Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
Hookah ... at Aladdin's Café Ashes cover embers, water clouds with smoke, and the long tube's passed to and fro, the fire stoked. The scent's exhaled through noses, rings blow past the lips and quiet descends upon the day, the bats, the swallows that dip. They pass the mouthpiece 'cross the table, they lounge back, take a toke. They speak in soft and prayful voices: the father, son and holy smoke. [164.16] llllllllllllspringlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll HENBIT ALERT: WATCH FOR CRAWLING PURPLE FLOWERS DISGUISED AS WEEDS. llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll L'aura del campo Spring: 9 Bahá 164 (29 March) 76º. 'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos' ♣ Federico García Lorca ♣ Sadness "O Lord, let something remain", Yeats Sad when there's something to be sad about. This is understood by everyone. The one who's sad; the one who sees the sadness. But today is bright and gay, so why this sadness that overwhelms? I feel it should be raining. Not the torrents, toss and turn of nascent Spring, not the sense of renewal everywhere one looks. But the triste of Autumn's grey diminuendo. An adagio of numbness past the pain. Not wind. Just rain. WRITING I was sitting next to Sue Young last night and laughing about her name. She pronounces it as one word: Sooyung. And people think she's Asian until they see her. So I quickly sketched a poem and then asked her two odd questions: Did she ride horse (she used to) and did she like pink (no!). So I was right about both. It's fun writing poems about the characters I meet. Even better when I'm able to capture in words some truth about them. This is the result to date (it's too new to be consider done): Sooyung for Sue Young of Lawrence, Kansas Stout brown shoes, khakis, blond, she speaks to me, confides she's not Chinese ... ... but I'm not sure. Our grandfolks got around, we smirk. I think she looks Mongolian, lost daughter of some long dead Khan. She's tall and outward looking too, looks great upon a horse, I think (no saddle needed, a natural), but not in pink! assuredly in blue, the blue skies of East Kansas or Mongolia. [164.19] Fairly new to me and you, so go review: "Footprints in the snow" (for Nyia Page), "Violets" , "The moon is blue ice" , "Song of an Age" , "Plain cover jacket" , "In search of Iris" , "Crow feathers" , "Like water for chocolate," , "Love-lies-bleeding" , and "Spear" . Me, my friends and my family Tuesday night I found a tick on me. Very unhappy because they are dangerous. And this seems a bit early in the season. Last night I had plenty of energy. Today much less. I tend to always procrastinate. I sent out an important email today. Should've last week. I get overwhelmed and shut down. I will be eating ravioli every day for the next week! Hub and I went to the city meeting last night and we both spoke and it went well. Daily Scripture Writing of religion as a social force, Bahá’u’lláh said: “Religion is the greatest of all means for the establishment of order in the world and for the peaceful contentment of all that dwell therein.” Referring to the eclipse or corruption of religion, he wrote: “Should the lamp of religion be obscured, chaos and confusion will ensue, and the lights of fairness, of justice, of tranquillity and peace cease to shine.” From: The Promise of World Peace !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX WECANOTIASSIMILDICLEANMEY A0EVENACBIVINMNWPPCHAOSE ASBMYHLIIEDTHEREASDISDDECI AIOSEDABNKKRFITYPATTERNCO ASLEDKGTIHODDERALOPEDUITE XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX ¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡ When I posted the above in my blog entry "Even in chaos ... More hockey poems." on June 5th '06, I had only 3,700 views to date. Now there have been over 17,000. I think WOW! what happened? Perhaps part of it is the number of people who google and come across this entry. 61 views are listed for it when I pull up my list on entries under the "Manage" tool. (from when and over what period of time, I wonder?) Does anyone know what those 'views' mean? (like in the last month?) WATT'S GNU! Meh ... yaz wanna nose da gnus go get da paypuh. IMAGES and RAMBLINGS Bats and nighthawks in the sunset sky. Lilacs and redbuds in bloom. The fragrance, the color. Dandelions, violets, blue grape hyacinths; new bronze leaves of a maple sapling; purple, yellow, white tulips; gurgle of a fountain; sad magnolia, purple petals rotting brown; hillside of dandelions; yellow-green racemes of maple; yellow-green spikes of irises, white rock arabis, new fragrant growth on the lavender, pink phlox; brown needles dangling from the dead limbs of a pine; Virginia bluebells: blue and pink; dandelions, dandelions, dandelions. The weather has been stormy to the west. Tornadoes are beginning their annual Spring swarming. Holley, Colorado got hit bad. The weather is headed this way. Today it is 30º in Denver and the stormy weather will drown Tulsa in about 2 inches (5 cm) rain. 52º in Missoula though . READING Moon's Child, a chapbook of poems by Ray Aleen Paul, a local poet. He printed and bound them himself (5.5 x 8.5 with a folded cover to mark the page you're on, bound with a comb), so we'll need to talk. I really liked his poem "The Black Broken Wheel Barrow" which is a take on William Carlos Williams famous poem. B.H. Fairchild. Continue to be awed by his poems like "At Omaha Beach". BLOGVILLE Oh ... I've been reading and commenting, but not writing the links down. 17,024 views ** Image ID #1134108 Unavailable ** Kåre Enga ~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish |