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Showing posts with label Listen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Listen. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 13, 2020

Jennifer – Five Thirteen


Jennifer is she
Bright as a morning in May
Sensual and sweet

A light in the dark
My warming breeze in winter
February’s love

Freckles, and green eyes
Her flashing smile lights my heart
As the sun in spring

Clear as the bright stream
Swift as the rising moon, cool
In the evening

She listens to me
Sheltering my hopes, and dreams
Believing in me

Two times every day
I look to the clock for luck
It is five thirteen

She is strong, and fierce
Leaning on her when I’m tired
Then she carries me

Touching me with light
Vulnerable, undaunted
Speaking with her tears

Six years of loving
Kind and caring Valentine
Jennifer is she

Saturday, March 28, 2020

Listen - Editorial, The Week in Review


Analysis, Commentary, Opinion
03.29.2020

Listen


My sensei always use to tell that we have to be rich enough to pay attention.

Pay attention to what is going on around us, look beyond the tip of your nose. Listen to the warning we are being given, comply with the safety measures that are being recommended.

The sooner we all get on the same page, acting in concert with one another the sooner we get through this mess.

Be mindful, the risks you take go far beyond yourself and your family, the COVID-19 virus, if you come in contact with it, will spread out from you, well beyond your sphere of influence.

Limit your exposure, practice social and physical distancing. Do it for your sake, and for the sake of your family, yes do it for those reasons, but do it for everyone else’s families as well, do it for the doctors and nurses and emergency workers who are risking their lives for our sake.

They are heroes, honor their sacrifice.

Listen, and don’t listen.

Don’t listen to the selfish voices around you, correct those , do it gently, but correct those who complain about their need to be with people, to run around the lake, to have a drink with a friend, because they do not want to stay secluded.

You are not being asked to risk your life, to take up arms and go to war, you are only being asked to spend a couple of weeks, or so with yourself.

You can do this, and the sooner we all do it together the sooner we get through this and the sooner life will return to something we recognize as normal.

Do not listen to the conspiracy theorists trying to distract you with their colorful ideas about who dunnit and why, those people are not trying to help you adjust to the circumstances or see our way through it.

Listen to the doctors, listen to the scientists, listen to the men and women in the hospitals, do not listen to the politicians, the media pundits, or the televangelists, trying to make a dollar off your suffering.

Thursday, March 5, 2020

Brenda Ueland – Author



Brenda lived most of her life, writing and teaching in Minneapolis, Minnesota, the city where I grew up, within a mile or two of where I have lived most of my life.

I was well into my forties before I even knew who she was, but from the moment I read her book: If You Want to Write I knew that I had found a mentor whose simple prose and honesty could guide me in the maturation of my own work.

Brenda, taught writing at the YWCA, she published a memoir about her life growing up in Minneapolis. She wrote for local newspapers and magazines.

She was born at the end of the nineteenth century and lived out her twenties in New York City. She was connected to various movements in art,  literature and politics. She was a proto-feminist and revolutionary thinker, and she came to all of that with a simple self-assuredness that was her defining characteristic.

This is why she is a hero to me.

In her teaching, which she summarized in her treatise on writing, she offered the most basic advice to her students: she told them to find their own voice and write from there.

She encouraged her students to simply be themselves, to tell their stories with the written word as if they were speaking to their closest friend, to shout when they are shouting to whisper in the time of whispering.

She told them to be true to themselves, to write with authenticity, because the reader will know if they are faking it.

She encouraged her students to listen to themselves, to become familiar with the sound of their own voice.

Her book on writing had been out of print for nearly forty years until, a few years after her death in the 1980’s, it went back into production and became a best seller.

Like Brenda herself, her book was ahead of its time.   


Given First - 2020.03.05

Tuesday, August 20, 2019

Chained


Ask for a miracle, give everything for nothing

Obsequious and fawning, call on the gods, the ancestors serving with the empty hand

Make yourself holy, prepare the way, mask your desire and cover your fear with ritual intention

Cast yourself to the wind, perform with great flourish, and discover that god has abandoned you

The ancestors are dead, your inheritance is only a faint impression inscribed in the cell 

Their hunger is your hunger, made real by your fear, your worship will not satiate it

Little gods of wood and stone, silent idols like false memories of forebears we never knew

Pietas is the enslavement of the heart and mind, bound by the iron ring of symbol and tradition

Do you hear them speaking?

Listen closely, it is your own voice you are hearing, justifying the path you set yourself on

Obeisance to religion, is fealty to a fiction, a false piety that burns in bright colors on the altar

Listen, the way is one of humility, the relationships before you are the entire world, let go

The past holds people in its rigid-grip, with violence and a lust for life that will not be quelled

We cannot stay bound to it, led about by phantom chains, bolted to the heart, break them apart

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

Doubt


Existential angst, imaginary feelings, dread fabrications

Teetering on the edge of the abyss, descending in the deep, grasping at straws like the drunken on the ego

The painful awareness of getting ahead of yourself, convincing yourself that anything is good…or good enough

If you believe it

Does the burning in your guts satisfy you now?

Do you believe it?

Joy is yours if you desire it, and sorrow waits around the corner if you desire anything at all

You are not alone

This is the human condition

Stand in the presence of God, voice raised in song, a clarion of love

Listen and remember

In what chamber of your heart did you hide the key, the secret of eternity

Fumbling through the webs of uncertainty, stumbling, lost and forgotten on the event-horizon

Stretched in the timeless moment of doubt

Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Prayer


Listen to my prayer, hear it echoing in the dark chamber of my heart

Take me from this island, free my shadow beneath a shower of light

Listen to the music, the harmony of the spheres, the rolling wave beneath the tranquil sea

Remember me, the forgotten, the poetry of Anonymous

The greatest philosopher who never was, the poet of graffiti artists

Pray for the travelers, trudging through this life, marching forward with their doubts

Listen to the forsaken, the wailing of the self-defeated, stretched and thin

Enlightenment reaches everyone, in the end; like the sun-going super nova, small comfort

Pray for the release of the captive, the deliverance of the addict, I pray for you

Say a prayer for me, for mercy on the sinner, broken from the first breath I drew

Pray, as I pray for you

Saturday, November 3, 2018

Observation - November 3rd, 2018, Saturday


Observation

It is the 6th hour of the third day of the eleventh month
There is traffic on the street in the cool November dark
It will be brighter at this hour tomorrow, saving daylight
My kitty does not read a clock, she has one inside her
Tick-tocking with the rapid beat of her kitten’s heart
She is curled up on the couch and I listen to her breathing

Monday, September 3, 2018

Observation - September 3rd, 2018, Monday


Observation


I listen to a car roll by outside my open window
The sound of traffic is low, I have not noticed any busses
There is a beeping like an alarm going off at the nursing home across the street
Or of a van backing up, but it has been going off for hours
It is Labor Day today and the city is still sleeping

Summer is coming to an end

It promises to be warm today, not hot, the breeze is cool and dry
Kitty is running from window to window, chortling in her brisk meow
There is something happening outside
A born squirrel, or a chip monk in the tree
They vanish, and she grows quiet

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Observation - December 1st, 2016, Thursday

Observation

The house smells like onions, and garlic
Herbs, I listen to the sound of a knife chopping
The keen edge against the wooden board
My lovely lady is at the stove, cooking
Listen, a spoon is stirring in the pot
Kitty is sleeping between waves of blankets

It is the 1st of December and raining outside 

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Voice

I am looking for my voice

Have you heard it?

I might have left it with you

Will you listen?

It is a voice in prose

            At times…poetic?

It has a rhythm

Can you feel it?

As it falters, in the skipping beat of my heart

The line may alternate; from short to long, some lines meander, cat-like on a walk about.

Most are short and punchy.

Have you heard it?

My voice; seen it printed

Have you seen it on the screen?

I may have left lying in a notebook

            On a scrap of paper


            Or a random page