvious and compelling and, as always, deeply enhanced -- if not wholly solved -- by vodka.

It goes something like this: Do you allow yourself, even now, to feel any sort of ongoing, relieved, merciful joy that Barack Obama actually is sitting in the Big Chair in the White House? That this elegant, articulate, Zen-like man whose integrity is rock-solid and whose ideas, while certainly not in perfect alignment with every ultra-lefty vision on the planet (clean coal? Please), are astonishingly ambitious and brave, is leading this nation during one of the worst economic times in its short and paroxysmal history?

Or do you say whatever, sorry, no time for that. Everything's plummeting and jobs are dying and (in my case, certainly) the industry you've worked for your entire career is gasping its last breath, and therefore, melancholy and dread and panic are the only truly appropriate responses, because I don't care how great the guy is, any smile that might cross my face when I see him gets immediately wiped out as soon as I ponder my 401k?

It's a bizarre choice indeed. The good news is, the Obamafied bliss is still out there, still swirling, still waiting to be supped like a fine digestif. At any given moment you can, if you so choose, pause in whatever it is you're suffering from and hear that voice and see his visage or perhaps merely hear some pundit say the words "President Obama" out loud, and you can still enjoy that delicious chill, that little jolt that says, "Oh my God, did we really do it? Is that lucid, impeccably centered man really the leader of the free world?"

Hey, it sure beats doing your taxes.

>>> Read the full article
.

.
Illustration on paper

.
Poll: Obama More Popular Than Jesus, Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr.

John Lennon once claimed the Beatles were more popular than Jesus. Now President Obama has evidence that he's more popular than both.

Obama topped a new Harris interactive poll that asked 2,634 Americans who they admire enough to call a hero.

Jesus came in second on a list that includes God, Mahtma Gandhi and George Washington.

Other historic or notable figures making the top 10 were Martin Luther King Jr., Ronald Reagan, George W. Bush, Abraham Lincoln, John McCain, John F. Kennedy, U.S. Airways pilot Chesley Sullenberger and Mother Teresa.

Participants named the heroes randomly instead of being shown or read a list of people to choose from. The poll was conducted online between January 12 and 19, 2009.

At the 16th spot in the poll, George Washington, Bill Clinton and Colin Powell tied.

Other politicians who made the poll's top 25 include Hillary Clinton (12), FDR (13), Condoleezza Rice (12) and Sarah Palin (21).

God ranked 11th, between Mother Teresa and Hillary Clinton.

Of the multiple reasons participants gave to explain their choices of heroes, the ones most cited is, "Doing what's right regardless of personal consequences" with 89 percent, "Not giving up until the goal is accomplished" with 83 percent and "Doing more than what other people expect of them," with 82 percent. Also popular were "Overcoming adversity" and "Staying level-headed in a crisis."

In the first Harris Poll asking this question in 2001, Jesus came in first, followed by the Rev. King, Powell, John F. Kennedy and Mother Teresea.

Obama joked last year at a roast that contrary to rumors, he was not born in a manger but on the planet Krypton. Apparently, Obama is even more popular than Superman, who didn't make the cut.

--------------

--> The above article appeared on Foxnews.com
.

A Flower for You
.

.
Abstract painting on paper

.
A Flower of
Blossom Dim

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

I want to touch your inner wing
With a kiss of my dark
Whereas the hours of night sing
With tones of the lark
A flower of blossom dim
My heart on to you will try
With emotions of whimsy whim
That opens up winter sky

Oh hold me in darkness long
With flowers of blackness blue
And give me your night love song
That comes with a cleansing thru
What have you here given me?
That is from the other site
And becomes in my fluid free
When we our love have tried

Sweetness so ever in deep
From roots of the fallen heart
Ours forever to keep
When lights again shall start
Trust every footstep's embrace
That beats the stoned road on
There are many turning ways
To get back when lights are gone
.

Milky Way
.

Song to Milky
Way Far

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

Bring me the songs that are gone
Everything is in the past
I once thought the sun always shone
But now I know nothing will last
Dreams are like dreams everyday
Giving you something of pleasure
On they just turn and play
Filling my mind with leisure

Hope is like the moon in the dark
Just before clouds hide it out
Then again suddenly it will spark
Filling with gleam darkness about
Empty but bright some thoughts are
Filling the mind with promises too
Just like a wish or the Milky Way far
Nothing will come - nothing will do

Give me the poems that became day
Into the minds where hope stood only
Leading rare commodities giving a way
For everyone that's from paradise lonely
Rich is the earth - everything gets lost
All shorts of moods have been with me
Many track stones I have crisscrossed
Some were stepping others would-be

Scream
.

Scream

Unknown Author

the silence is shattered
the screams ring out
i wish for the calm before the storm
but all within me shouts

my screams never heard
no matter how loud
it just merges in
with the rest of the crowd

my voice is failing
the fears suppressed
I have no clue
how to work through the rest

the screams get louder
can no one hear
i scream and scream
still no where near

no one hears just what i say
i could scream and scream
til my dying day
.

The Lamp of Life
(Florence, Italy)
.

The Lamp of Life

By Amy Lowell

Always we are following a light,
Always the light recedes; with groping hands
We stretch toward this glory, while the lands

We journey through are hidden from our sight
Dim and mysterious, folded deep in night,
We care not, all our utmost need demands

Is but the light, the light! So still it stands
Surely our own if we exert our might.

Fool! Never can'st thou grasp this fleeting gleam,
Its glowing flame would die if it were caught,

Its value is that it doth always seem
But just a little farther on. Distraught,

But lighted ever onward, we are brought
Upon our way unknowing, in a dream.

(Poem's source: Americanpoems.com)
.

Heaven on Earth
.

Over The
Rainbow

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

Over the rainbow
I'm waiting for you,
Hours that overflow
Into the blue;
What can I say,
No words will give
Another bright day,
In futures to live.

We might be happy
With what we have got,
Though times get snappy
For what they are not;
Bright sides and bluebirds
Yesterday's spring,
On and on new flirts
As tender hearts sing.

Over the cloudy sky
Where wonders meets eyes,
Our time passes by
And futures new lies;
Just a step here beyond
Oh blow wind oh blow,
No earth is there bond
Only colors of glow.
.

My Way
.

I Walk in Life
The Way I Am

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

I walk in life the way I am
Sometimes strong and sometimes weak
I have my happy hours too
Some are like those you might seek

I hope everybody finds their way
That's the purpose for being here
Different goals we might find out
Coming from distance everywhere

I walk in life with love and care
It's the way we all should do
Sorrows and joys we might share
So come and join by being you

We walk in life unperfectly
For nothing is too absolute
Take a look from inside me
There may lay your different route

I hope everybody finds their way
And joy with dreams they share
For tomorrow is another day
I hope I'll be finding you there

The Prison of
Loneliness
.

In A House of the
Lonesome Night

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

Down the streets where I'm from
A song comes easily to play
On the piano chords I strum
But nothing for long will stay
The days are like a river
In their calling and longing's fire
The voices of the wind shiver
While whispering to me its desire

In a house of the lonesome night
Love songs of my dreams away
Come in their fancy and flight
Each of their shading and lay
A love is man's truest giver
Of anything that comes and goes
And the poet their passions deliver
To give words that the wind blows

Down the streets there are no names
Only leaves that are dancing on
In flickering shadows and flames
Till the hours of longing is gone
Every day has its own true meaning
With life that clashes and unfolds
In ways of disclosure and gleaning
Every aspect of its living remolds

Take Us Away
.

.
One of my pics from Portugal.

Dark Blue

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

Dark blue and red bleed,
The sky of the twilight hour;
So much indifference and agreed,
Sweet ways and sour.
There were times we regretted,
Such a long journey and year;
Yesterdays - even absentminded,
And silly jokes to bear.

Then came dawn and new day,
Charging high through night fires;
Turning and running away,
With our forgotten desires.
All this time is now up burning,
Stop it shall not, hence it will steer;
Like threads to the reason learning,
Nothing forever to adhere.

The end we preferred to travel,
Perhaps alone and even forgotten;
And look at our own to marvel,
Inside hidden or store-boughten.
Times will keep coming - going,
Like the ships to the shore reach;
Everything to distance's growing,
Summers to our memories - each!
.

Bring The Light
.

© 2009 - Ben Heine

Come Here - Light

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

After light comes darkness
And after darkness comes light
For you and with - I shall caress
And fly onto your flight
To the sunshine nearby
Just across the dim sea
Through the blue morning sky
That the soul sets free

Every hour of the dark
Shall not dwell on too long
For the gleams must spark
In a new day breaking song
That shall melt any ice
That has broken its way
In the roots full of lies
That now meet brighter day

Come here with your speech
In to love of the far
With every thought it’ll teach
Of peace – not of war
Come here in your wings
Fly among true love
With what it to the heart brings
Full of sunshine from above

Image Hunter
.

.
Eyes of the First Light

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

Strings of care for in summer's night
Beautiful days of its glowing shades
On to early cock-crow coming bright
Every glistening start to muted fades
Days and looks of the drifting clouds
With flowers to touch and hours to feel
Summer in misty and woody shrouds
So much of reason and so much unreal

Sky of the night here is glistening on
Through going lights of the Milky Way
Carrying old dreams till they're gone
In the rousing of a freshly instinctive day
Eyes of the first light brightening high
Through every rising opening new glow
Every of life's footfall again will try
To experience its existence and then go

Day is so easy at dawn's early gleam
When the daylight hour begins to show
When veracity is nothing but a dream
A torch of a morning increasing in slow

Geoffroy Coomans
de Brachène and I

Geoffroy Coomans de Brachène and I met some time ago during an exhibition of my "erotico-fantastico-burlesque" paintings in the centre of Brussels, Belgium. Geoffroy is a great friend and a very promising Belgian liberal politician.
.

Reynier Carballosa
.

.
Rey is a Cuban friend.
He is currently teaching
Spanish language in a
university in Tours, France.
I met him in Brussels
2 weeks ago.

Safari
.

.
Adventure

A poem by Steven Curtis Lance

Adventure awaits us
And misadventure too
Daily life debates us
Challenging us to do
That which we cannot bear

That is unless we dare
To cross over borders
Transcending disorders
Defying our own past
To find the now at last

Adventure awaits us
And misadventure too
But destiny fates us
To do what we must do
To get from here to there

And where is there? To be
Within the now and free

(The poem appeared
on Authorsden.com)
.

Mikado
.

.
This is my old Siamese cat
(almost 20 years!), Mikado.
He is a real survivor! :)
.
Angel Eyes

By Peter S. Quinn

There is always morning
In these blue blue eyes
Every sweet and longing
With faraway dream skies
You are comfortably near
When you are by my site
I love to have you here
Each morning, day and night

There's always dreamy glow
In your northern stars
Tears that from inside flow
Like celestial quasars
You have given me my dreams
From a night gone to day
Where blue to outside streams
Like new dawn on its way

There is always with you
Love with so much earnestly
Irises so sweet and blue
Giving love and hope to me
I will want to have here
With my dreams and longings
Reaching out to somewhere
Like the new morning sings
.

Somewhere in
the Future
.

Element to
Another

By Peter S. Quinn

Rest in the air
Unsettled light future
The dreams from here
Minute’s away moocher
Depopulate its echoes
Moment’s cane of sense
Into the existence goes
Each of its fragments

Element to another
Inhabit no landscapes
Apprehensive foremother
The bringer of shapes
Through the row lost
Meanings of limbo words
Phantoms thought mossed
Pole lines blackbirds

Into the evening
With its own afterglow
Lonely again it'll sing
Before its last go
Draft of shades walking
All the flashes of flame
Forms of change chalking
Into intended endgame
.