I have just added the last poem to the month-long daily compositions that I have been posting all throughout April.
The discipline of writing something every day (well, nearly every day. Some days I didn't, but many days I wrote and posted two) has been good for me.
There may not be daily posts anymore for a while, but I think the challenge of writing something every day may continue. I may be more selective about what I post. Admittedly, many of the poems this month are very rough still, some may not be things I would normally publish. But they are what came to me each day as the month progressed.
The last poem, the one I wrote tonight, is about the TV shows that most excited me as a child. I didn't mention titles, but anyone who is as geeky as I am would recognize Thunderbirds, Gigantor, and Star Trek. All stuff girls weren't "supposed" to like.
Now, I was a terribly girly girl. I had over 100 dolls, a playhouse, toy dishes, Barbies, home made Barbie clothes, frilly dresses, the whole nine yards. I also LOVED spaceships, airplanes, and the idea of a giant robot who could fly and do all kinds of cool things.
My parents were rather schizophrenic in the way they raised me. They kept telling me I was smart AND pretty, and expected me to go to college. I think their real agenda was for me to find a "suitable" husband, but MY objective was to learn as much as I could. About everything. Except maybe math. Math and I don't get along. Never mind that it is very necessary for those cool spaceships and robots that I love. I like playing with words better, so here I am.
The poem about the little dog who waits at the library is one of my favorites. I am also rather fond of my verse about trying to catch sleep. All of the good ones seem to write themselves.
This has been a lot of fun, challenging myself to write something and get it up on the blog every single day. I hope you have enjoyed it.
Sunday, May 1, 2016
Saturday, April 9, 2016
More Bits That Dribble Out Of My Head
I don't know why it is so, but waiting for news in a hospital is horribly exhausting.
The weather is most definitely changing. Every joint in my body that might possibly be arthritic is achy and/or sore to the touch.
The wind out there tonight is roaring and whining, and playing all manner of tunes on our wind chimes. The weather is having quite a jam session...
Making birthday cards seems to take forever. I enjoy it, but I never find a good time to do it, and I feel like I'm shortchanging my friends by not being painstaking enough over it.
Poetry will sneak up on you, smack you over the head, and sometimes reduce you to tears,
all AFTER it has forced you to sit down and write.
Poems you read will also catch you unaware.
That delicious, comforting knowledge
That you aren't the only one
Who feels that way...
After a very out of sorts week last week, this week still feels
wrong and out of order.
The order of the liturgy always puts my mind in order, and helps me focus my thoughts on things spiritual.
I keep thinking about one line from a song written by a local newscaster about the bombing of the Murrah Building. "That's the way with April, warm and then so cold..."
It's true, in many places, but especially here that year. The day it happened was such a beautiful warm Spring morning, and the very next day was cool and cloudy and gloomy.
All these years later, and thoughts of that day can still make me cry. The day I became an Oklahoman. The day that broke so many hearts, but showed a whole community reaching out in love to one another to heal the hurts.
Dog behavior is directly related to the way the owners treat them. You can always tell a happy, well loved dog. He'll be the friendly one. If he's older, he may be a bit cranky, but still. His overall demeanor will be positive.
all AFTER it has forced you to sit down and write.
Poems you read will also catch you unaware.
That delicious, comforting knowledge
That you aren't the only one
Who feels that way...
After a very out of sorts week last week, this week still feels
wrong and out of order.
The order of the liturgy always puts my mind in order, and helps me focus my thoughts on things spiritual.
I keep thinking about one line from a song written by a local newscaster about the bombing of the Murrah Building. "That's the way with April, warm and then so cold..."
It's true, in many places, but especially here that year. The day it happened was such a beautiful warm Spring morning, and the very next day was cool and cloudy and gloomy.
All these years later, and thoughts of that day can still make me cry. The day I became an Oklahoman. The day that broke so many hearts, but showed a whole community reaching out in love to one another to heal the hurts.
Dog behavior is directly related to the way the owners treat them. You can always tell a happy, well loved dog. He'll be the friendly one. If he's older, he may be a bit cranky, but still. His overall demeanor will be positive.
Those trees that produce the winged seeds ought to be outlawed! We have a positive plague of those God-awful seeds this year. They clog up gutters and ruin your downspouts.
Poetry some days just pours out of me. Sometimes (usually) it's pretty much drivel, but sometimes, oh, sometimes, I hit a streak of getting a lot of good poems out one right after the other. It's so odd. I can't control the process, I just have to go with it and see what I get. They usually don't follow any kind of set scheme, they are as random as the mind that generates them.
Toying with the idea of reading at the library's upcoming open mic poetry night. Of course this quote comes to mind : "A poet who will read his verse in public may have other nasty habits. " -Heinlein
The specter of losing my memory plagues me some days. Like this evening, trying to tell a young coworker about the arias I have sung, when suddenly the names, the melodies, the words, just all evaporated. They came back, but it was a struggle. Frightening.
And why should it be so that my mind always waits until nearly midnight to let loose any idea worth toying with? Why is my choice always my sanity or my health?
Poetry some days just pours out of me. Sometimes (usually) it's pretty much drivel, but sometimes, oh, sometimes, I hit a streak of getting a lot of good poems out one right after the other. It's so odd. I can't control the process, I just have to go with it and see what I get. They usually don't follow any kind of set scheme, they are as random as the mind that generates them.
Toying with the idea of reading at the library's upcoming open mic poetry night. Of course this quote comes to mind : "A poet who will read his verse in public may have other nasty habits. " -Heinlein
The specter of losing my memory plagues me some days. Like this evening, trying to tell a young coworker about the arias I have sung, when suddenly the names, the melodies, the words, just all evaporated. They came back, but it was a struggle. Frightening.
And why should it be so that my mind always waits until nearly midnight to let loose any idea worth toying with? Why is my choice always my sanity or my health?
Just spent a few minutes enjoying a visit with a young man who has returned to town after being away for college. I think I enjoy such visits not only because it's good to see our young people come back, but also because some of these young people remind me of the nieces and nephews I almost never get to see.
Friday, April 1, 2016
Watch Out, It's Poetry Month!!
April's Fool
C.K. Armistead 4/1/2016
And I wonder
Sometimes
If I am the only one
Who isn't paying attention
And missing the joke.
Everyone else is laughing,
And I wonder why.
Sometimes
I am afraid they are
Laughing
AT me,
Which I feel bad about,
IF you laugh WITH me,
I don't mind a bit.
My heart isn't exactly
On my sleeve,
But I can still be
Hurt.
Pretty deeply
When you're not looking
I cry all over the
Pages
And rain words
Like tears
Until I feel
Well again.
Sometimes
If I am the only one
Who isn't paying attention
And missing the joke.
Everyone else is laughing,
And I wonder why.
Sometimes
I am afraid they are
Laughing
AT me,
Which I feel bad about,
IF you laugh WITH me,
I don't mind a bit.
My heart isn't exactly
On my sleeve,
But I can still be
Hurt.
Pretty deeply
When you're not looking
I cry all over the
Pages
And rain words
Like tears
Until I feel
Well again.
The Stuff Of Life
C.K. Armistead
4/2/2016
C.K. Armistead
4/2/2016
"Do not squander time,
It is the stuff Life
Is made of"
Or some similar thing
Said the sundial
Shown on
Gone With The Wind
I have always wondered
About that.
Time is such a fickle commodity.
Running fast as Spring storm water
Or as slowly as the proverbial
Molasses.
Slowly, and wearily
Ticking by
When life is hard upon us,
When we are sad,
Or waiting for news
Rushing and roaring
Right past us
When there are things
We need to do,
When we are with the ones
We love and do not
Often get to see.
There never seems to be enough time
To just hug the stuffing out
Of the ones you love so much
That are usually far away
Never enough time
To stop and say
I love you,
I really do.
My life would be SO much less
Without you in it,
Even if you are usually
So far away
Physically.
So, all of you
That I rarely see,
But who mean
So much to me,
(And I hope by now
you all KNOW who you are.)
I love you, I really do
My life would be SO much less
Without you in it.
Really.
Please know that it is true.
It is the stuff Life
Is made of"
Or some similar thing
Said the sundial
Shown on
Gone With The Wind
I have always wondered
About that.
Time is such a fickle commodity.
Running fast as Spring storm water
Or as slowly as the proverbial
Molasses.
Slowly, and wearily
Ticking by
When life is hard upon us,
When we are sad,
Or waiting for news
Rushing and roaring
Right past us
When there are things
We need to do,
When we are with the ones
We love and do not
Often get to see.
There never seems to be enough time
To just hug the stuffing out
Of the ones you love so much
That are usually far away
Never enough time
To stop and say
I love you,
I really do.
My life would be SO much less
Without you in it,
Even if you are usually
So far away
Physically.
So, all of you
That I rarely see,
But who mean
So much to me,
(And I hope by now
you all KNOW who you are.)
I love you, I really do
My life would be SO much less
Without you in it.
Really.
Please know that it is true.
The Thief
C.K.Armistead
4/2/16
C.K.Armistead
4/2/16
Time is a thief
We all know this.
You look up one day
And the face staring back at you
Has wrinkles
And your hair is grey.
You think about things,
And it seems they happened
Only yesterday.
But it's been more
Than 30 years.
You aren't that old yet?
Don't feel too cocky.
Time's stealing your life away, too.
You just haven't noticed yet.
Why all this musing on time today?
Well,
Thirty years ago today
My Pop died.
He's been gone now
Longer than I had him with me in my life.
I was 26 years old.
Already married,
Already not living at home,
But still his Baby Girl.
His Sugar Foot.
Katie Didder.
Only HE got to call me that.
Nobody else better try it.
No matter how much
Of life Time steals away,
That little girl
Who loves her Pop
Is still here.
Still trying
To make him proud.
We all know this.
You look up one day
And the face staring back at you
Has wrinkles
And your hair is grey.
You think about things,
And it seems they happened
Only yesterday.
But it's been more
Than 30 years.
You aren't that old yet?
Don't feel too cocky.
Time's stealing your life away, too.
You just haven't noticed yet.
Why all this musing on time today?
Well,
Thirty years ago today
My Pop died.
He's been gone now
Longer than I had him with me in my life.
I was 26 years old.
Already married,
Already not living at home,
But still his Baby Girl.
His Sugar Foot.
Katie Didder.
Only HE got to call me that.
Nobody else better try it.
No matter how much
Of life Time steals away,
That little girl
Who loves her Pop
Is still here.
Still trying
To make him proud.
Spring
C.K.Armistead
4/3/2016
C.K.Armistead
4/3/2016
Warm inviting sunshine
But the breeze still has an edge
Trees still not quite leafed out
But daffodils blooming under the hedge.
But the breeze still has an edge
Trees still not quite leafed out
But daffodils blooming under the hedge.
Spirit yearning to stretch and grow
Yet flesh resistant to trust
That new, flickering, struggling glow
Afraid to stand and shake off the rust.
Yet flesh resistant to trust
That new, flickering, struggling glow
Afraid to stand and shake off the rust.
A season of such contradiction
Of profuse, expansive bloom
And sudden, freezing contraction
Of hope in the light, but full consciousness of the gloom.
Of profuse, expansive bloom
And sudden, freezing contraction
Of hope in the light, but full consciousness of the gloom.
Lord of Springtime, Lord of love
Strengthen our trembling hearts
That we may show the world your love
And spread peace to all its parts.
Strengthen our trembling hearts
That we may show the world your love
And spread peace to all its parts.
And Do You Know?
C.K. Armistead 4/3/16
C.K. Armistead 4/3/16
We speak so seldom
Hardly seems we could be
Friends.
Yet, I believe we are.
Your smile makes my heart happy
Your adventures are of interest
Even though you are not
Right here
In my everyday life.
So many of you,
Friends and family
Both.
That live in my heart
And always will
Though we don't often
Connect.
And do you know
That you are loved?
I hope you do
Because you are.
And do you know
It matters not
That we aren't close
You are still cared for.
Your presence matters
To me in this world.
Don't forget that
Please.
I've lost one who did forget
Who thought he was all alone
When he was surrounded by
Love.
Please remember
You are loved.
You are.
And do you know how dearly?
Do you?
Hardly seems we could be
Friends.
Yet, I believe we are.
Your smile makes my heart happy
Your adventures are of interest
Even though you are not
Right here
In my everyday life.
So many of you,
Friends and family
Both.
That live in my heart
And always will
Though we don't often
Connect.
And do you know
That you are loved?
I hope you do
Because you are.
And do you know
It matters not
That we aren't close
You are still cared for.
Your presence matters
To me in this world.
Don't forget that
Please.
I've lost one who did forget
Who thought he was all alone
When he was surrounded by
Love.
Please remember
You are loved.
You are.
And do you know how dearly?
Do you?
Planting Dreams
C.K. Armistead
4/4/16
C.K. Armistead
4/4/16
Spring air stirs the soul
Calls me outdoors,
Sets me to dreaming of beautiful
Flowers
Fragrant herbs,
And pleasant shady
Evenings
In the garden
With you.
Calls me outdoors,
Sets me to dreaming of beautiful
Flowers
Fragrant herbs,
And pleasant shady
Evenings
In the garden
With you.
Soil amended
New plants planted,
Prayers said for their
Prosperity.
Achy back and sore knees
Water bill going higher
All for the dream
Of fragrant beauties
Found in this garden
If Nature so pleases.
New plants planted,
Prayers said for their
Prosperity.
Achy back and sore knees
Water bill going higher
All for the dream
Of fragrant beauties
Found in this garden
If Nature so pleases.
Brutus Waiting
C.K.Armistead
4/5/16
He sits by Daddy's chair
Ears up
Listening,
Bright eyes watching.
He's always up to make a new friend,
But his eyes
Are watching
For Mama.
He's well behaved,
Quite polite,
Greeting all who greet him,
Never pestering those that don't
He always seems a happy boy
But oh, when Mama comes out,
You've never seen such joy!
If he could, he'd twist and shout
A Good Night For Sleeping
By C.K.Armistead
4/5/16
"It's so windy,
It's a good night for sleeping."
My Pop used to say.
I used to think he was nuts.
All I could hear
Was the old tree outside (and above)
My bedroom creaking, groaning,
And moaning like Marley's ghost
Thought it was coming for me
For sure.
But Pop loved the wild song of the wind
Loved the whispers of the places
It had been
The power in that invisible
Breeze
That could bend and even buckle
Mighty trees.
Even now,
When the wind is especially high,
I remember Pop
And his anticipation
Of being sung to sleep
By the song
Of the wind.
A Good Night For Sleeping
By C.K.Armistead
4/5/16
"It's so windy,
It's a good night for sleeping."
My Pop used to say.
I used to think he was nuts.
All I could hear
Was the old tree outside (and above)
My bedroom creaking, groaning,
And moaning like Marley's ghost
Thought it was coming for me
For sure.
But Pop loved the wild song of the wind
Loved the whispers of the places
It had been
The power in that invisible
Breeze
That could bend and even buckle
Mighty trees.
Even now,
When the wind is especially high,
I remember Pop
And his anticipation
Of being sung to sleep
By the song
Of the wind.
Awake
By C.K. Armistead
4/6/16
To wake up
To move, stretch,
Feel with your body
That your mind
Has come online again.
My body often resists,
Telling my brain
To shut up,
I need more time.
Perhaps, rather, it is
My mind
That seeks to stay
In the carefree realm
Of slumber,
Where no demands are made,
And no responses expected.
To be awake, aware of the world
Around us
Implies a responsibility
To interact with that world.
There are things We must do,
Responses we must make
If we are to function properly
In the world
Both for our own comfort,
And that of others.
If we seek to remain
Asleep,
We don't fulfill our side
Of the bargain with
Society
That allows us all to live
With at least some degree
Of peace.
We must, therefore,
Be awake and aware,
And do our share
Of the work
Of civilization.
So that the agents of
Chaos
Are not allowed
To destroy those
Who cannot defend
Themselves
Those who need their rest
And trust the rest of us
To watch over the safety
Of their sleep.
The Cyclical Nature Of Time
C.K. Armistead 4/7/16
Birth.
Life.
Death.
Waking,
Doing,
Sleeping.
Childhood,
Adulthood,
Old age.
We begin with little
But potential
Add knowledge
And experience
Every day.
End up full
Of emotions
And knowledge
But out of time
To share them
The trick is
To make the most
Of the middle
Life
Doing
Adulthood
The time to collect knowledge
And experiences,
But also to share them
So that old age
May be spent
Relishing them.
And all those
Who we met
Along the way.
C.K. Armistead 4/7/16
Birth.
Life.
Death.
Waking,
Doing,
Sleeping.
Childhood,
Adulthood,
Old age.
We begin with little
But potential
Add knowledge
And experience
Every day.
End up full
Of emotions
And knowledge
But out of time
To share them
The trick is
To make the most
Of the middle
Life
Doing
Adulthood
The time to collect knowledge
And experiences,
But also to share them
So that old age
May be spent
Relishing them.
And all those
Who we met
Along the way.
Peaceful Place
By C. K. Armistead
4/8/ 16
There is an astonishing
Amount of peace
To be found in one's own
Garden.
Never mind the awful amount
Of work involved in establishing
And maintaining it
The blooms
And the birdsong
Bring such balm
As offsets all the toil.
A "Good" Tired
By C.K.Armistead
4/9/16
Achy,
But not sore.
Weary,
But capable of more.
Awake,
But not wired.
Satisfied -
It's a good tired.
Goals set
And accomplished
Challenges met
Feeling astonished
That the race is done,
Our tasks are complete
We have won
We rest replete.
Dark Is His Path
By C.K.Armistead
April 11, 2016
When the sky
Turns ugly
And the wind whispers
Of threats coming
I turn my eyes
To the horizon,
And see the storm
Approaching.
I remember then
A line from an old hymn
"And dark is his path
On the wings of the storm."
About God's nearness
Even in turbulent times.
Still
It seems he does have
A very rugged and dark
Path
To come to save us
Along the flanks
Of that boiling,
Dark,
Flashing,
Howling
Storm.
A "Good" Tired
By C.K.Armistead
4/9/16
Achy,
But not sore.
Weary,
But capable of more.
Awake,
But not wired.
Satisfied -
It's a good tired.
Goals set
And accomplished
Challenges met
Feeling astonished
That the race is done,
Our tasks are complete
We have won
We rest replete.
Dark Is His Path
By C.K.Armistead
April 11, 2016
When the sky
Turns ugly
And the wind whispers
Of threats coming
I turn my eyes
To the horizon,
And see the storm
Approaching.
I remember then
A line from an old hymn
"And dark is his path
On the wings of the storm."
About God's nearness
Even in turbulent times.
Still
It seems he does have
A very rugged and dark
Path
To come to save us
Along the flanks
Of that boiling,
Dark,
Flashing,
Howling
Storm.
Hurry And Worry
C.K. Armistead 4/12/16
The phone rings incessantly.
On more than one line.
No sooner dealt with,
And it rings again.
Time I do not have,
For I am due
At the service desk
Where a line of customers wait.
All afternoon,
One question after another,
One smile after another.
Often they come with worry,
And because of information we have,
They leave with a smile.
There have been enough of those today
To make the hurry worthwhile.
Writing
C.K.Armistead 4/13/1
When staring at a blank page
It seems time drags like the last ice age
When ideas finally pop
You write so fast your hand will drop
Lifeless into your lap
Before you run out of creative sap.
If you try to force the muse
She will pout and flatly refuse
No words will flow, none will fit
What you produce will sound like, well, Sh*t.
When at last the muse agrees,
Writing will become a breeze
Images and words will show it
You are and always have been a poet.
I suppose these next lines count as a poem. I wrote them today in honor of a friend's birthday:
To my friend Ron:
I can't make collages or do video
Words are the only art I know
So from my heart I will say
I wish you a very happy Birthday
Perhaps I should rather say
Greetings and felicitations on your natal day!
Is That Me?
By C.K. Armistead
4/14/16
Sometimes the mirror
Startles me.
Who is that lady?
The one with grey hair
But a cute haircut,
And who is in better shape
Than I thought I was.
Is that me?
Really?
Because I feel
Clumsy and big
Even though I am
But little.
I feel like the awkward teen
Who wrote angst filled verse
And dreamed of making
A splash in the world
But was afraid
Of her own words.
Who is that confident
Woman
Looking back at me?
For The Birds
C.K.Armistead
4/14/16
Dear Starling in the pecan tree
Bleeping and clicking like
An electronic device at me
Please be so kind as to take a hike.
Your incessant noise is most unpleasant
And the St. Francis statue below you
Doesn't look good wearing your excrement
Kindly find another loo!
Dear Blue Jay creaking on the fence
I know you only want a bath, you see
Please know that I won't take offense
If you make use of our birdbath facility.
I only ask that you take care
And don't fling the water everywhere
I'm not sitting that far away,
And I must look presentable at work today.
Dear Mocking bird scolding the squirrel
Please realize that he doesn't care.
You can scold and dive and whirl
And he'll just stop and blankly stare.
Please take your loud shenanigans
Away, I fiercely plead
For I have to begin all over again
This page I've been trying to read.
Dear Robin singing from on high
You alone are welcome here
Your song so lovely makes me sigh
It is a pleasure to my ear
If those others would so pardon
Us, and be on their merry way
Joining the pigeon squadron
Off to find the next full feeder of the day.
Dear Sparrows flitting everywhere,
You may stay as well, I guess.
Your merry play without care
Eases much of my stress.
Though most of you can be a pain,
The yard would be lonely without you
So please, come back and visit again
But don't use St. Francis for a loo!
Come With Me!
C.K.Armistead
4/15/16
Come with me!
Look!
See?
It's all here in a
Book.
Adventures galore
Trips to a faraway shore
Rich and satisfying lore
Will leave you begging for more
Just one more
Story.
Please?
I'll go right to sleep,
I promise,
Just one more story
Too help me keep
My dreams alive tonight?
Please?
Listen...
Once upon a time
In a kingdom bright
A little dragon
Wouldn't say goodnight
He began to weep...
Because he didn't
Want to go
To sleep.
Sleep, little dragon
Don't you know?
All of us will watch
Over you
And wait for tomorrow
To hear your stories anew.
Away with sorrow,
Away with fear,
Sleep, little dragon,
You have friends here.
Writing
C.K.Armistead 4/13/1
When staring at a blank page
It seems time drags like the last ice age
When ideas finally pop
You write so fast your hand will drop
Lifeless into your lap
Before you run out of creative sap.
If you try to force the muse
She will pout and flatly refuse
No words will flow, none will fit
What you produce will sound like, well, Sh*t.
When at last the muse agrees,
Writing will become a breeze
Images and words will show it
You are and always have been a poet.
I suppose these next lines count as a poem. I wrote them today in honor of a friend's birthday:
To my friend Ron:
I can't make collages or do video
Words are the only art I know
So from my heart I will say
I wish you a very happy Birthday
Perhaps I should rather say
Greetings and felicitations on your natal day!
Is That Me?
By C.K. Armistead
4/14/16
Sometimes the mirror
Startles me.
Who is that lady?
The one with grey hair
But a cute haircut,
And who is in better shape
Than I thought I was.
Is that me?
Really?
Because I feel
Clumsy and big
Even though I am
But little.
I feel like the awkward teen
Who wrote angst filled verse
And dreamed of making
A splash in the world
But was afraid
Of her own words.
Who is that confident
Woman
Looking back at me?
For The Birds
C.K.Armistead
4/14/16
Dear Starling in the pecan tree
Bleeping and clicking like
An electronic device at me
Please be so kind as to take a hike.
Your incessant noise is most unpleasant
And the St. Francis statue below you
Doesn't look good wearing your excrement
Kindly find another loo!
Dear Blue Jay creaking on the fence
I know you only want a bath, you see
Please know that I won't take offense
If you make use of our birdbath facility.
I only ask that you take care
And don't fling the water everywhere
I'm not sitting that far away,
And I must look presentable at work today.
Dear Mocking bird scolding the squirrel
Please realize that he doesn't care.
You can scold and dive and whirl
And he'll just stop and blankly stare.
Please take your loud shenanigans
Away, I fiercely plead
For I have to begin all over again
This page I've been trying to read.
Dear Robin singing from on high
You alone are welcome here
Your song so lovely makes me sigh
It is a pleasure to my ear
If those others would so pardon
Us, and be on their merry way
Joining the pigeon squadron
Off to find the next full feeder of the day.
Dear Sparrows flitting everywhere,
You may stay as well, I guess.
Your merry play without care
Eases much of my stress.
Though most of you can be a pain,
The yard would be lonely without you
So please, come back and visit again
But don't use St. Francis for a loo!
Come With Me!
C.K.Armistead
4/15/16
Come with me!
Look!
See?
It's all here in a
Book.
Adventures galore
Trips to a faraway shore
Rich and satisfying lore
Will leave you begging for more
Just one more
Story.
Please?
I'll go right to sleep,
I promise,
Just one more story
Too help me keep
My dreams alive tonight?
Please?
Listen...
Once upon a time
In a kingdom bright
A little dragon
Wouldn't say goodnight
He began to weep...
Because he didn't
Want to go
To sleep.
Sleep, little dragon
Don't you know?
All of us will watch
Over you
And wait for tomorrow
To hear your stories anew.
Away with sorrow,
Away with fear,
Sleep, little dragon,
You have friends here.
Symmetry
By C.K.Armistead
4/17/16
Symmetry is supposed to be
Attractive to the human mind
But it is evident to me
That my face is not
The symmetrical kind
My left eye is at a tiny bit
Of an angle
My dimples seem to sit
In something of a tangle.
It makes my smile quirk
With a twinkling sort of grace
And so it seems to work
For my particular face.
Spring Rain
By C.K. Armistead
4/18/16
And the rain came
And the waters rose
I feared for the safety
Of the new plants
Those not yet anchored
In the newly placed soil.
But they seem fine
Growing and prospering
In spite of the rain.
Perhaps because of it.
Just as we dread the dreary
Stormy times
Fearing for the safety
Of our tenuous connection
To this life
Yet they seem to bring
Deep nourishment
To our souls
Helping us flourish
In the end.
Remembrance
C.K.Armistead
4/20/16
Every year
April 19th brings
The sounds, the sights,
The feelings
Back.
The shock
The hurt
The tears.
Even now, sometimes
I see the ruin
Of that building
In my mind
And I remember
Families torn apart,
Our community's heart broken.
The day brings back
So much sadness
Those injured,
Those lost
Especially the children
Who never had a
Chance to grow up.
It also brought gifts
The gift of love
In the face of hatred
The gift of courage
In the face of terror,
The gift of healing
In the midst of broken hearts.
That day showed us all
Both how awful humans can be
And also how marvelous,
How loving and sacrificing
Humans can be.
That day taught me
That I, too, was now
An Oklahoman.
(In honor of the 21st anniversary of the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in downtown OKC.)
A Very Special Gift
By C.K.Armistead
4/20/16
Perhaps the best gift
To come all unexpected from
That sorrowful April day
Is the musical gift
We have found
Since becoming a part
Of the choir.
In truth and in symbol
The harmonies
We partake in
Are a gift of fellowship
And worship
A wonderful unity
Found in that blend
Our individual voices
Into one.
Every week since
That awful day
We have been safe
In the midst of that
Harmony
In the midst of our family
Of faith.
Which if not for tragedy
We might never
Have truly found.
Music is both worship
And prayer
Giving blessing
To both listeners
And singers.
A beautiful expression
Of our love for God
And one another.
2016
By C.K. Armistead
4/22/16
I sit and stare at the screen
Sadness everywhere, it would seem.
So much loss, I want to scream
I truly wonder what it all means.
Once upon a time, Don McLean
Sang about the Day the Music Died
This year, to me, it seems,
Is the YEAR the artists died.
So many sad losses, one after another,
And on a personal note, we lost my mother.
Is there a plot out there to smother
Creativity? Big Brother?
We will survive this year, I hope
Without losing anyone else so dear,
I don't know if I could cope
And despair is what I fear.
The Payoff
By C.K.Armistead
4/23/16
Now all the hard work
Of mowing and weeding
Is done.
We can relax
And maybe have
A little fun.
Sitting with a drink in hand
Surveying the beauty
Our efforts command.
Beware
By C.K.Armistead
4/25/16
The clouds are massing
To the Southwest
The teams are out tracking
The weather's brewing a mess.
Let us pray with all our might
That the Tornado monsters
Pass us by tonight.
With the ice balls they fling
And their terrible teeth
They destroy everything
That falls beneath.
This is one little town
That's had more than it's share
Of toothy tornadoes
And ice-ball filled air.
We've seen this misery all before
So tornadoes, just take yourselves
Right away from Moore.
Muses
By C.K.Armistead
4/25/16
Whimsical and inconsistent,
Oh, wordy spirits,
Hear my complaint!
You lead me on
Keep me awake all night,
Only to vanish
When I need you,
When I have time to write.
All night I hear poems,
Or clever dialog,
Interesting plot diversions,
But by morning, they are gone.
Trying to write them down at night
Is worse than trying to catch a sprite.
Whenever paper, pencil or screen are close by
Those beautiful words and images fly.
And will not return until once more
I lie trying to sleep and listening
To my husband snore.
Calm Restored
By C.K. Armistead
4/26/16
The noisy meteorological show
Has finished it's bluster,
Gone somewhere else to rumble and blow.
And I have my tidy world again
Where all is well and safe
Where nothing can harm
Or scare me
My happy place.
For you are here,
Your arms enfold me
There is no fear
When you hold me.
Happy Birthday, Mom
By C.K.Armistead
4/27/16
You aren't here anymore
Where I can send you things
Or call you up and say
I hope your day was wonderful
And I love you.
So,
Happy Birthday, Mom,
I miss you.
I survived another round of
Bad weather last night
Matt's doing well,
He sends his love.
I got to spend time with
Amy and her little girl
The last time I was
Back in California.
They are both well,
And Amy's husband
Is a good man.
I went out there
To say goodbye to you
And to see where you and Pop
Are remembered formally
Upon this earth.
The place looks nice, all the trees
Are bigger, LOTS bigger than when
We said goodbye to Pop.
Not so easy to see downtown
From there anymore.
But the wind whispers stories
Through those trees,
And I bet Pop would love the place.
Mostly,
You are both remembered and loved
In our hearts,
All four of us,
and anyone else who ever knew you.
I miss you both,
And I hope you are together,
Because someday,
I want to see you both again.
And I hope you'll be proud of me
Of all I am,
Of all I have done,
Even though it isn't for wealth or fame,
I have made lives better.
I DO make lives better,
One little bit at a time,
Every day,
Every time I go to work.
Sometimes in a very quiet way,
A lot like you did.
I learned a lot about
How to be kind
From you.
I really miss you, Mommy-Mo.
Sleep
By C.K. Armistead
4/28/16
Thou elusive sprite,
I'll catch thee yet!
My eyes shut tight,
The bedclothes my net.
Even though you do scorn
My company,
Long afore morn,
Mine ye shall be!
Leave off the aches that plague
Leave off the sniffling nose
I must fatigue assuage,
Before sanity goes.
Quiet, thou clacking brain,
And peace, ye racing thoughts,
Let peaceful calm remain
And let sweet sleep be caught.
Escape
By C. K. Armistead
4/29/16
When reality is just a bit too much
I find a better place to look
For comfort, distraction, and such
I simply sit and read a book.
Doesn't have to be the paper kind,
Even though those are very nice
If it's electronic, I don't mind,
As long as there's power for the device.
Sometimes, I find myself dreaming
And making up my own tales
Instead of just reading,
Against harsh reality, writing prevails.
I crawl into my cozy world
And visit with old friends
Until my ennui is cured
And I can face life once again.
Seeking Sanctuary
(A poem based on Beauty and the Beast 1987)
By C.K. Armistead
4/26/16, edited 4/29/16
Catherine's thoughts one stormy night:
Old Friends
By C.K.Armistead
4/30/16
I stumbled across an old friend today
An old TV show I used to love
When I was very young
And full of dreams.
This show, I should say,
Is not something girls are "supposed"
To have liked
In that era, when I was young.
It involved rockets and space ships
And rescues
And I am sure far more boys watched it.
But I adored it.
Never did I feel I could not
Be one of the daring crew
That went out and saved
People in need.
Not that I WANTED to,
But I felt I could have.
I just adored the machines
And the things they could do.
These old friends reminded me
Of a couple of other
Favorites.
One that I never let go of
And another I had almost forgotten.
One was a giant robot
Controlled by a young boy
The other was the crew of a Starship
Whose adventures I've followed
Forever after.
Because they made me dream
Gave me hope
Made me wonder how
We could get to a world
That much better than this one.
Yep. I was a geeky fangirl
LONG before it was cool.
2016
By C.K. Armistead
4/22/16
I sit and stare at the screen
Sadness everywhere, it would seem.
So much loss, I want to scream
I truly wonder what it all means.
Once upon a time, Don McLean
Sang about the Day the Music Died
This year, to me, it seems,
Is the YEAR the artists died.
So many sad losses, one after another,
And on a personal note, we lost my mother.
Is there a plot out there to smother
Creativity? Big Brother?
We will survive this year, I hope
Without losing anyone else so dear,
I don't know if I could cope
And despair is what I fear.
The Payoff
By C.K.Armistead
4/23/16
Now all the hard work
Of mowing and weeding
Is done.
We can relax
And maybe have
A little fun.
Sitting with a drink in hand
Surveying the beauty
Our efforts command.
Beware
By C.K.Armistead
4/25/16
The clouds are massing
To the Southwest
The teams are out tracking
The weather's brewing a mess.
Let us pray with all our might
That the Tornado monsters
Pass us by tonight.
With the ice balls they fling
And their terrible teeth
They destroy everything
That falls beneath.
This is one little town
That's had more than it's share
Of toothy tornadoes
And ice-ball filled air.
We've seen this misery all before
So tornadoes, just take yourselves
Right away from Moore.
Muses
By C.K.Armistead
4/25/16
Whimsical and inconsistent,
Oh, wordy spirits,
Hear my complaint!
You lead me on
Keep me awake all night,
Only to vanish
When I need you,
When I have time to write.
All night I hear poems,
Or clever dialog,
Interesting plot diversions,
But by morning, they are gone.
Trying to write them down at night
Is worse than trying to catch a sprite.
Whenever paper, pencil or screen are close by
Those beautiful words and images fly.
And will not return until once more
I lie trying to sleep and listening
To my husband snore.
Calm Restored
By C.K. Armistead
4/26/16
The noisy meteorological show
Has finished it's bluster,
Gone somewhere else to rumble and blow.
And I have my tidy world again
Where all is well and safe
Where nothing can harm
Or scare me
My happy place.
For you are here,
Your arms enfold me
There is no fear
When you hold me.
Happy Birthday, Mom
By C.K.Armistead
4/27/16
You aren't here anymore
Where I can send you things
Or call you up and say
I hope your day was wonderful
And I love you.
So,
Happy Birthday, Mom,
I miss you.
I survived another round of
Bad weather last night
Matt's doing well,
He sends his love.
I got to spend time with
Amy and her little girl
The last time I was
Back in California.
They are both well,
And Amy's husband
Is a good man.
I went out there
To say goodbye to you
And to see where you and Pop
Are remembered formally
Upon this earth.
The place looks nice, all the trees
Are bigger, LOTS bigger than when
We said goodbye to Pop.
Not so easy to see downtown
From there anymore.
But the wind whispers stories
Through those trees,
And I bet Pop would love the place.
Mostly,
You are both remembered and loved
In our hearts,
All four of us,
and anyone else who ever knew you.
I miss you both,
And I hope you are together,
Because someday,
I want to see you both again.
And I hope you'll be proud of me
Of all I am,
Of all I have done,
Even though it isn't for wealth or fame,
I have made lives better.
I DO make lives better,
One little bit at a time,
Every day,
Every time I go to work.
Sometimes in a very quiet way,
A lot like you did.
I learned a lot about
How to be kind
From you.
I really miss you, Mommy-Mo.
Sleep
By C.K. Armistead
4/28/16
Thou elusive sprite,
I'll catch thee yet!
My eyes shut tight,
The bedclothes my net.
Even though you do scorn
My company,
Long afore morn,
Mine ye shall be!
Leave off the aches that plague
Leave off the sniffling nose
I must fatigue assuage,
Before sanity goes.
Quiet, thou clacking brain,
And peace, ye racing thoughts,
Let peaceful calm remain
And let sweet sleep be caught.
Escape
By C. K. Armistead
4/29/16
When reality is just a bit too much
I find a better place to look
For comfort, distraction, and such
I simply sit and read a book.
Doesn't have to be the paper kind,
Even though those are very nice
If it's electronic, I don't mind,
As long as there's power for the device.
Sometimes, I find myself dreaming
And making up my own tales
Instead of just reading,
Against harsh reality, writing prevails.
I crawl into my cozy world
And visit with old friends
Until my ennui is cured
And I can face life once again.
Seeking Sanctuary
(A poem based on Beauty and the Beast 1987)
By C.K. Armistead
4/26/16, edited 4/29/16
Catherine's thoughts one stormy night:
How I wish I could go Below tonight.
The wind is high,
The clouds are ripe,
There's going to be
A storm up here.
I wish I could be
Where candle flame
Glows cheerily
And everyone knows my name.
I wish I could go there
To my safest place where
I'll come to no harm
When I see his face
And rest in the safety
Of his arms.
Old Friends
By C.K.Armistead
4/30/16
I stumbled across an old friend today
An old TV show I used to love
When I was very young
And full of dreams.
This show, I should say,
Is not something girls are "supposed"
To have liked
In that era, when I was young.
It involved rockets and space ships
And rescues
And I am sure far more boys watched it.
But I adored it.
Never did I feel I could not
Be one of the daring crew
That went out and saved
People in need.
Not that I WANTED to,
But I felt I could have.
I just adored the machines
And the things they could do.
These old friends reminded me
Of a couple of other
Favorites.
One that I never let go of
And another I had almost forgotten.
One was a giant robot
Controlled by a young boy
The other was the crew of a Starship
Whose adventures I've followed
Forever after.
Because they made me dream
Gave me hope
Made me wonder how
We could get to a world
That much better than this one.
Yep. I was a geeky fangirl
LONG before it was cool.
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Life Is What Happens. ..
...When you are making other plans. It would seem life has decided that my neatly ordered life needed an upset. Matt and I are sitting in the emergency room waiting to find out why he is so bloated and in pain. We are afraid of the possibilities. Some could be quite dire. Or, it could be something as simple as needing to change some of his medications, or it could just be a virus after all, though it doesn't behave like a virus.
Waiting is not my favorite activity. It leaves me very tired and very tense at the same time. There are things I am supposed to be doing, places I am supposed to be tomorrow, and I wonder if I will have the chance. I also desperately need to sleep, but how can I? There are too many scenarios, most of them awful, playing out in my head.
Waiting is not my favorite activity. It leaves me very tired and very tense at the same time. There are things I am supposed to be doing, places I am supposed to be tomorrow, and I wonder if I will have the chance. I also desperately need to sleep, but how can I? There are too many scenarios, most of them awful, playing out in my head.
3/26/16
We have since learned that it was his appendix, and he had surgery on the 23rd to remove it. We have been waiting for signs since that his digestion is getting back in gear, but until this morning, nothing much on that front. At least there has been some movement, if slow. It worries me that he has acid reflux all the sudden, when he hasn't had any for YEARS. I am guessing that this surgery has just thrown off his whole balance, as his blood sugar appears to be resisting settling back into its normal groove.
3/26/16
It would also seem that this bluetooth keyboard of Matt's that I borrowed despises me, for it just deleted a whole post that I was almost finished with. This angers me greatly. I am, however, in a hospital room with a tired, uncomforable spouse, so I do not dare call Blogger and this keyboard all the awful names I would like to call them. (Raggedy raunchy, corn-swozzlin' SHMURD! - to borrow from the Rick O'Shay comic of years ago...)
At any rate, the gist of it is that I have not done a whole lot of writing before this because the hospital is such an environment that numbs the mind. Time ceases to have real meaning, and yet the realities of birth and death are very much with us. All the news of celebrity deaths is not helping. One begins to feel that this is the year we ALL die. (If I don't get up out of this awful chair soon, my butt will be dead, for sure!)
I went home early last night so I could get some housework done and get a walk in. I did both, the house is sparkling, and I got in a mile and a half before dark. (Cleaned house after.) I got the sheets on the bed changed this morning, and the dirty ones into the washer. (On the Sanitize cycle, just in case). The rest of the laundry is in the laundry room, ready to sort.
Here I had written a lot of very lovely stuff about Holy Week, and I don't have the foggiest notion what it was except the notes in my notebook which I started from. I guess I shall have to start again.
Here is what I wrote down a couple of days ago:
3/24/16
It is Holy Week, and as Mother Susan reminded us when she came to visit Matt and pray with us, we are walking through our own trial this week. Yet how can we forget, even in the midst of our own difficulties, the great suffering endured because of our wayward nature? The suffering caused to humans by their fellow humans all over the world is a cause for our grief and our shame.
That Jesus saw and well knew what humankind was capable of, yet chose to be a sacrifice for us is still stunning.
Such stunning love, persistent in the face of rejection, ridicule, scorn, and attempted extermination is what Christians are saved by, and what we are supposed to emulate. Most of us fall woefully short. We react with fear, anger, and loathing toward those who appear on the outside to be different from us, but really are just human, just like us. We do not often remember the two great commandments. ONE: Love the Lord your God with your whole being, and TWO: Love your neighbor as yourself.
I really do kinda wonder if the problem some of the loudest hate-spewers out there have is that they really hate themselves. Deep down, do they see themselves as horrible, worthless creatures, and therefore despise anyone who might actually have redeeming qualities? Is that the problem?
They are ignoring the first commandment if they do. If you love God with all that you are, you will recognize how loved you are in return, and you will want to share that love, and when you do, it multiplies and spreads and eddys around and comes right back at ya with interest.
The flipside is, hate rebounds on you, too, and not in a good way. It eats all your joy, corrodes your soul, and leaves you alone and bitter in the dark.
Hatred does not solve any problems. It only makes existing ones worse, and causes even more.
3/26/16
3/24/16
It is Holy Week, and as Mother Susan reminded us when she came to visit Matt and pray with us, we are walking through our own trial this week. Yet how can we forget, even in the midst of our own difficulties, the great suffering endured because of our wayward nature? The suffering caused to humans by their fellow humans all over the world is a cause for our grief and our shame.
That Jesus saw and well knew what humankind was capable of, yet chose to be a sacrifice for us is still stunning.
Such stunning love, persistent in the face of rejection, ridicule, scorn, and attempted extermination is what Christians are saved by, and what we are supposed to emulate. Most of us fall woefully short. We react with fear, anger, and loathing toward those who appear on the outside to be different from us, but really are just human, just like us. We do not often remember the two great commandments. ONE: Love the Lord your God with your whole being, and TWO: Love your neighbor as yourself.
I really do kinda wonder if the problem some of the loudest hate-spewers out there have is that they really hate themselves. Deep down, do they see themselves as horrible, worthless creatures, and therefore despise anyone who might actually have redeeming qualities? Is that the problem?
They are ignoring the first commandment if they do. If you love God with all that you are, you will recognize how loved you are in return, and you will want to share that love, and when you do, it multiplies and spreads and eddys around and comes right back at ya with interest.
The flipside is, hate rebounds on you, too, and not in a good way. It eats all your joy, corrodes your soul, and leaves you alone and bitter in the dark.
Hatred does not solve any problems. It only makes existing ones worse, and causes even more.
3/26/16
Today is Holy Saturday. Tonight there will be a VERY long service in every church with a liturgical tradition. Confirmations, baptisms, reaffirmations of faith, all sorts of celebrations of new life in Christ will happen. Our service is rather a busy one because we are the Cathedral parish, and people from all over the diocese come to us on Holy Saturday, because that is where the Bishop will be. Our choir does not normally sing this service, the nine o'clock Parish Choir does it, so I would not normally be there anyway. I have already missed Good Friday, and will likely miss Easter as well. Difficult to be away from our St. Paul's family, especially on special days. The rhythm of the church year marks our own journey. At least for me, the different seasons of the church year, marking the events in Jesus' journey, also serve as touch points for my own journey, reminding me of purpose and progress as we go. This week has been a walk in darkness for the most part. Not knowing if what was found is the total cause of Matt's health problems, not seeing very swift recovery, and wondering what that means for the future. Yet even on this day, a day when Christians go through with the first disciples, a time of separation, of a sense of loss of God's presence, God hears and answers prayer. We have received encouraging news, even when fearing we would not. Not the great rejoicing of Easter, but still not being ignored and unanswered. Tomorrow is the day of joy, when morning dawns bright, and we are told without doubt that we are NOT alone, NOT without hope. We pray for our own Easter joy, our own sense of release from this shrouded time of gloom.
O love beyond apprehension
That encompasses all
And reaches past
Our doubt
Be real for us in our
Hour of need.
Thou that gave all there is
For those who would not see
Grant us the vision
Of your nearness
Grant us the light
Of Easter joy.
That encompasses all
And reaches past
Our doubt
Be real for us in our
Hour of need.
Thou that gave all there is
For those who would not see
Grant us the vision
Of your nearness
Grant us the light
Of Easter joy.
That is about all I have right now. I really need to get out of this chair, and maybe even out of this room. Matt is dozing off and on, but may ask to be back in his chair, all depends on how things go. I am so weary of no answers and so little progress, but I am grateful for the positive progress we have had.
Saturday, March 19, 2016
Saturday Snippets
Time to post my rambles for the week. Not a lot of serious writing has gone on. There has been a bit of a dark mood hanging around, making me seek solace in reading and ignoring the outside world whenever possible.
Today has been laundry, walking, errands, dishes, and dinner at Falcone's! (At least dinner was fabulous!!)
Here are my daily bits, to be followed by a list of the most recent music list additions.
3/13/16
Not much to say
On such a day
It's not even April
And the Mayflies
Are out.
3/14//16
Pi day.
We had beef pot pie
Home made
With leftover stew as filling.
Good.
All the trees and flowers
Have long since decided
That it is Spring.
Today has been laundry, walking, errands, dishes, and dinner at Falcone's! (At least dinner was fabulous!!)
Here are my daily bits, to be followed by a list of the most recent music list additions.
3/13/16
Not much to say
On such a day
It's not even April
And the Mayflies
Are out.
3/14//16
Pi day.
We had beef pot pie
Home made
With leftover stew as filling.
Good.
All the trees and flowers
Have long since decided
That it is Spring.
Lots of daffodils blooming,
Trees blooming, a few even
Starting to sport leaves.
Nature has hope,
No matter what the rest of us seem to feel.
3/18/6
So neglectful of my promise,
But some days,
I just CANNOT write.
No time
No energy
No inspiration.
3/19/16
I think I am making up now for the days in my teens and early 20s when I either could not afford, or just couldn't find "cute" bras that would fit me.
Being a "normal" or even somewhat small band size, but requiring a large cup size means that your bras are expensive, even if they aren't very sexy, or very "cute".
My first ones even, were very utilitarian, with underwires and stiff stays in the sides. Sears had the unmitigated gall to call them the "Ahh Bra". HA!!! I have ridges in my shoulders and my ribcage because of those things!
I still need an underwire, but technology has improved greatly since 1974, and I don't notice them anymore.
I also got myself professionally measured again, because age changes things, and I found that while the band size is the same, the cup size is larger. This means an even smaller selection of possible foundation garments, and until my husband did some research and found Panache Sport, no sports bras the right size, either.
Now I have wonderful sports bras that actually fit, support, and are comfortable, but Panache makes an entire line of absolutely beautiful bras and other lingerie. (Swimsuits, too!)
I now have a collection of bras that are actually cute.
Matt appreciates them, but I don't wear them for him. I wear them and enjoy them for the way they make me feel. Wearing any of these, I am comfortable, yes, but I also feel beautiful, confident, and special. Support for my body AND my spirit!
Housework and laundry never end. A lot like in-house checkin and book drops at the library. Maybe that's one reason so many of us who toil in libraries are female - we crave order, and we are used to the unending process that creates it.
Speaking of the housework, I just heard the dryer beep. Time to go fold and put away my workout clothes.
All right, my clothes are all folded and put away, and I've made myself a margarita, because it's Saturday night, and #KatieMargarita wanted a drink!
Here are the albums I have added since the last time I did a music update:
And Winter Came by Enya
Dark Sky Island by Enya
Guess I got nostalgic for some Enya music, and I wanted new stuff.
Emoji Antique by Postmodern Jukebox
Old fashioned covers of new songs. Some are much better than the originals.
Top Hat on Fleek by Postmodern Jukebox.
Yet more vintage remakes of current hits.
I got on a real nostalgia kick, and ordered the complete movie soundtrack edition. Keeps me hoppin' when I'm working out. (Also, unfortunately reminds me that I am NOT 17 anymore...)
Best of Bowie - When David Bowie passed, I realized that the only album of his I ever owned was a vinyl that had long since gone. So, I found this and now I can have his music whenever I need it once again.
David Bowie's last album. Has some good moments, but I find the older hits more comforting.
Elton John - Rocket Man- The Definitive Hits A great trip back in time for me, I've been a fan of Elton's since 1972.
Wonderful Crazy Night by Elton John- A good album. I like Blue Wonderful a lot, it reminds me of some of his earlier things. I have just always liked Elton , the way he sings, and the way he and Bernie Taupin always told the best stories in song.
Frank Sinatra A Voice On Air This is a treasure trove of history as well as classic Sinatra performances. These recordings of radio broadcasts can really take you back in time, especially the ones made during the war.
And now for something COMPLETELY different:
I heard about this next group on NPR, where they were described as being Klesmer meets Middle Eastern folk music, meets funk, meets jazz -- They really are indescribable.
These are the only two of their albums I bought. They are very unusual, interesting, and sound more like spy movie background music in some cases than ordinary music you would listen to, but I do enjoy them, their originality is refreshing.
Well, that's this weeks updates.
Hope you had a good week, and I hope next week is a good one, too. For some of us, it is Holy Week, which means a lot of church time, and for choir members, a lot of singing. Thankfully, our choir only has Good Friday and one Easter Sunday service this year. Not a lot of extra work for us.
Saturday, March 12, 2016
Fear and Loathing, Or Politics In America Today
I despise our political process in this country. It has devolved into some sort of contest to see who is the biggest bully or the glibbest liar.
That said, I wade through stories and statements and reports, and try to make intelligent decisions when it seems most of my fellow citizens either do "eeny, meeny, miney mo" or vote for the one who has gotten the most publicity, or in some cases, for whomever their pastor has instructed them to vote for.
This year, I have decided that NONE of the Republican possibilities are qualified to be President. None have the presence, or the presence of mind, or the ability to execute that office without sinking this great nation into a slough of disaster it might never recover from.
On the Democratic side, I'd love to be able to make a hybrid of the two candidates. We need Hillary's experience with working the system and dealing with the rest of the world, we need Bernie's sensible ideas about getting things on track here. I really do hope whoever wins, that those two will work together, and it is my most fervent prayer that God deliver us from Donald Trump and Ted Cruz. Both of them have demonstrated ignorance of our Constitution, and shown contempt for people other than themselves. It frightens me that such as they could even be seriously CONSIDERED for the office of President.
All that aside, here are this week's ruminations on life, the universe, and everything
3/7/16
Again faced
With an empty page
Each day's challenge
The same, but not.
Because no two days
Are really
The same.
So many things I could
Be doing
But I promised
I would Write. So here I am
Filling lines
And time
With not much.
Story of my life.
3/8/16
Left it late
We often do
Leave what should
Be done
To the last possible
Moment
Catching ourselves
On the ragged edge
Of commitments
And needs
How prone to wander off
Is the mind
Especially nowadays
When so many
Beguiling
Electronic amusements
Beckon
Some feel productive
But they all
Just eat our time.
Some time IS
Well spent
If it allows
Us to connect to
Others
But most is
Just vacant
Staring at words
And cat pictures
On a screen.
Or playing idle games.
All of it gone
With the flip of a switch.
Perhaps it is an apt metaphor for all of life.
So much of what we do seems pointless
and yet is important to someone.
And our very existence could be wiped out just that quickly -
The strike of a meteor,
The launch of a missile
The spread of a microbe -
We are far more vulnerable than we wish to believe.
So, I'll cherish all my friends
The ones here,
And the ones all over the world
Online
All just as real
As you or I
For all that
Some
I've never met in person.
3/9/16
O coffee,
Elixir made
From magic beans
Hot and strong
Waking me up
On a foggy, grey
Morning.When I would much
Rather
Stay in bed.
Giving back
The ability
To think ,
Clearing my head
But this morning
Your flavor
Reminds me
That I need
To clean
The coffee maker
But still,
You are good.
For there are magic
Cocoa beans
In this batch,
Too.
O Lord,
How we
Poor,
Blind humans
Grope about
Seeking You.
We each have
Different perspectives
On what the greater
Power is -
Some don't see You
Because they cannot
Or will not
Others have tried
In so many ways
To describe
That which cannot BE
Described.
I believer we are ALL
Responsible
For living up to the
Truth
However we received it -
And that Truth
Universally
Seems to me to be
LOVE.
So many
Use the name
Of God
As an excuse,
A rallying point,
For behavior
That goes directly
AGAINST the heart of
EVERY message
About
You
That we have ever heard
From the teachers you
sent
And from You, Yourself,
As I believe
You came
We are NOT
Loving our neighbors
As ourselves,
And we are
Certainly
NOT
Loving God with all of our
Being.
Forgive us
And help us
Before we
Destroy
Each other -
I beg You!
Lord, in Your Mercy,
HEAR OUR PRAYER !
3/10/16
I missed a day. Easy to do when there are so many things that clamor for time and attention.
I thought I had that is, - turns out that pages stuck together
I THOUGHT I had written yesterday, but the evidence
Seems otherwise.
No coffee
Today
So I am
Slower to
Wake
But I can't
Have that jolt
Too often
It isn't good
For my body
So my mind
Must patiently
Rouse itself
Instead of depending
On Coffee's
Alarm
Calling all things
Into focus
And action
More slowly
Instead of
In the fire-drill
Immediacy
That Coffee
Can cause
For me.
An adventure tonight
At work
I've done it
Only once before
But it's
ZUMBA TIME
and I'm going
To work out
With them
The adventure really
Is in remembering
ALL the details.
3/12/16
Another lost day.
Yesterday I just wanted to read.
Writing appealed not at all.
Today I have more time,
But I don't feel there is anything to say
Other than
To express my sorrow
Over the mess
Our election process
Has become.
I really fear that
Trump is popular because
He knows exactly how to
Manipulate the fearful and frustrated
among the
Great, under-educated masses
In this country.
He panders to the selfish nature
Of those who seem to
Think they pay for
Everyone else.
I can understand frustration
I cannot understand naked hatred
And seeking to blame
A group or groups
For your problems.
That sounds too much
Like a song we heard before
From a guy named Hitler.
Remember him?
Remember how many people
DIED stopping him?
Remember how many he
Slaughtered
before the world
woke up and decided to
Stop him?
This generation would do well to quit being so selfish and lazy and look to long - term and HUMANE solutions to our problems. Hate and blame do not solve problems, they create MORE problems, bigger problems, the kind that will see this great nation reduced to rubble.
Trump doesn't care one BIT about ANY of you and your frustrations, except as a means to give himself power. He will throw you under the bus in a hot minute if it will suit his purpose. He doesn't care for anyone but himself, and he certainly doesn't know a single thing about God. His behavior and his words show that. Treating anyone who disagrees with him like garbage to be thrown out - he shows us exactly what kind of state we'd be in if he wins.
You enjoy your right to free speech? Kiss it and your social media good-bye. Trump is threatened by opposition of any sort. He will quash it. Whether it is legal to do so or not. The law of the land does not seem to matter to him, either.
He will start rounding up any group he dislikes and "disposing" of them because they are "a threat to the country" - If our Congress would do it's job, he'd be impeached the first time he tried any of that, but who knows? Most of Congress (and alas, our population) seem ignorant of the very Constitution that they have sworn to uphold.
Trump has stirred up something vile in this country. For the first time, I really fear the end is near. I beg of you, vote for anyone other than a man who openly shows his contempt for every single principle of freedom that this country was founded on. While you're at it, keep an eye on what the other Republican front runners are saying, because some of them sound like religious cult leaders rather than presidential candidates.
This country needs common sense and cohesion, not a narcissist stirring up division and dangerous hatred.
Our strength is in our ability to work and live together, in spite of our differences, and our ability to use those differences to solve our problems. You can't go wrong with a variety of talents and perspectives brought to bear on our issues. That's how this country became a great nation to begin with!
That said, I wade through stories and statements and reports, and try to make intelligent decisions when it seems most of my fellow citizens either do "eeny, meeny, miney mo" or vote for the one who has gotten the most publicity, or in some cases, for whomever their pastor has instructed them to vote for.
This year, I have decided that NONE of the Republican possibilities are qualified to be President. None have the presence, or the presence of mind, or the ability to execute that office without sinking this great nation into a slough of disaster it might never recover from.
On the Democratic side, I'd love to be able to make a hybrid of the two candidates. We need Hillary's experience with working the system and dealing with the rest of the world, we need Bernie's sensible ideas about getting things on track here. I really do hope whoever wins, that those two will work together, and it is my most fervent prayer that God deliver us from Donald Trump and Ted Cruz. Both of them have demonstrated ignorance of our Constitution, and shown contempt for people other than themselves. It frightens me that such as they could even be seriously CONSIDERED for the office of President.
All that aside, here are this week's ruminations on life, the universe, and everything
3/7/16
Again faced
With an empty page
Each day's challenge
The same, but not.
Because no two days
Are really
The same.
So many things I could
Be doing
But I promised
I would Write. So here I am
Filling lines
And time
With not much.
Story of my life.
3/8/16
Left it late
We often do
Leave what should
Be done
To the last possible
Moment
Catching ourselves
On the ragged edge
Of commitments
And needs
How prone to wander off
Is the mind
Especially nowadays
When so many
Beguiling
Electronic amusements
Beckon
Some feel productive
But they all
Just eat our time.
Some time IS
Well spent
If it allows
Us to connect to
Others
But most is
Just vacant
Staring at words
And cat pictures
On a screen.
Or playing idle games.
All of it gone
With the flip of a switch.
Perhaps it is an apt metaphor for all of life.
So much of what we do seems pointless
and yet is important to someone.
And our very existence could be wiped out just that quickly -
The strike of a meteor,
The launch of a missile
The spread of a microbe -
We are far more vulnerable than we wish to believe.
So, I'll cherish all my friends
The ones here,
And the ones all over the world
Online
All just as real
As you or I
For all that
Some
I've never met in person.
3/9/16
O coffee,
Elixir made
From magic beans
Hot and strong
Waking me up
On a foggy, grey
Morning.When I would much
Rather
Stay in bed.
Giving back
The ability
To think ,
Clearing my head
But this morning
Your flavor
Reminds me
That I need
To clean
The coffee maker
But still,
You are good.
For there are magic
Cocoa beans
In this batch,
Too.
O Lord,
How we
Poor,
Blind humans
Grope about
Seeking You.
We each have
Different perspectives
On what the greater
Power is -
Some don't see You
Because they cannot
Or will not
Others have tried
In so many ways
To describe
That which cannot BE
Described.
I believer we are ALL
Responsible
For living up to the
Truth
However we received it -
And that Truth
Universally
Seems to me to be
LOVE.
So many
Use the name
Of God
As an excuse,
A rallying point,
For behavior
That goes directly
AGAINST the heart of
EVERY message
About
You
That we have ever heard
From the teachers you
sent
And from You, Yourself,
As I believe
You came
We are NOT
Loving our neighbors
As ourselves,
And we are
Certainly
NOT
Loving God with all of our
Being.
Forgive us
And help us
Before we
Destroy
Each other -
I beg You!
Lord, in Your Mercy,
HEAR OUR PRAYER !
3/10/16
I missed a day. Easy to do when there are so many things that clamor for time and attention.
I thought I had that is, - turns out that pages stuck together
I THOUGHT I had written yesterday, but the evidence
Seems otherwise.
No coffee
Today
So I am
Slower to
Wake
But I can't
Have that jolt
Too often
It isn't good
For my body
So my mind
Must patiently
Rouse itself
Instead of depending
On Coffee's
Alarm
Calling all things
Into focus
And action
More slowly
Instead of
In the fire-drill
Immediacy
That Coffee
Can cause
For me.
An adventure tonight
At work
I've done it
Only once before
But it's
ZUMBA TIME
and I'm going
To work out
With them
The adventure really
Is in remembering
ALL the details.
3/12/16
Another lost day.
Yesterday I just wanted to read.
Writing appealed not at all.
Today I have more time,
But I don't feel there is anything to say
Other than
To express my sorrow
Over the mess
Our election process
Has become.
I really fear that
Trump is popular because
He knows exactly how to
Manipulate the fearful and frustrated
among the
Great, under-educated masses
In this country.
He panders to the selfish nature
Of those who seem to
Think they pay for
Everyone else.
I can understand frustration
I cannot understand naked hatred
And seeking to blame
A group or groups
For your problems.
That sounds too much
Like a song we heard before
From a guy named Hitler.
Remember him?
Remember how many people
DIED stopping him?
Remember how many he
Slaughtered
before the world
woke up and decided to
Stop him?
This generation would do well to quit being so selfish and lazy and look to long - term and HUMANE solutions to our problems. Hate and blame do not solve problems, they create MORE problems, bigger problems, the kind that will see this great nation reduced to rubble.
Trump doesn't care one BIT about ANY of you and your frustrations, except as a means to give himself power. He will throw you under the bus in a hot minute if it will suit his purpose. He doesn't care for anyone but himself, and he certainly doesn't know a single thing about God. His behavior and his words show that. Treating anyone who disagrees with him like garbage to be thrown out - he shows us exactly what kind of state we'd be in if he wins.
You enjoy your right to free speech? Kiss it and your social media good-bye. Trump is threatened by opposition of any sort. He will quash it. Whether it is legal to do so or not. The law of the land does not seem to matter to him, either.
He will start rounding up any group he dislikes and "disposing" of them because they are "a threat to the country" - If our Congress would do it's job, he'd be impeached the first time he tried any of that, but who knows? Most of Congress (and alas, our population) seem ignorant of the very Constitution that they have sworn to uphold.
Trump has stirred up something vile in this country. For the first time, I really fear the end is near. I beg of you, vote for anyone other than a man who openly shows his contempt for every single principle of freedom that this country was founded on. While you're at it, keep an eye on what the other Republican front runners are saying, because some of them sound like religious cult leaders rather than presidential candidates.
This country needs common sense and cohesion, not a narcissist stirring up division and dangerous hatred.
Our strength is in our ability to work and live together, in spite of our differences, and our ability to use those differences to solve our problems. You can't go wrong with a variety of talents and perspectives brought to bear on our issues. That's how this country became a great nation to begin with!
Sunday, March 6, 2016
Further Lenten Ruminations
2/28/16
This was written on my tablet during the sermon, right after Mother Susan almost mentioned the Holy Ghost in a scripture where it was not, in fact, mentioned. We all had a tiny giggle about it.
O Holy Spirit,
Who even in this
Solemn Season
Of Lent
Does still make
Thy Presence known
With bubbling laughter
And with joy.
So words are just images
for something far too large
to tame or make subject
to our inadequate imaginations.
All things in us that are good,
or useful
or in any way noble
are gifts of that joyful Spirit
Who moves where it will,
and blows joy and gifts of
understanding, mercy,
patience, and love
Into our very souls
If we will but receive them
To do the good works
The Spirit may inspire
Does give our very hearts
Strength.
They heal us, they give us
Yet more strength
To do yet more good
In this world.
2/29/16
Leap Day-
Leap of faith
Leap only after looking
Leap ahead,
Leapin' Lizards!
Didn't much want to muse on poetry this weekend, or today, really.
There is a story about the day I was born that they used to tell me, so I'd like to record it.
Better a few days late than never.
On the day I was born, my Mom had a regular appointment with her obstetrician. Since it was in the afternoon, my sister (13 at the time) went with her to help navigate. (Mom, we used to joke, could get lost in the back yard.) While at the appointment, the doctor informed her that she was in the very early stages of labor, and given that she was 36 (old to be having babies in those days), he wanted to take her to the hospital ASAP.
So, here's my 13 year old sister in the waiting room, having to get hold of Pop (no cell phones then) and have him come get them and take Mom to the hospital and her home. (Nobody under 18 allowed in Maternity waiting areas in those days.) Then, of course, Pop had to go back to the hospital. I don't know how they worked it out, perhaps our neighbor picked Pop up at work and took him to meet them at the doctor's office, and then took my sister home, I really don't know.
Must've been an interesting day for my family.
Evidently, I got stuck, and the doctor had to use forceps to get me out - I wasn't born until after 10 pm that night. Poor Mom. Both of us came through all right, though.
Ha! I've been an inconvenience to my family from the very beginning!
The very air holds magic, mystery, foreboding-
It is ripe with the tension of the coming storm.
Soon the lightning rips apart the sky
And the thunder roars at us
Like Doom itself
But quite often, this sound and fury
Doesn't mean much.
Not even much rain.
For all the portents
In the air.
3/1/16
And again, a blank page
The reading I was to do
Was not something I wanted
Today.
Today is hustle and bustle
Even though it's Tuesday -
Not Monday.
Still running all over
Too much to do
And never enough time.
Lots done,
But not everything
Never everything
The list looms
Eternally incomplete
3/2/16
More hurry and hope I got everything needful done. Last week was a blessing- a week out of time to do with as I wished - pretty much.
This week is back to obligations and schedules and wondering how on earth I ever
Had room in my head
For abstract thoughts
For images and dreams
When this all too concrete world
It seems
Is SO much with me.
A flash, a blink, caught in the corner of my eye
A flicker, and rumble,
And light tears apart the sky.
All's dry until
I get closer to home,
And then I notice the wet pavement
The occasional drop on the windshield
The calling cards of an early Spring storm.
3/6/16
On the 3rd, 4th, and 5th, I did not manage to get any writing done. I was off on the 3rd, we had a concert to attend that evening, so I took my comp day for Saturday, worked ALL DAY Friday to have enough hours, and then on Saturday, worked from 1 to 5, after having spent the better part of the morning cleaning the house. We had friends over, and so, there was no time to sit and write.
This day,
The wind blew
It blew clouds and
Shadows
All over town.
No rain or storms for us
Not today.
Just lost of wind
Loud,
Mournful,
Anguished, even.
Tugging at every
Loose item in the neighborhood.
Wanting our attention
Trying to tell us something.
Achy and weary
In every joint
But happy.
Worked hard
Got a lot done.
Ate well, but healthily.
There is work of the mind
To be done.
A story to tell
A story to share
But not yet.
It is still in the process
Of becoming.
Much planning,
Polishing,
And hoping
Yet to be done.
And my cozy bed
Looks far too tempting
On this night
When the wind
Continues to howl
Like a predator
On the prowl.
This was written on my tablet during the sermon, right after Mother Susan almost mentioned the Holy Ghost in a scripture where it was not, in fact, mentioned. We all had a tiny giggle about it.
O Holy Spirit,
Who even in this
Solemn Season
Of Lent
Does still make
Thy Presence known
With bubbling laughter
And with joy.
So words are just images
for something far too large
to tame or make subject
to our inadequate imaginations.
All things in us that are good,
or useful
or in any way noble
are gifts of that joyful Spirit
Who moves where it will,
and blows joy and gifts of
understanding, mercy,
patience, and love
Into our very souls
If we will but receive them
To do the good works
The Spirit may inspire
Does give our very hearts
Strength.
They heal us, they give us
Yet more strength
To do yet more good
In this world.
2/29/16
Leap Day-
Leap of faith
Leap only after looking
Leap ahead,
Leapin' Lizards!
Didn't much want to muse on poetry this weekend, or today, really.
There is a story about the day I was born that they used to tell me, so I'd like to record it.
Better a few days late than never.
On the day I was born, my Mom had a regular appointment with her obstetrician. Since it was in the afternoon, my sister (13 at the time) went with her to help navigate. (Mom, we used to joke, could get lost in the back yard.) While at the appointment, the doctor informed her that she was in the very early stages of labor, and given that she was 36 (old to be having babies in those days), he wanted to take her to the hospital ASAP.
So, here's my 13 year old sister in the waiting room, having to get hold of Pop (no cell phones then) and have him come get them and take Mom to the hospital and her home. (Nobody under 18 allowed in Maternity waiting areas in those days.) Then, of course, Pop had to go back to the hospital. I don't know how they worked it out, perhaps our neighbor picked Pop up at work and took him to meet them at the doctor's office, and then took my sister home, I really don't know.
Must've been an interesting day for my family.
Evidently, I got stuck, and the doctor had to use forceps to get me out - I wasn't born until after 10 pm that night. Poor Mom. Both of us came through all right, though.
Ha! I've been an inconvenience to my family from the very beginning!
The very air holds magic, mystery, foreboding-
It is ripe with the tension of the coming storm.
Soon the lightning rips apart the sky
And the thunder roars at us
Like Doom itself
But quite often, this sound and fury
Doesn't mean much.
Not even much rain.
For all the portents
In the air.
3/1/16
And again, a blank page
The reading I was to do
Was not something I wanted
Today.
Today is hustle and bustle
Even though it's Tuesday -
Not Monday.
Still running all over
Too much to do
And never enough time.
Lots done,
But not everything
Never everything
The list looms
Eternally incomplete
3/2/16
More hurry and hope I got everything needful done. Last week was a blessing- a week out of time to do with as I wished - pretty much.
This week is back to obligations and schedules and wondering how on earth I ever
Had room in my head
For abstract thoughts
For images and dreams
When this all too concrete world
It seems
Is SO much with me.
A flash, a blink, caught in the corner of my eye
A flicker, and rumble,
And light tears apart the sky.
All's dry until
I get closer to home,
And then I notice the wet pavement
The occasional drop on the windshield
The calling cards of an early Spring storm.
3/6/16
On the 3rd, 4th, and 5th, I did not manage to get any writing done. I was off on the 3rd, we had a concert to attend that evening, so I took my comp day for Saturday, worked ALL DAY Friday to have enough hours, and then on Saturday, worked from 1 to 5, after having spent the better part of the morning cleaning the house. We had friends over, and so, there was no time to sit and write.
This day,
The wind blew
It blew clouds and
Shadows
All over town.
No rain or storms for us
Not today.
Just lost of wind
Loud,
Mournful,
Anguished, even.
Tugging at every
Loose item in the neighborhood.
Wanting our attention
Trying to tell us something.
Achy and weary
In every joint
But happy.
Worked hard
Got a lot done.
Ate well, but healthily.
There is work of the mind
To be done.
A story to tell
A story to share
But not yet.
It is still in the process
Of becoming.
Much planning,
Polishing,
And hoping
Yet to be done.
And my cozy bed
Looks far too tempting
On this night
When the wind
Continues to howl
Like a predator
On the prowl.
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