The Happiest Place on Earth

We're off to Disneyland tomorrow and will be gone for a week! See ya later, alligators!

Funny Little Bunyan!

...is wearing his pants on his head, and his shirt upside down! Do you think this is going to catch on here? A new fad???

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Baby Update

Please click it!

Labels People Have Given Me over the Years

I borrowed this idea from January, Choir-girl, Up and Comer, Democrat, Good-cooker, and Poet-Mom, and had fun doing it!

* * * *


Newborn*Girl*Baby*Daughter*Granddaughter*Sister*Niece*Cousin*
Mugwump*Blondie*Dice*Dicey*Joyce*
Joycie*Child*Skinny*Fat*Bashful*Shy*Quiet*Baby-Crazy*Student*Smart*
Latter-Day Saint*Mormon*Child of God*Desert Rat*Californian*Brownie* Girl Scout*Girlfriend*Loner*
*President of Art Club*Artist*Grand Prize Winner*Sweepstakes Winner*President of Drama Club*Graduate*Best Friend*Joycie-My-Joycie*Juice*Beatnik*Bohemian*Flower Child*Single*Passive*Agressive*Actress*New Girl*Not A Bulldog*Married*Newlywed*Mrs.*That Girl*That Lady*That Woman*Wife*Sister-in-Law*Daughter-in-Law*Joy*Poet*Author*Writer
*Cancer Victim*Patient*Survivor*Neighbor*Book Award Winner*American*Democrat*Protester*Activist*Pacifist*Telephone Operator
*Lens Polisher*Waitress*Usher*Telemarketer*Teacher*Poet of the Year*Renter*Homeowner*Pet Owner*Animal Lover*Credit Card Holder*Sis*Aunt Joyce *Editor*Moviegoer*Right-Brained*Reader*Utahn*Mother*Mama*Soccer Mom*Pedestrian*Pianist*Mother-in-Law*Grandmother*Gramma*Big Apple*Gram Cracker*Librarian*Retired*Vacationer*Senior Citizen*Spacey*
*Blogger*Contributer*Pepek the Assassin.

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PT: Rivers

This poem is an old one, the first in a seven-poem series I was commissioned by BYU to write for an International Horn Festival. The fellow commissioned to write the music never finished, so it was never performed. But I got paid, just the same!

The Dreamers


The Great Bear slumbers
In a cave of stars,
The Little Bear, Aries the Ram.

The wind is a still sea.
The horned owl hangs
In chill air, feathers scarcely stirring.
He floats like a swimmer
Above the white bones of jackrabbits,
Over the winter burrows of field mice.

The mountains breathe
In the dark--a sleeping breath
Of hawk and fox,
Of wildcat and beaver.
The river is bleak, the shallows are ice.

Under the hill,
In a cave of granite and quartz-crystal
The black bear sleeps,
Keeps sleeping,
Patiently entombed in his deep
Burial vault.

Let him sleep. Let them all sleep.
Let them savor the brown earth-smell
Of their dreams.
Let them cling to the dim runes
Of dreams.
Let them range far, light-years distant.
Let them dream of spring,
Of moving water, of light,
Of the beautiful sons and daughters
Of air-dwellers and river-drifters
And cave-slumberers.
Let them dream.

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It's All in the Tongue....

Isaac's trying out for the Gene Simmons spot in a KISS Tribute band! (Click it!)



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PT: A Conversation Overheard

OVERHEARD ON A SALT MARSH


Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?

Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?

Give them me.

No.

Give them me. Give them me.

No.

Then I will howl all night in the reeds. Lie in the mud and howl for them.

Goblin, why do you love them so?

They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
Your green glass beads on a silver string.

Hush, I stole them out of the moon.

Give me your beads. I desire them.

No.

I will howl in a deep lagoon for your green glass beads. I love them so. Give them me. Give them me.

No.


--Harold Monro

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Day of Grace

All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.

--Cecil Frances Alexander



This beautiful image was made by our friend Maureen at Raven's Nest, the most talented, inspired and insightful artist and photographer I've seen.

Click to better see it in wonderful detail.
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Halfwing

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

--Matthew 10:29,30

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WOO HOO!

My little STARFISH is having his first piano recital this afternoon! Congratulations, KI, good work!

(Update: He did a great job, playing Fuzzy Baby Bird. I was happily surprised to find BOOKWORM was also performing in this recital, with a piece called Ancient Lantern. She did well, and I whistled and shouted and clapped loudly for both of them, as a grandma should.

Strangely, when I got home, there was a real fuzzy baby bird on my back doorstep--something (cat?) had torn off half of his little wing. I put antibiotic on his wounds and made him a nest, and tried to get him to eat a little hamburger worm (but he refused. Tried a little bread and milk, also refused.) So I'll just let him rest. I held him keeping him warm for 2 or 3 hours, then put him in his nest. He probably won't make it through the night, but I tried. He is still pretty fuzzy, with some new feathers...if he lives, I'll call him Halfwing. If he dies, I'll still call him Halfwing).

PT: Another Kind of Remourse ;D

Last week I said my own regrets. This week I'll tell you Edna St. Vincent Millay's: hers is way better!


The Penitent

I had a little Sorrow,
Born of a little Sin,
I found a room all damp with gloom
And shut us all within;
And, "Little Sorrow, weep." said I,
"And Little Sin, pray God to die,
And I upon the floor will lie
And think how bad I've been!"

Alas for pious planning--
It mattered not a whit!
As far as gloom went in that room,
The lamp might have been lit!
My little Sorrow would not weep,
My little Sin would go to sleep--
To save my soul I could not keep
My graceless mind on it!

So up I got in anger,
And took a book I had,
And put a ribbon in my hair
To please a passing lad,
And, "One thing there's no getting by--
I've been a wicked girl," said I;
"But if I can't be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!"



"Poet. Playwright. Actress. Lover. Pulitzer Winner. Breadwinner. Jazz Age Heroine. Sexual Revolutionary. Wife. Daughter. Drinker. Pacifist. Activist. Celebrated. Villified. Beloved. Notorious. Remembered. Forgotten? Not if she has anything to say about it!" (From the THEATERMANIA show at Collective:Unconscious, First Fig Productions "Edna St, Vincent Millay Speaks to the Committee on Immortality.")

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

...and many more.... :D

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

PT: Kick-Start

THE PENITENT

"Sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within."

--Galway Kinnell, "St. Francis and the Sow"


You bring your problems down upon yourself
free in their error, full of
your own hot air
raising the great gas balloon of you
upward, every time you open your mouth

unstopped by any loving hand
that would tether you to ground
to earth, the greatest good, to sorrow

you don't understand this: things
are not always as they seem
you have to get out of your own way
suddenly you forget yourself you're grateful
for their affection

for keeping you
with all your strings, grounded
infinitely loved, forgiven

then, like a child, innocent
you let it go, because
these are the very hands you trust
you know you can trust, the hands
consecrated to the work
of keeping you safe
and bringing you home


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Thinking Bloggers!

I was recently nominated (WooHoo! First time!) for a Thinking Blogger Award, by Desert Rat, my good NaNo buddy and poet friend at celticharper.com ...Thankyouthankyouthankyou, DR. Now, here are five blogs that make me think:

newdharmabums.blogspot.com -- to roger and robin andrea for caring about the earth and its creatures, for their sharing of wildlife, and receipes, and their knowledge of the Good Life.

Maureen, at ravengrrl.blogspot.com --for both of her blogs: her photo blog, Land of Little Rain, and for RAVEN'S NEST. Both are terrific. She wins the #1 Photographer blog in my book!

parisparfait.typepad.com -- gives wonderful and informative European tours of places I will never get to see in real time. I love traveling! Thanks for taking me along!

knownunknowns.blogspot.com keeps me current with his insightful and informative political and newsy posts. He's very smart and opinionated. Has a wealth of good links to offer!

jefflindsay.com --an "eclectic little site" of satire and spoof and serious writings on many topics. Contains some religious material, so may not be for everyone. This is called Cracked Planet on my sidebar. Has a great quote from William James on his sidebar: "A great many people think they are thinking when they are really rearranging their prejudices."


(So sorry I don't know how to link directly to these sites. Please check them out anyway! You'll be glad you did!)

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Congratulations Pixletwin, BFA!

Hugs and Kisses, we are proud of you!
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A Herd of Dust Mites

from Britains's 2001 Science Photo Library Catalogue

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Carina Nebula Dust Pillar

Wow. You think those microscopic bugs who live in our eyelashes, and the dust mites who live in our carpet and move around like tiny elephants or bears eating skin flakes look menacing -- take a look at this super-sized dust giant in Carina Nebula! This dust-monster is really a dust pillar a light year long (one light year being 9,500,000,000,000 kilometers).

Inside this monster's head is a star bursting out a tornado of gas and dust. And look: it has little arms like T Rex, and is whirling its head in some cosmic tantrum, spewing light from its terrible nostrils!


Credit: NASA, ESA, N. Smith (U of California, Berkeley) et al, and The Hubble Telescope Team.

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Happy Birthday Mr. D.

Happy 74! May we last forever....


Lost: Ambition.
Found: A good book,
an old sweater,
loose shoes.

(Ted Kooser, or Jim Harrison, BRAIDED CREEK)

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Carolyn Forche

I had the pleasure of meeting Carolyn Forche at a reading and workshop last week! What a gracious and interesting woman she is, and I will share what I learned from her in my Poetry Thursday column in a couple of weeks! Meanwhile, here's one of her poems.


In "Song Coming Toward Us," she writes:

I am spirit entering
the stomach of the stones.

Bowls of clay and water sing,
set on the fires to dry.
The mountain moves
like the spirit of southeast morning.

You walk where drums are buried.
Feel their skins tapping all night.
Snow flutes swell ahead of your life.
Listen to yourself.

I am spirit living
thin wooden years
around the aspen.

You live
like a brief wisp
in a giant place.

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A Nice Boy!

Jacob picked a beautiful bouquet of yellow flowers and brought them to me. "Thank you," I said, giving him a hug and a kiss.



"How NICE I am!" he said.

Indeed!

It's nice to be surrounded by such NICE people!



(Who KNOW they are nice....)

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PT: Guerrilla Poetry

Welcome to my corner of the world. This is my neighborhood book group (minus one or two), where last night we read a little poetry, talked a little poetry, had cupcakes and Sprite, and I left a poem (or two or three) with each of them. And here are the pictures to prove it.

Aren't they beautiful people?

My First Meme...!

Wendy, who is quiet about a lot of things, answered 5 questions sent to her by her friend Karl. Now she has given me five questions (of her choosing) to answer. I'll do my best, okay? Then, if YOU want to play, let me know in the comments and I will personally craft five questions for YOU!


1. Compare and contrast women now and then.

Women then were tougher than they are now. They wore hats and bustles and corsets and shoes that required a crochet-hook to button. They didn't have zippers and snaps and velcro, or cute Nikes. They had to go out and gather their own nuts and berries and grind it into pemmican, whereas now we can put on our Nikes and run down to the Safeway, or better, the Olive Garden. They looked funny. Just look at a photograph of your great grandmother, for instance. We look good--we pluck our eyebrows and Botox our wrinkles and color our grey hair.

Women were tougher then than they are now. There is no way in hell I could ever walk a thousand miles through the snow (in my high-buttoned shoes). Or lose most of my children to flu or diptheria (as my great grandmother did), or watch them die of hunger, or cold, and bury them and leave them on the plains. I just couldn't. My children had all their vaccinations, and parkas, and braces on their teeth.

Women were tougher then than they are now. They had to read penny dreadfuls, or the Bible, or nothing at all. We have Blogs!


2. I'd like to know a bit about your faith...

I am LDS (Mormon). I believe that "the Glory of God is Intelligence," and that I am a child of God, that I have a Heavenly Mother as well as a Heavenly Father. I believe that life is eternal, that I existed before my birth on this earth, and will continue to exist. I believe that the universe is filled with light, and with life, and that those are probably the same thing. I believe that "Families are Forever," and that "Man is that he might have Joy." (Joy: being loved, learning to love others, having free agency to make bad choices, learning things -- languages and histories and cultures, planets, stars, galaxies....) I believe that God speaks to men, that there are many 'holy' books, that Mohammed and the Buddha, and Black Elk were inspired with truth. I believe the Old Testament, and the New Testament are testaments of Jesus Christ. I believe the Book of Mormon is ANOTHER testament of Christ. I believe that Christ's Atonement was universal and applies to everyone, to all people, to animals, to "every blade of grass." So, yes, I kiss my dogs. But not on the LIPS. (Does this answer your bonus question, somewhat? --but, I didn't even talk Baby Talk to my babies!) I believe that animals have souls--if any of our lives are eternal, they all are. I believe that I will have the opportunity to hold the baby I lost, and kiss his neck, and raise him to a perfect adulthood as a part of our family. There it is. In a Nutshell.

3. You said you travelled a bit...(from Home) as a young woman...How did your parents and peers feel about that?

I joined a theater repertory company when I was young and had decided to become a great actress...it was a lot of fun and I loved the people I travelled with, the people I met, and I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything. I have a lot of good memories. But, my parents weren't as enthusiastic about my "bumming around the country" with a bunch of actors. But they got over it. As for my peers...I was kind of a loner (not the kind that suddenly buys a gun and 50 rounds of ammunition and shoots people!) but I kept pretty much to myself...so I don't know what they thought. My folks were supportive, in spite of their misgivings.

4. Did your sons marry women like you...or not like you?

Um, probably not like me. THEY (my sons) are a lot like me, but their wives--not so much. One of my daughters-in-law is Japanese, is a wonderful housekeeper (which I am not) and a fantastic cook (which I am definitely not). She is tiny and beautiful, a good mother to Bookworm and Starfish. Another daughter-in-law is Filipina, also tiny and beautiful (which I am not), teaches school, is a good mother to Chime and Cake, and loves to eat stuff I think is hideous--like pig's blood over rice, balut (half-grown duck embryos in a half-boiled egg *shudder*) and fish heads; another is tall and fair-haired and beautiful, and Lutheran, and Swedish, (all good things!). She has a Master's of Social Work degree, is a family counselor, and is the mother of my two fair-haired, blue-eyed and hazel-eyed grandsons. And the most recent is a Baptist/Episcopalian, dark-haired, attorney (much smarter than I!), who is a victim's advocate and looks like she should be on TV in Law and Order... and is the mom of my littlest, so handsome grandson. So, no, they're not like me...They are all four of them beautiful and smart and kind-hearted, and I love them all ENORMOUSLY! We have really interesting Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners!

5. What food soothes you?

What food? ALL food (but not blood, balut or fish heads). I am like a vacuum cleaner, soothed by old crackers, stale cake, cold spaghetti, ...anything. Unfortunately.

Bonus question: Do you kiss your dogs? How about Baby Talk?

I love my dogs. See question/answer #2.



Directions for the Interview Meme:

1. Leave me a comment saying "Interview Me."

2. I will respond by asking you 5 questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them 5 questions.

** Photo of my great grandmother, Laura Ann. Thanks, Wendy. That was fun!

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Unthinkable

Condolences to all the families and friends who lost loved ones at Virginia Tech yesterday.

"So it goes....."

"When the last living thing has died on account of us, how poetical it would be if Earth could say, in a voice floating up perhaps from the floor of the Grand Canyon, 'It is done." People did not like it here."


"The world doesn't need more love. It needs more common decency."


"Freud said he didn't know what women wanted. I know what women want: a whole lot of people to talk to. What do they want to talk about? They want to talk about everything. What do men want? They want a lot of pals, and they wish people wouldn't get so mad at them."


"He finally stopped laughing at his own agony and that of those around him. He denounced life on this planet as a crock. He died."


"Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt."


"So it goes."

(Kurt Vonnegut died on Wednesday, April 11th. He was 84. RIP, Kurt. Yours was a literary voice that was irreplaceable. There will never be another like you!)

Picture credit to Ivory Tower at salon.com
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PT: Borrowings

INANIMATE THINGS


If you and I were inanimate things
to shine on after we are gone,
made suddenly vivid in a world of lucid dreams

(like stars in the quiet sleep of concrete), it seems
as if then, we -- the two of us-- are drawn
like stones, like comets, like all inanimate things

too soon made bright in fire, burnt offerings
still smoldering: our lives together stillborn and withdrawn
come suddenly vivid in a world of lucid dreams.

We listen, motionless, passive in our subtle schemes,
(like monk Merton, spending his life in stillness, whereupon
he learned the value of inanimate things).

We should be more serious about our mutterings
and such, of linens, needles, pins. And yet we've forged a bond
between us, muffling the silence of such inanimate things--

soundproofed walls! 'Quiet satisfies the soul,' and deep sleep sings,
and you and I, intimate, like stars and suns, like dark and dawn,
I and you are vigilant about inanimate things
like us, made suddenly vivid in a world of lucid dreams.


(Thanks to Megan, for"If you and I were inanimate things," to Michelle at another planet for "to shine on aftrer you are gone," and to moonmaid, for "suddenly vivid in a world of lucid dreams."
Sorry I don't know how to make links to the three of you! :(

The quote 'Quiet satisfies the soul' is attributed to Thomas Merton.)

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Sweet Simple Things

PT: A Poem For...

Hey Nonny, Hi Nonny,
Wierd Science-Fantasy
Hasn't the wherewith
To buy this canard.

Try us again next year
If we're not bankrupt for
Remuneration, Dear
Orson Scott Card.


(This was written years ago in a SF class I took from Brother Card--a rejection slip as a specific form of poetry. I have forgotten the name of the form. If any of you out there know it, please advise...! It was a great class, and he is a terrific writer!)
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Green is good, too!

Green is good, too!

Bookworm has written another poem! This one is called:

Dark Blue

Dark blue smells like the light
mist on a spring morning.

Dark blue looks like the dark
midnight sky.

Dark blue feels like a home-made
sweater with love in every stitch.

Dark blue sounds like dolphins
splashing in the deep blue sea.

Dark blue tastes like juicy blueberries
growing in the soft spring meadow.

(Good work, BW!)

PT: My Last Duchess

MY LAST DUCHESS

Ferrara


That's my last duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now; Fra Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will't please you sit and look at her? I said
"Fra Pandolf" by design, for never read
STrangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its eatnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 'twas not
Her husband's presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess' cheek; perhaps
Fra Pandolf chanced to say, "Her mantle laps
Over my lady's wrist too much," or, "Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the faint
Half-blush that dies along her throat." Such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart -- how shall I say?-- too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked what'er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, 'twas all one! My favor at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace -- all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men -- good! but thanked
Somehoe -- I know not how -- as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech -- which I have not -- to make your will
Quite clear to such an one, and say, "Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,
Or there exceed the mark"-- and if she let
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse --
E'een then would some be stopping; and I chose
Never to stoop. Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will't please you rise? We'll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master's known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretense
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though this fair daughter's self, as I avowed
As starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!

--Robert Browning (1812-1889)


(O.J. Who? -- A masterpiece indeed. Rhymed and in iambic pentameter, too! Did you read it all the way through? What happened to the Duchess? Should we have been told, or is enough said in the white spaces between the words?)

Painting of Lucrezia deMedici, the real Duchess to Alphonse II of Ferrara.

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PT: A Picture, A Picture

'BY GIS AND BY SAINT CHARITY'


In this book
There was a picture
Of fair, mad Ophelia
Floating face up, trailing daisies:
On another page: The Rape
Of Lucretia, startled hand to throat,
Round breasts fallen over her bodice
Like white May pears.
Somewhere dark Othello
And that poor Jew Shylock
Protested in blacker
Pentametered despair.

The pictures drew me.
The words were partly understood,
Underscored by my
Splayed young fingers across the paper.

Now I trail ink-stained daisies
Of my own, sing mad songs,
Demand my pound of flesh,
Stare blindly
Across remoter spaces between years
And wait for whirling obsidian waters
To have me,
To carry this
Ash-white body
And cut it into stars.


Picture: Ernest Hebert, Ophelia, c. 1910. (Actually this poem came from illustrations in a book of Shakespeare that my parents owned. The book itself is long gone, but as a child I was fascinated by the pictures and looked at them often.)
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Where Do Pets Come From?

A newly discovered chapter in the Book of Genesis has provided the answer to "Where do pets come from?"

Adam and Eve said, "Lord, when we were in he garden, you walked with us every day. Now we do not see you any more. We are lonesome here, and it is difficult for us to remember how much you love us." And God said, I will create a companion for you that will be with you and who will be a reflection of my love for you, so that you will love me even when you cannot see me. Regardless of how selfish or childish or unlovable you may be, this new companion will accept you as you are and will love you as I do, in spite of yourselves." And God created a new animal to be a companion for Adam and Eve.

And it was a good animal. And God was pleased. And the new animal was pleased to be with Adam and Eve and he wagged his tail.

And Adam said, "Lord, I have already named all the animals in the Kingdom and I cannot think of a name for this new animal." And God said, "I have created this new animal to be a reflection of my love for you. His name will be a reflection of my own name, and you will call him DOG."

And Dog lived with Adam and Eve and was a companion to them and loved them. And they were comforted. And God was pleased. And Dog was content and wagged his tail.

After a while, it came to pass that an angel came to the Lord and said, "Lord, Adam and Eve have become filled with pride. They strut and preen like peacocks and they believe they are worthy of adoration. Dog has indeed taught them that they are loved, but perhaps too well."

And God said, "I will create for them a companion who will be with them and who will see them as they are. This companion will remind them of their limitations, so they will know that they are not always worthy of adoration." And God created CAT to be a companion to Adam and Eve.

And Cat would not obey them.

And when Adam and Eve gazed into Cat's eyes, they were reminded that they were not the supreme beings. And Adam and Eve learned humility. And they were greatly improved.

And God was pleased.

And Dog was happy.

And Cat didn't give a shit one way or the other.


(Thanks to my good friend Bob Johnston! --and this is a photo of my Dog, Lucky.)

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ERIN GO BRAGH (Ireland Forever)

Finnegan, who's had a drop too much, is driving home from the pub at midnight, and a cop pulls him over. Says the cop to Finnegan, "Where've you been?"

"Why, I've been to the pub, of course," says the drunk.

"Well," says the cop, "Your car's been weaving all over the road! IT looks as though you've had quite a few this evening!"

"I did all right," says Finnegan with a smile.

"Did you know," says the cop, folding his arms acrost his chest, "that a few intersections back, your wife fell out of your car?"

"Oh, thank heaven," sighs Finnegan. "For a minute there, I thought I'd gone deaf!"
. . . . . .

"Finnegan," says the cop. "Do you understand plain English?"

"I do if it's spoken in Irish," says Finnegan.

. . . . . .

Finnegan's wife had been killed in the accident and the police were questioning him. "Did she say anything before she died?" asked the cop.

"Oh, she spoke without interruption for about forty years," said Finnegan.
. . . . . .

"When I die," says J.P. Dunleavy, an Irish writer of some repute, "I want to decompose in a barrel of porter and have it served in all the pubs in Ireland!"

. . . . . .

And that's why God invented whisky--so the Irish would never rule the world!
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PT: Opprobrious Words

I was going to sit this one out, but, what the helk...(my 4-yr-old grandson says "we always say 'what the heck.' Because 'what the helk is BAD.'") I guess I was born to be a rebel.

Opprobrious words
Once said, as courtesies like please
Or thank you, or even
I love you

Will float
Like plastic goldfish
Doing tricks
In a cheap bowl

The first rule of nature: everything
According to its kind;
Opprobrious words can not
Be taken back

Blooming everywhere
Over bare ground, through insects
Gravel, dust, marking intricate trails
One molecule at a time

(LOL! I just looked at the definition: it said "Contumelious reproach." Contumelious! Indeed. It also means "shameful, as 'this dark, opprobrious den of shame'." I found some other neat words nearby: opsimath, opsonic, opsonin, opunyia, oquassa....)

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The Goose-Girl

There were robins in my front yard this morning! Robins! Spring is my favorite time of the year. And it arrives next Wednesday at 12:o7 AM (GMT). For my Welsh kindred--the Spring Equinox, Gwyl Canol Gwen Wynol, or Eostre (pronounced E-ostra) is the time of equal day and equal night. But you already knew that, didn't you? Night and day are in perfect balance, with the powers of light on the ascendancy. But I'll bet you didn't know that in the Welsh Mabinogion, the first day of spring was when Llew (the god of light) takes his vengeance on Goronwy (his evil twin, the god of darkness) and pierces him with a spear of sunlight!

This is the season of the year when we celebrate life over death. The crocus, the daffodils, and the tulips are showing up. The robins and other birds will be building their nests. Maybe they'll line them with the long soft hair cuttings I put out for them yesterday, after I shaved my son's head. I used to do that when I cut my grandsons hair--we put their hair-cuttings in a box up in the tree. Woven into the nest, it would be a warm, soft place for the babies to grow up.


Edna St. Vincent Millay wrote one of my favorite poems about spring, The Goose-Girl:

Spring rides no horses down the hill,
But comes on foot, a goose-girl still.
And all the loveliest things there be
Come simply, so, it seems to me.
If ever I said, in grief or pride,
I tired of honest things, I lied;
And should be cursed forevermore
With Love in laces, like a whore,
And neighbors cold, and friends unsteady,
And Spring on horseback, like a lady!

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Slick's Place

For the Bunyans, in far away frozen Minnesota: Spring is well on its way. Alleluia! Keep your eyes open! Here is a bud pushing through toward spring, photographed a few weeks ago at Slick's place. Annie Dillard says spring is seeping north at 14 miles a day. Today it was 54 degrees here. At 14 miles a day, how long do you have to wait? Annie Dillard says, "I don't want to miss spring this year. I want to be there on the spot the moment the grass turns green...I see it from a window, the yard so suddenly green...I could envy Nebuchadnezzar down on all fours eating grass."

The glaciers in your front yard will soon crack to water in the sun. Until then, throw another log on the fire and settle in. And think of me, down on all fours, eating grass!

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PT: After the close woven touch

After the close woven touch,
Thorn and velvet tongue-tapping
Spindrift night,
After the firm dovetailing of nerves,
Gunner, crack-shot, shell and ball
Bridging the half-way halves--
(Taking the moon by the teeth)
The seeded flesh
Masters the inhaling womb.
Bienvenue,
Galleries of manshaped boys
Kicking a bellyful of heels,
Roll, grasp, leap toward the burst light,
Tear through thickets of bent bone
And drowned dark, crush and wane
In the cruel sweet and endless forever,
And empty in the capsized bed.
Bienvenue,
The salt and watery boys
Riding the shipwrecked waves
Home.


(An old poem, written when I was young and easy, and under the spell of Dylan Thomas.)

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"Your Dreams Miss You!"

Remember that Rozerem ad where the diver, the beaver, and Abe Lincoln all tell the sleepless guy that his "dreams miss him." I saw a new ad this morning where the guy goes in to work, and explains his insomnia to his boss. "Tell me about it," she says without sympathy, and she walks past followed by a little blue pony....

This reminded me of a dream I had last night, where I met an unconfident, lost camel on the street. He looked remarkably like Joe Camel, if he'd been painted by El Greco--long and sad, rather like Don Quixote's horse. This camel told me he was trying to find his house, a red house, so I obliged and helped him look for it. At length, after going up and down several streets, I finally found a red house. I pointed it out to him. "Not THAT red house," he said irritably. The ungrateful wretch.

Aren't dreams wonderful?! They keep sleep from being such a total waste of time!
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Lighten up!

Speaking of "The Body...."

Oh my heck,
It's time for THAT, again!

PT: The Body

backache


backache
flattens me

gin in the veins
might help

tonight I fly on brittle bones
out of this skin

this old pain
disconnects

my top and bottom
halves

sleep waivers like mirages
in a white fossil sea of aspirin

that dulls the saw
between deeper jacknifed vertebrae

this great grey sleep of bone
sucks me dry


(painting, Salvatore Dali: My Wife, Nude, Contemplating Her Own Flesh Becoming Stairs,
Three Vertebrae of a Column, Sky and Architecture, 1945)


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Gift from Hubble

But enough of Anna Nicole Smith and NATO and Sunni's and Britney's hair. Enough of consumer price raises. Enough of snow, and Baghdad and Scooter and nuclear goals. Contemplate this for a few minutes. Take a few deep breaths, and center yourself.

"THE DAY WILL COME WHEN, AFTER HARNESSING SPACE, THE WINDS, THE TIDES, AND GRAVITATION, WE SHALL HARNESS FOR GOD THE ENERGIES OF LOVE, AND ON THAT DAY, FOR THE SECOND TIME IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD, WE SHALL HAVE DISCOVERED FIRE."

--Pierre Teilhard de Chardin



(CLICK IT! You'll be glad you did!)
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Rose Parade

In case you missed this: a float depicting GWB being spanked by the Statue of Liberty in yesterday's Rose Monday parade in Mainz, Germany. (It's about time somebody did).

Sunday Post: A Welsh Church in the Northwest

Ein Tad yn y nefoedd,
sancteiddier dy enw,
deled dy deyrnas,
gwneler dy ewyllys,
ar y ddaear fel yn y nef.
Dyro inni heddiw ein bara beunyddiol;
a maddau inni ein troseddau,
fel yr ym ni wedi maddau
i'r rhai a droseddodd yn ein herbyn;
a phaid a'n dwyn i brawf,
ond gwared ni rhag y r un drwg.

Oherwydd eiddot ti yw'r deyrnas
a'r gallu a'r gogoniant
am byth. Amen.


(The Lord's Prayer)

PT: February Thaw

The sky is grey everywhere except toward the north. There the winter sun breaks like a wound, red as pyrocantha that grow wild beside the gate. Firethorns, we like to call them. The south wind blows warm for stripped February, starlings come and go, pushed leaflike up and down the steep sky--blustering black Furies. The raucous birds (drunk with berries) fill our Chinese Elm, its branches black and bare as upturned roots. We lean our bicycles, watch the sky clear, and dry ourselves of rain, kick off our shoes, forgiving the wet, the water, perfumed droplets, scattered pearls that gleam on hands and smiles like deep rose gems.

(Prose poetry)

I LOVE YOU !

To all the friends who live in my computer:

To love is to admire with the heart,
and to admire is to love with the mind.

-T Gautier


I love and admire you all!

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