tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41422671475652079782024-02-21T09:43:33.724-05:00A Momentary Taste of BeingReflections on literature, writing, and the writing lifeStevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.comBlogger3457125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-76057946587970736472017-07-17T09:51:00.000-04:002017-07-17T09:51:10.164-04:00Human and Humane<br />
<br />
Sometimes<br />
in the face of such<br />
evil the only human<br />
response<br />
is apology,<br />
is listening to the stories<br />
you do not want<br />
to hear or believe<br />
and accepting them<br />
as part of the world<br />
you do not know<br />
and then making<br />
amends--truly setting<br />
things to rights,<br />
truly liberating the captive<br />
who has been so long<br />
languishing through<br />
a sin--<br />
not commission,<br />
not truly omission,<br />
but complete inattention,<br />
indifference.<br />
<br />
It is indifference that robs<br />
us of any trace of humanity--<br />
the willingness to allow<br />
things to be, so long as<br />
they don't affect me or mine.<br />
<br />
Indifference tamps down the cobbles<br />
with which hate paves the pathway<br />
to hell for all of us. Indifference<br />
is an invitation to inhumanity.<br />
<br />Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-33662018722860741912017-07-11T08:58:00.000-04:002017-07-11T09:02:11.445-04:00Poem--The Clock That Opens Time<br />
<br />
Standing at the bathroom sink<br />
brushing my teeth<br />
I think about the time<br />
my brother pulled the golden<br />
glass-domed clock<br />
from her desk<br />
and she cried and said<br />
because it wasn't cylindrical<br />
but more oval, the glass couldn't be replaced.<br />
And I felt her pain and said<br />
I'm sorry,<br />
and felt that moment that<br />
I was really talking<br />
to her wherever she might be,<br />
but she was for certain with me<br />
and without her I am not<br />
and then spoke the truth I saw<br />
"But<br />
you had<br />
some share<br />
of the blame--<br />
putting a thirteen year old boy<br />
who wanted nothing<br />
more than to be left alone<br />
in charge of his little brothers."<br />
<br />
And I still love you.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-4686600103700214902017-06-16T10:21:00.001-04:002017-06-16T10:21:04.071-04:00A Most ReadJoyceful Bloomsday!<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Your annual reminder that Ulysses is for everyone: </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Will you read it?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“and yes I said yes I will Yes.”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br />
Longer excerpt:</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">“I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Joyce was absolutely terrible at formal poetry, because his poetry is in his writing. ReadJoyce!</span></div>
Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-9663802805575190592017-06-16T10:15:00.000-04:002017-06-16T10:15:17.095-04:00Bloomsday<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I had a sandwich there</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">And read the window and bronze plaque</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">but it was not Gorgonzola.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">II</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I passed the siren's tavern</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">which I did not see and crossed</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">quietly over the placid Liffey.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">III</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">You would have laughed to see</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">my thrill at finding old Tommy Moore</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">and his once-urinal.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">IV</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Out past Dun Laoghaire</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">where the chill North Sea meets</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">the Forty Foot--the Martello Tower.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">V</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">James Joyce hopscotched</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">every brick in Dublin to celebrate</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">the date of his love.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">VI</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Sirens and Cyclopes and Wandering Rocks all for a beer and some cheese.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">VII</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Breakfast kidneys and</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">chemist and Leopold leaves</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Molly abed.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">VIII</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">he thinks fine day for</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">a funeral even if I</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">flee and find my father.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">XI</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">A fine edifice and fancy</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">facade for mothering maters</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">about to bear.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">X</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Ah rejoyce and rejoyce</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">again that we readjoyce for</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">doubling our Dublin.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">XI</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">While just inside Stephen proves</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">by algebra he is the ghost of his own father,</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Leopold loses it for a moment.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">XII</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">And a toast to the place</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">In Paris that gave</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">the world Joyce's Dublin.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13.8px;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><br /></div>
Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-82414939704791000872017-06-08T10:55:00.000-04:002017-06-08T10:55:01.607-04:00Echo<br />
<br />
<br />
Did you hear me when<br />
I whispered your name to the dew<br />
that had not yet formed? When I<br />
stirred the clear water of a sticky stream<br />
and found in the eddies and whirls<br />
a language only I could read?<br />
<br />
I carried you<br />
like the single breath of an ancient<br />
bird preserved in lithographic limestone,<br />
like all the salt of the sea bound and floating.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-88785008403596009562017-06-07T08:16:00.002-04:002017-06-07T08:16:25.620-04:00I read a poem and set<br />
the book down in front<br />
of the fan that is never<br />
off and I let it turn<br />
a few pages before<br />
I pick it up and read<br />
another poem<br />
<br />
May Sarton "Salt Lick"<br />
<br />
and it's time to go to work<br />
so I close the book<br />
and write this poem.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-27241551688353254782017-06-07T07:33:00.003-04:002017-06-07T07:33:51.761-04:00Sandhill Cranes<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 12.869711875915527px;">Their majesties--three Sandhill</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 12.869711875915527px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 12.869711875915527px;">Cranes, parents and a chick,</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 12.869711875915527px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 12.869711875915527px;">step out to survey their domain,</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 12.869711875915527px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 12.869711875915527px;">and pause their stately strut</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 12.869711875915527px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 12.869711875915527px;">to nod (noblesse oblige) at doting</span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 12.869711875915527px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 12.869711875915527px;">subjects in their stopped cars.</span>Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-78493600746949554522017-06-04T08:50:00.002-04:002017-06-04T08:50:54.036-04:00When you<br />
<br />
When you look at the beautiful<br />
things of the world, what do you<br />
see? How do they speak? What<br />
language is whispered in your<br />
ear? How do you know the loveliness<br />
of the turquoise wave, of the pebbled<br />
shore, of a marble in a vacant park<br />
relaxing her robust nakedness against<br />
the manicured green?Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-34388225992415647322017-06-03T08:47:00.002-04:002017-06-03T08:47:28.445-04:00Like the dragonfly trapped in my car<br />
I beat against the windshield<br />
uncomprehendingly seeking the light<br />
but barred from it by some barrier<br />
I cannot see. Sometimes flying the length<br />
of the window, sometimes perched<br />
an inch from freedom, ignoring the indraft.<br />
Oh for a Hand to guide me to open air!Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-42129466151754615592017-06-03T08:45:00.001-04:002017-06-03T08:45:33.160-04:00How we feel<br />
Is an illusion<br />
we chooseStevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-58920300805384901602017-05-25T08:42:00.001-04:002017-05-25T08:42:58.104-04:00<div style="border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Today I saw<br style="margin-top: 0px;" />sea eagle piercing<br />the blue sky</div>
<div style="border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
silver glinting<br />from his talons<br />promises there will be<br />a tomorrow.</div>
Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-81304409236289738782017-05-20T12:03:00.003-04:002017-05-20T12:03:35.719-04:00Not first upon the Cross God let Himself be slain,<br />
For see! He lieth dead there at the feet of Cain.<br />
<br />
--Angelus Silesius<br />
<br />
*****<br />
<br />
Goodness this is a powerful reminder and brings forward what it means to be in the image and likeness of God. When we lay violent hands on any person, we lay violent hands on God himself--Matthew 25:40:<br />
<br />
"And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-43620246327280414782017-05-19T09:17:00.001-04:002017-05-19T09:17:26.891-04:00Poem: On Looking at the Columns in the Temple of HathorOn Looking at the Columns in the Temple of Hathor<br />
<br />
What dim, flickering, ageless age<br />
you speak to us--an ageless age<br />
that changes in the mind of<br />
the one who sees it. How many<br />
worked for how long to make<br />
these columns and friezes to tell<br />
us what story? How much shadowed<br />
labor in what heat and weather?<br />
How many working here and how<br />
many others to support the work<br />
they did?<br />
<br />
It beggars the imagination<br />
to think--no outlets, no switches<br />
nothing but the muscled labor of men<br />
and women and beasts. No eight-hour<br />
day and then off to be with family, no unions, no protection from elements<br />
or random anger. And yet all done<br />
all to glorify a silent goddess--joy and<br />
a mother's abiding love.<br />
<br />
What connection<br />
have I now to what this meant to you<br />
when it was new--when ground was<br />
cleared and tamped and set for<br />
the work of long years, when bright<br />
blue skies and sun washed days pounded<br />
harder than the hard hours of long toil.<br />
<br />
How can I connect to what it took<br />
to do this--to even draw the plans<br />
for it? Me, a child of my days and years<br />
who thinks an hour here and there more<br />
than my allotted is fierce and terrible<br />
toil, who retires to his modern- day<br />
fainting couch when I step through<br />
the door to greet the wall of weather<br />
that pressed back. I cannot, and yet<br />
the hint of cool reflection and vast<br />
depth touches me across these years<br />
and I think how new it is.<br />
<br />
Three times<br />
new--when built, when sifted from<br />
the shifting desert sands, and each<br />
time a person comes to see it for<br />
the first time. Your effort then has<br />
seen your work stand to teach awe<br />
to each generation.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-28588633086012608072017-05-14T13:59:00.001-04:002017-05-14T13:59:38.571-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is the problem with today,<br />we look to the future and the past,<br />we're taught to do it from the time we can think,<br />and here we look to both ways--<br />To the future that we are building memories<br />(the past) for, with not so much<br />as a sidelong glance to the fact<br />that when we live Romantic nows<br />the past and the future take care of themselves.</div>
Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-36403017207510339532017-05-13T16:32:00.001-04:002017-05-13T16:32:23.827-04:00Instead of focusing on the outer cosmos, Socrates focused primarily on human beings and their cosmos within, utilizing his method to open up new realms of self-knowledge while at the same time exposing a great deal of error, superstition, and dogmatic nonsense. The Spanish-born American philosopher and poet George Santayana said that Socrates knew that “the foreground of human life is necessarily moral and practical” and that “it is so even so for artists”—and even for scientists, try as some might to divorce their work from these dimensions of human existence.<br />
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<br />Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-47255153063937311992017-05-13T09:32:00.000-04:002017-05-13T09:36:28.698-04:00With T. S. Eliot on the Beach<div style="border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; margin-top: -0.1em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
"From the moment of inception<br />
a poem must be driven<br />
by the meaning you would give to it"<br />
<br />
"Oh Tom, not this again, please--<br />
look at the ocean, the sun just reflecting,<br />
the pelican raising his head to swallow a fish."<br />
<br />
"That's it! That's it exactly!<br />
The three persons of the trinity--<br />
the Holy Ghost present to all equally,<br />
the Father Ocean in whom we live and move<br />
and have our being and most of all<br />
the Pelican Christ, who moves<br />
on the surface of the Father and engulfs<br />
sinners to their salvation. "<br />
<br />
"Eh," I say, "can't the ocean be the ocean<br />
and the waves just waves? Can't sand<br />
be sand no matter how we sculpt it?"<br />
<br />
"Poetry isn't for the faint of heart<br />
or the weak of will, its for men of stout<br />
heart and strong mind who know what they mean<br />
and say it with full force of their words."<br />
<br />
"Why can't poetry just be beautiful. . ."<br />
<br />
"It must be beautiful but not just,<br />
it must persuade and convince by its beauty<br />
but it's beauty is not meant for just anyone.<br />
Only the strong and the wise can read and benefit."<br />
<br />
"But what of the greats of the past?<br />
Byron, Keats, Shelley, Wordsworth. . ."<br />
<br />
"And Coleridge, I know. And Southey<br />
and Tennyson and their hordes of versifying<br />
dilettantes? Scribblers of rhyme,<br />
memorializers of daffodils and shepherd girls,<br />
reprobates and seducers, from Donne to me<br />
the flame of Erato threatened to gutter out."<br />
<br />
At his words a black shape sounded<br />
broke the sheet-like surface of the green<br />
and rippling ocean and vanished again.<br />
<br />
"Did you see? Did you search in the sea, Tom."<br />
<br />
"Oh I saw, deeper and farther and with<br />
greater presence and mien than any who<br />
had come before, I spoke to men of genius<br />
and they heard and turned us, slowly, slowly<br />
away from all that would consume us.<br />
Because I saw and sounded the warning<br />
we now live as we do."<br />
<br />
I couldn't stifle my laugh which grew into a roar,<br />
"Really Tom? Your poetry? *The Waste Land*<br />
forged a new future. Oh you ashen specter,<br />
You pale figure of a man who can stand<br />
by the sea and see a symbol. All you did<br />
was steal poetry from the people who had<br />
so long relished it and locked it up,<br />
wan and wilting in an academic cupboard,<br />
secured it from the eyes of those who would save it<br />
and saved it for the eyes of those who would conserve it. . . "<br />
<br />
I tossed a pebble into the water<br />
and watched the ghost crab sidle<br />
to his lodgings in the chambers of the sea<br />
and listened to the waves and gulls<br />
and the sudden silences of the sea<br />
and realized that the mermaids were singing,<br />
and they were singing for me.</div>
Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-63590538613571216602017-05-10T20:20:00.001-04:002017-05-10T20:21:24.367-04:00<div style="border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
I just read this poem and fell in love with it. A picture rather than a typescript because you have to see it for it to mean.</div>
<img class="large-image" id="396CE1A8BE8B490F99614E0134CE1365" src="file:///private/var/mobile/Containers/Shared/AppGroup/337475C0-7DEB-4AC0-B876-2D1304B8C7D8/DayOnePhotos/a24120d7cfeb1deb0b27c87b93b26a28.jpeg" style="border: 0px; color: #333333; display: block; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 1.5em; margin: 5px auto 0px -20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: calc(100% + 40px);" /><br />
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I first read it in a Keillor collection where all design was removed and it still entranced me, but now even more properly arrayed. As set in Keillor's book, the poem is rather like pâté de foie gras, sans pâté, pas de gras. </div>
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Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Central Park West.</div>
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Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-87497445745250033742017-05-10T19:45:00.001-04:002017-05-10T19:45:56.201-04:00And when you write, write.<br />
one word in front of another<br />
your meaning, your meaning<br />
their meaning, their meaning<br />
expanding the boundary<br />
to bursting, and who cares?<br />
Because now it is one word one word one word<br />
<br />
a pile of words.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-64146951294103448582017-05-10T19:39:00.003-04:002017-05-10T19:39:31.075-04:00To StarbucksI truly love<br />
your energy efficient<br />
high green grass-covered<br />
hut with fake fireplace<br />
and long bench with chairs<br />
heavy as thrones for<br />
overlooking the lake<br />
some people made to build<br />
things on while watching<br />
the tethered balloon reel<br />
in and out like some giant<br />
fishing rod pulling people<br />
out of the cerulean<br />
dyed blue.<br />
<br />
Even more I love<br />
the people who try<br />
to please with smooth<br />
and carefully trained<br />
efficiency who have<br />
to deal with idiots like<br />
me who refuse to conform<br />
to your tone-y café<br />
lingo and who instead<br />
ask for the biggest<br />
or the next size down<br />
or the smallest.<br />
<br />
But truth to tell<br />
I'd rather go to<br />
Panera, McDonald's<br />
Dunkin Donuts,<br />
the local sinkhole<br />
or frogpond<br />
to find something<br />
to drink<br />
<br />
Despite your colorful<br />
and sometimes<br />
insipidly controversial cups.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-31897054479172140292017-05-10T19:26:00.000-04:002017-05-10T20:46:28.922-04:00The Topologist's Frustration<br />
<br />
Can you imagine!<br />
He was looking<br />
for a sphere with one<br />
handle and all he could<br />
find was his hidden wife's<br />
Japanese Tea ceremony set<br />
minus the pot--<br />
cups so delicate and thin<br />
you could breathe through them.<br />
<br />
<br />
*****<br />
note: while this may seem to be needlessly obscure it helps to know that a sphere with one handle (or even with a hole in it) is topologically identical to a coffee cup. More or less.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-37009311520926404452017-05-10T19:09:00.002-04:002017-05-10T19:09:58.514-04:00Lecture on Poetry<br />
<br />
Start<br />
with the<br />
assumption<br />
that the poet<br />
is writing about some-<br />
thing, not just playing with<br />
words, note I said "just playing"<br />
because all poets play with<br />
words just like your toddler<br />
plays with food, folds it<br />
up, mashes it down,<br />
stirs it up<br />
makes it<br />
good.<br />
<br />
Yum.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-14819731687211246882017-05-10T19:00:00.000-04:002017-05-10T20:28:08.137-04:00In Case You Were Asking--Coffee<br />
<br />
Maybe there would be<br />
a donut there, or perhaps<br />
nothing to make the coffee<br />
<br />
better, you could never<br />
tell but you also couldn't lose<br />
counting on bad coffee--<br />
<br />
so bitter and burnt your<br />
tongue would feel better<br />
licking the dingy coffee<br />
<br />
colored shingles of your<br />
neighbor's unpowerwashed<br />
roof, but still it IS coffee<br />
<br />
unstirred by spoon, cuillier<br />
or Prévert and it asks<br />
no easy coffee-<br />
<br />
house questions and offers<br />
only the solace of a cup<br />
with a handle. Coffee . . .<br />
<br />
In case you were asking.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-51929910840556764612017-05-09T14:00:00.001-04:002017-05-09T14:00:04.943-04:00Query: Re BloggerI'm back after long absence and have a question for anyone who pays attention (there are only a few). It used to be fairly easy to follow a blog. Now I seem to have to cut and past the URL of the blog I wish to follow into the edit area of a reading list to be able to follow. Is there an easier way?Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-91475996558438108552017-05-09T13:21:00.002-04:002017-05-09T13:22:41.581-04:00Oh you splendid light that shines from within all things,<br />
do not hide from us who look,<br />
perhaps only time to time.<br />
It is true we spend more time<br />
looking at our own feet,<br />
listening to the dog or cat fight,<br />
running away and laughing<br />
like children who have just lit a paper bag on your porch.<br />
<br />
it is good for us that you are a song,<br />
the sun in the morning,<br />
a rainbow, a pair of Sandhill cranes and their young,<br />
the scent of jasmine, magnolia, vanilla, the ocean.<br />
In all things and being all things,<br />
you fly to us at the slightest nod<br />
at the smallest gesture<br />
you invite us to feast.<br />
<br />
And even when<br />
we pay no attention,<br />
You shine out<br />
of all things<br />
and sing the song of longing presence.Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4142267147565207978.post-67727913952520911792017-05-08T12:36:00.000-04:002017-05-08T12:36:55.911-04:00Haiku<div style="border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, Helvetica, Arial, freesans, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Don't look at me,<br style="margin-top: 0px;" />there's nothing here to see--<br />look at Who loves me.</div>
Stevenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15520240994034904255noreply@blogger.com0