Some of the kimonos took as long as four to five months to make, with all the layers that go into it.

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Island Fever

Island fever
I think Ive got a touch of island fever
I do believe I feel a bit sauteed
This morning I was just some nonbeliever
Tonight I feel Ive joing a wild crusade
I never thought of life as being breezy
I never thought of time as time to play
I never thought that I could take it easy
But all those feelings changed for me today
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Are finding their way to my brain
Layers and layers of costumes and players
That make my whole life look insane
Palm trees and views I cant believe
Why would I ever want to leave?
I think Ill take my shoes off and go walking
Down beside the caribbean sea.
I like the funny sounds of parrots squawking
I think I hear a hammock calling me.
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
I think Ive got a touch of island fever...

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Layers

Above are layers of atmosphere, stratosphere,
Below layers of topsoil, rock and clay,
People in layers rich and poor,
Cities built on top of cities, on top of cities.

Layers of thought conscious to unconscious,
Felt in layers asleep to awake,
In a dream of a dream, of a dream in a dream,
In a dream of a dream, in a dream.

poem by Richard JarboeReport problemRelated quotes
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Layers And Layers

we meet i only have one layer
we talk and i added another layer
we discuss and i added more layers
we dive to a certain depth and of course
i have to add more and more layers
so i may not drown
so i may not be too vulnerable to pressure

and when we come out of the water
our faces surfacing you do not recognize me anymore
i have layers and layers of myself
that even me
i cannot anymore recognize

the violence within
this turbulence of the self
this storm inside us
this layers and layers of selves
covering the truth

how can i ever uncover
what my depths cover from time to time
when you utter my name?

when you tell me that
i am myself.

there is no self.
There is no us.

There is no future.
I have only the past
and My now

Like a fruit basket
all naked on top of your table.

Just take one
The apple perhaps.
And fill yourself.

For the moment.

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Take A Pick For The Moment

we meet i only have one layer
we talk and i added another layer
we discuss and i added more layers
we dive to a certain depth and of course
i have to add more and more layers
so i may not drown
so i may not be too vulnerable to pressure

and when we come out of the water
our faces surfacing you do not recognize me anymore
i have layers and layers of myself
that even me
i cannot anymore recognize

the violence within
this turbulence of the self
this storm inside us
this layers and layers of selves
covering the truth

how can i ever uncover
what my depths cover from time to time
when you utter my name?

when you tell me that
i am myself.

there is no self.
There is no us.

There is no future.
I have only the past
and My now

Like a fruit basket
all fresh on top of your table.

Just take one
The apple perhaps.
And fill yourself.

For the moment.

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Looking Back To The Mountains Strong

when things go wrong
we struggle with so much
silence

sometimes a whistle can make
a good pretension

a slight tap on the back
a hug can make a good compliment

with us
there must be more to this struggle in silence

the years have been adding up
like layers of soil upon a hill

we dig into all these layers
to find roots

they are not dead yet
the trees may have no leaves and

all the twigs may have dried up
and when you cut it

each shall give up its hollowness
too easily in a snap of your finger

the layers are pictures of what we are
what kindness we extended to our shortcomings

we look back to see mountains still strong with their peaks
we look forward to the endless horizon of the seas

there are two suns now
you and I.

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So many layers

every poem
i wrote
a part of me
taken off
a butterfly
leaving behind
its larvae
to take on wings
and colours
to explore the world
to give world
another layer
to fascinate over
van gogh
that shed
so many layers
to bring out
those layers
on his canvas
to our hearts
layers of pains,
tears, and......

poem by John Tiong ChunghooReport problemRelated quotes
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In real life, a lot of people at that level will have their kimonos made especially for them.

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Layers Of Wet Paint Applied

wet on wet paint on paint
layers of wet paint applied
to previous layered layers
technique requires rapid working
fevered fast compulsive genius painting
art in realms born in new mind expressions
art in realms born in space time multiversity visions
art work fever finished before first layers have dried

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Lucy Liu

Women who wear kimonos, when the fight, they have to keep their knees together, and when they use a sword, they have to move the sleeves otherwise it gets caught.

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Asakusa Samba Festival
helplessly manoevring their kimonos
old geishas

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The older the layers, the more each of them is uniform over a great extent; the newer the layers, the more they are limited and subject to variation within small distances.

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Artwork

Artwork is particular, general works are about,
The scrutiny of an artistic work is immense;
The world profoundly elucidates me as an artist,
The big methods employed are far beyond mere thought.

What layers of thought have enriched us and all?
The layers of justice reside in the palettes of the masters;
Demonstrations of peace are derived from the work of art,
We must lunge forward into the dark and make benefit.

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Seven Layers of Heaven

touch,
sight,
taste,
hear,
smell
....
....
seven layers
of heaven
set in me
two more
layers
lost in
myself
clouded
in the views
cast by the world
heaven
comes in
seven
layers
so say hindus,
chinese,
buddhists,
even the muslims
and hell?
between
all
the senses
the heart
that torments
the doers
for
his misdeeds
the fugitive
who manages
to run away from
everybody
but not
the burning hell
of conscience
that pokes
at his top
making him bleed
at the heart
day and night
hell and heaven
bound in this
frame of
heart, soul
and mind
a living hell?
the heaven
in seven layers
the other two layers?
sixth sense?
seventh sense?
two puzzles
that wait
for an answer
hidden
in the realms
that circle
around me
i look into the sky
and journey
to the
eternal sphere
that joins me
to the moons, stars
try taking me
out of this world
and it sure looks different
feel different
a whole new world
the seventh sense
seventh heaven
the sixth?
the woman
who digs
deep into
layers of her own mind
to find the dates
of her own death
and exciting upcoming events
of the world, the tsunami
third world war,
end of the world
a nostradamus
a hell in between all these?
the scorn
from bigots
two layers
of heaven that got lost
in me
covered by
the clouds
five is perhaps
a more lucky number

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For six months I'd do movies and make it all about me. Then the other six months, it's not about me and it doesn't matter what my hair looks like or what anything looks like.

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We will have close to 3 months of rehearsals to learn about 30 songs. Frank usually rehearsed a band for at least 3 months. If it took him that long to be comfortable we probably would need double the amount, but It's just not financially possible to do so.

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It's the texture of New York that people miss by filming elsewhere. There are layers and layers of character - even in the pavement - that you can't get anywhere else. And the speed that the people move. It's so different from other places.

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Layers

You must consider that everything is layered

The earth has layers of air, water, soil, rock, fire to its
Core
Molten fire

A fruit has layers of an external cover
Something hard, then soft and a
Sometimes a hollow core

A cake has layers too of sugar coating
Moist cake
And chocolate
End layer

My body has layers of skin
Tissue, flesh, bone
And nerves and
Marrow
The core can be hollow

And the mind
The soul has layers of understanding
Layers and layers of consciousness
To sub consciousness
Ego superego
To a layer
Beyond our grasp

Tips of the tongues
Slippages
Déjà vu
Memory gaps
Did we meet somewhere?
Do I remember you?
These sorts of some things
That happen which we know we can explain yet we can’t

Something somewhere

Could be
What if
Was I there somewhere sometime?
She somehow touches me and I feel it
I don’t really remember when

That smile that you wear was the same smile I saw somewhere

Foggy places, opaque faces, vague bodies hugging us in dreams
Murky rivers bathing us hazy rains lazily sizing Zen in showers

Some windows in some house
Remaining close

My heart is light and it is flying like a little light bird on its first wing

There is always a sense of awe and wonder to everything that I do here

An onion peeling, layer by layer, tear by tear

Here. I am. Here I am becoming unfolding to another beginning

No entries and no exits
Off limits, nothing yet allowed.

Meanwhile I am breathing, smelling something somewhere.

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William Butler Yeats

In Memory Of Eva Gore-Booth And Con Markiewicz

The light of evening, Lissadell,
Great windows open to the south,
Two girls in silk kimonos, both
Beautiful, one a gazelle.
But a raving autumn shears
Blossom from the summer's wreath;
The older is condemned to death,
Pardoned, drags out lonely years
Conspiring among the ignorant.
I know not what the younger dreams -
Some vague Utopia - and she seems,
When withered old and skeleton-gaunt,
An image of such politics.
Many a time I think to seek
One or the other out and speak
Of that old Georgian mansion, mix
pictures of the mind, recall
That table and the talk of youth,
Two girls in silk kimonos, both
Beautiful, one a gazelle.

Dear shadows, now you know it all,
All the folly of a fight
With a common wrong or right.
The innocent and the beautiful.
Have no enemy but time;
Arise and bid me strike a match
And strike another till time catch;
Should the conflagration climb,
Run till all the sages know.
We the great gazebo built,
They convicted us of guilt;
Bid me strike a match and blow.

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Shannen Doherty

I met Ashley two weeks before I married him. It was a joke-the most ridiculous thing I've ever done. Once I was married, I didn't want to be a failure, so I stuck it out for six months, which was about six months too long.

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Either/or

either you go
and run free like
a child bathing
naked under the rain

or you wear all your
underwears
and coats and masks
and you hide inside
your room and lock
all your windows
and doors
and disconnect
the electric current
from your doorbell

these are layers and
layers of choices


but whatever that is
that you pick from the rest

that is still poetry to me

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