?

does anybody know the book that is opened at the beginning of the vid?

I have an old power computing 132 that I am trying to get up and running again---the old cd drive was not working---I have purchased a new and when I install it the computer freezes---the drive will open and close, but the computer does not do anything--the mouse still moves but I cannot click on anything---any help would be great---is hard to find any info on a computer this old---

Stalled.

A road ahead unseen.

A roar of a motor unheard.

A rush of wind unfelt.

Here,

alone,

hands on wheel,

key in ignition,

radio at the ready,

top down and a sun looking down

at the ready to chase a fleeting shadow,

I sit.

Unmoved.

Stalled

at the side of this road.

A passenger only in the driver's seat.

I am lima bean green.

I am lazy August sky blue.

I am grape sucker tongue purple.

I am whip cream on hot chocolate white.

I am all that I can name,

and more I would like to.

So as this brush sweeps down on this canvas

I've realized that I am the brush.

The canvas.

The paint.

The colors.

I am the easel, and the walls.

I am the first drop of an inkling,

and the end stroke of a finished thought.

I am the dreamer of a beginning,

and the creator of an end.

I am the measure of satisfaction,

and the holder of completion.

I am the value of the open window,

and the exchange of a door closed.

I am a world of promise,

and a universe of hope.

I am an Artist,

and in that

I am

enough.

Worn and callused hands

reach for another brick,

turn it over,

butter it with cement,

then set it in place

with a light tap from the trowel.

Then reach for another.

Brick beside brick beside brick.

Row upon row upon row.

'til the sun on the horizon sets.

Opening home's door

his ears hear

the scramble of little feet,

and the squeals of "Daddy's home!"

After hugs and kisses,

the worn and callused hands

gently stroke

the soft and tender cheek

of his treasure

knowing it's been a bargain.

Anybody know the name of the song or the artist name. I remember the video was of a female singer coming into a house and singing a song while a couple is fighting. I think the singer had short hair. Not much to go on I know.

the bad cd drive is a toshiba xm-5401ta. is there a new cd drive i can buy that would be compatible with a power computer 132. mac clone. or can i buy an external cd drive that would work?

The time it took for "my eggs" to slam between neurons

and find a vocal cord that still worked

sauntered by in a topcoat and a sigh.

And as I looked up at her,

I thought, are you really being paid enough

to care how I want my eggs?

Did you spend all those days studying

for your spelling tests so you could write

"over easy" over and over?

What crack did you fall through,

winding up here,

in a dirty white dress?

Did the grease in your hair come

when you discovered they were

watching your wiggle?

Is a "More coffee, honey?"

really worth a grubby dollar

on a dirty table?

And just when did taking

somebody else's orders

need to be written down?

Under the undercurrent flows the stream.

The helm in hands not a dream,

but puffs of smoke.

And the voyage means a splash of words

against the bow.

A wind of how it's been unsaid 'til now.

Not a destination,

but a trip into the sway of the ship

with the moment of the sea.

And me,

captain in the gale

of an unfurrowed sail

unleashed.

robert frost, in his famous poem, talks about the road less traveled, anyone have a clue as to what that road is?

has been driving me crazy! is a female folk singer. the titles of two songs i remember were, 'grandma's hands' and 'hard love'. salamat in advance.

let us all

share the bicycle ride.

does anybody have a clue?

let us all

speak the words

dared to be heard.

lets us all

surround ourselves with

dreams of who we might be.

let us all

speak of the world's

dawn of a new age.

let us all

surrender to the

day we might be born.

let us all

stand for nothing, but

dance for something.

let us all

share the bicycle

destination.

softly spoken

Softly spoken words tread

across my mind,

urging themselves onward;

their own breeze and sail.

Bound for what journey,

at what price,

and for whose glory,

destination knows.

Stowaways like hope,

love,

and meaning,

wait quietly below deck,

shining,

that they will be called upon

to blind the darkness

and raise the value of this life,

that these words

might find there way

from oblivion.