dVerse Poetics – My Inspiration

T S Eliot photographed by his friend and correspondent Ottoline Morrell. public domain image

“Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.”  T.S.Eliot

Today, I have the happy task of being bartender at dVerse Poetics Pub. This means I get to talk with all the folk in the community who make comments. I also get to choose a prompt. We often speak of someone who inspired us to write. I am asking our community to write about the poet and their poem that inspired them to begin writing. I am also asking them to take the prompt farther and if possible, write the poem in the style of the inspiring poet. My inspiration is T.S. Eliot. I took this poem from one of my few surviving notebooks wherein I wrote my poems years ago. This is from January 1965. It is full of all the angst and alientation of a teenager at odds with the world around her. And it is a bland imitation of several of Eliot’s poems.

January
January – the dark month
The month of moonless nights
And stars hidden by clouds.

Smoke tasting fog – piles of grey ash
In cans on the sidewalk
And the ash men come –
Reaping what the fire has tasted and left behind –
Ash days
Grey and dry – trees cremated to warm
Those flower folk hidden behind lace curtains
And wide porches sipping tea and eating cakes
Made by those below –
Silent in their movements
And almost as invisible
As the skeleton of an oak leaf –
But visible if the flower people gaze hard enough
But who only sip their tea and eat their cakes
who only look away.

A little dog trots on the sidewalk –
He alone has someplace to go.

Two men in black coats walk
Towards him and he shies away from them.
He jumps on the steps leading up
The grey walk to the big house
And whines as the men pass by.
Black hats black coats
Twins of darkness on this empty street
The flower folks entombed behind
Long panes of glass.

In a country graveyard by a long deserted church
With dirt as red as blood
I saw neglected graves and on one was set in a stone
A photograph behind smashed glass.
I assume it was the person buried in the blood red dirt.

Buried behind a pane of glass
In the blood red dirt of January
I sit by a dead fire and sip tea and eat cake.

 

Twofer Thursday – Kick it….

This post is especially for my friend Huntie over at Chasing Rabbitholes and for the other Bitten Babes – and you know who you are as well.

We’ve had hard times, sad times, bad times. Let’s put a smile back in style…

For just a few minutes, step back, breathe, relax and shake that booty. Go on girls…rock it. Hugs and love to the other onnabugeisha in the Bitten crew.

Monday Musings

Keep away from people who belittle your ambitions.
Small people always do that,
But the really great make you feel
that you too, can become great.
Mark Twain

You must always remember…
You are Braver than you believe,
Stronger than you seem,
And smarter than you think.
Christopher Robin

 

Monday Musings: Be thankful in small things

Wounded Warriors – Thank you – Faith of the Heart

I volunteer at our local Veteran’s Hospital.  It has been my privilege and honor to be of service to our service personnel who have been wounded in the line of duty.  It has been heartbreaking and heart lifting.   I can do so little and really, it is they who have helped me.

We all have our journeys and wounds – some wounds take longer to heal than other.  But I have learned from these courageous warriors, it is your attitude that is what is important – how you define your pain and suffering and healing rather than letting the wounds define you.  They encourage each other and when necessary, tell one another to get off their pity pot and start going forward.  Wow.

Several years ago, a new saga in the Star Trek mythology came on TV – Enterprise – the pre-history of the original Star Trek most of us know.  I was immediately captivated by it and not just because the luscious Scott Bakula (a long time favorite) was the star of the show.  The theme music, when first I heard it in the opening credits, brought tears flowing down my cheeks.  Faith of the Heart….the words said it all to me about my journey, pain, hard times, renewal, faith, healing.  A few Sundays ago, it was my time to do the special music for church service.  After much thought of so many other songs, I chose this.  I chose it because it is a true song. It says much about my journey of faith as well as my journey of life.

One day on one of the wards, one of the guys was having a hard time with his physical and emotional healing.  He had lost both legs below the knee and one arm at the shoulder.  He had been working so hard and today, he was so tired of it all.  I was sitting, helping a young man with his lunch when one of the other men, began singing this song.  In just a moment, it was taken up by the others.  Obviously, this song rang true to them all.  I sat there awed and humbled by these men – they were wounded for us and now, they were at their most vulnerable and yet, also at their strongest.  The young man was encouraged and began to sing along.  Afterwards, they all applauded and cheered and continued on with their healing process.  No whining, no blame, no holding back –

The video with the words is below.  As you continue your journey in life, remember these words, remember these heroes, remember: it is your choice how you heal or don’t. It is your choice how you move forward or stay stuck.  They were wounded for us, but they were healed for themselves and those they love.

Thank you again to all our service members, wounded, healed, whole, deployed, at home, retired…God bless and keep you every one.

Live….From New York – it’s….

Actually, it’s just me, tiptapping on my tablet with my trusty stylus.  Some kind of evil surreal virus has destroyed my computer and until money from heaven falls, I will be posting from, answering and sending emails from, doing my homework for school on – my tablet.

I feel as if I am in the Dark Ages pushing my quill slowly across the parchment or, even farther back, chipping out weird little images from stone.  Tap, tap, taptaptap…

I am going to try to catch up answering a ton of emails, reading a ton of posts, maybe doing a post – sometime this weekend, after I have studied and done homework – I already feel inundated after just a week of school!!! And hyper, did I mention that?

But before I start in hyperdrive this morning and after several cups of coffee, I am going to go outside and indulge in the ancient art of making a chain of clover blossoms – one for my poor crazed head and the other to wear around my neck – the Princess of Clover chains before I change into my costume of Court Scholar and what is more likely, Court Jester.  SamCat the Ripper thinks perchance I may be a Chew Toy, but at this point, my vote is on Jester.

 

Back step singing and Starting back to school

Tomorrow I start back to school for the first time in ages.  I have my books:  Pharmaceutical Calculations, Pharmacy Law, and Pharmaceutical Chemistry, Compounding and Drug Dispensing.  I am pumped. I am scared.

As usual, I can’t sleep.  When in doubt, I often look to music.  During the Christmas holidays, at 3:00 am in the morning, as I looked up at the stars and connected with their Maker, I threw back my arms and belted out the Halleluia Chorus.  I am no singer, but what I lack in expertise and tone, I make up for with joy and jumping up and down and waving my arms.

Tonight, I already feel the song to the stars in my soul:  Nessun Dorma from Puccini’s unfinished opera, Turandot.  This version is by Pavaroti, live in Paris.  The English translation is below.  I find many of the words apt and the tune always makes my heart feel too big for my chest.  So often I have sat on my back steps and watched it snow, felt the rain fall upon me, wrapped myself in my grandmother’s quilt while frost gathered on the grass, listened to cicada, inhaled the incredible aroma of honeysuckle. So many poems written as I sat alone and felt the world move around me.

Not everyone is into opera, but I think we all are into living our lives fully and with passion.  Close your eyes, let the incredible beauty of the melody enter you, let the inspirational power of the human voice lift you to the stars….and please, don’t think of me singing this when you do. I want you to soar, not bunny hop!

Nobody shall sleep!… 
Nobody shall sleep! 
Even you, o Princess, 
in your cold room, 
watch the stars, 
that tremble with love and with hope.
But my secret is hidden within me,
my name no one shall know… 
No!…No!… 
On your mouth I will tell it when the light shines.
And my kiss will dissolve the silence that makes you mine!…
(No one will know his name and we must, alas, die.)
Vanish, o night! 
Set, stars! Set, stars! 
At dawn, I will win! I will win! I will win!

Friday Fun…Spontaneous Acts of Grocery Aisle Dancing.

My husband and I love to dance. We are big on ballroom dancing and we really like it when we can indulge in spontaneous acts of dance.

Several years ago, we were both of us tired out from a mutually hard day at work and both of us had worked after hours. We stopped at a local grocery chain to pick up a few necessary items. The store was almost empty. We were moseying down an aisle just sort of in a tired trance. At one end of the aisle was a hugely pregnant woman looking at cereal. Her husband was at the opposite end of the aisle looking at protein bars. The muzak was ubiquitous as usual but then, out of the blue, Every Breath You Take, began drifting around us. The man came sashaying down the aisle as if we were invisible. Within a few feet of his wife, he held out his arms and began crooning, “Come to me, my melon belly baby”. She went to him and he enfolded her and they began to waltz slowly to the music.

My husband and I stood entranced. The couple was not even vaguely self-conscious. When the song ended, they continued with their shopping and went down the next aisle. My husband and I were delighted and no longer tired. When the muzak version of Shake Your Booty started up, we were in the cleaning products aisle, all by ourselves. We looked at each other and in a blink, we were quick stepping up and down the aisle.

This has become a regular thing with us now. The last act of aisle dancing was last month, in another grocery, at 9:00 am in the morning. A couple of people were in the aisle with us, but we had plenty of room to Mambo to “Love is in the Air” – a favorite and even on Muzak, a darned good dance number. After a moment, a woman and her little girl joined us – twirling and bouncing with much laughter.  We so love dancing and especially with each other.  Ballroom dancing is a vital part of our romance with each other.  Tango, Paso Doble, Mambo, Waltz….each dance an expression of love and joy in each other.  And the spontaneous dance – I wish more people did these spontaneous acts of love and fun.

“Love is in the Air” is one of our favorites and is on a regular rotation in our Kitchen/Ballroom.  We stopped worrying about people thinking we were crazy long ago.  Love is in the air, in the grocery aisle, in the hardware store, in Walmart, in the apothecary, in the parking lot…

Love is in the air everywhere I look around – Love is in the air every sight and every sound – And I don’t know if I’m being foolish – I don’t know if I’m being wise – But it’s something that I must believe in – And it’s there when I look in your eyes. . . . (songwriters, Pennington/Lemaire, Performed by Paul Young). The dance sequence is from one of our favorite movies, Strictly Ballroom.

So again I say to you, let’s dance!

 

Make Every Moment Count

We do not remember days,
We remember moments.

Cesare Pavese

Photo courtesy of Wiki Free Images

Baby birds chirping – doodle ku – haiku

momochidori.
girl in blue waits for baby
birds to fly in spring sky.

I doodle – you ku   I stumbled upon this quite by accident.  Daily a doodle on Yay Words http://yaywords.wordpress.com/

Daily a doodle and you write a short poem – haiku, tanka, senryu, etc, less than 10 lines.  I sez to myself, what a lovely way to stretch my brain!  You have the link, please go check it out for yourself.  Nice doodles, nice poems springing forth in the comment section.  I may not do it everyday, based upon my workload and life, but I shall certainly enjoy it while it lasts.  Nice blog.

Awakening

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# 1 on the List

 

A co-worker has a list posted outside of her cubicle.  It is full of sayings, you know the kind.  But #1 is “Life isn’t fair, but it is still good.”   Well, actually, sometimes it isn’t but hopefully, it will be.  A few weeks ago, I read a post on another blog that broke my heart.  I am a sucker for the helpless and if the helpless is a child or an animal, my heart bleeds forever.

 There was a posting about a street dog who although sick and suffering, was tortured by “humans” because the dying dog bothered them.  Hello?  Bothered them???  My rage turned to pain and then grief and I am still grieving for that dog.  I will grieve until I lose my memory.  I have been thinking since then, that what causes us pain, what causes us to pray to God for mercy for those who only He remembers, is what makes us truly human.  See blog at:  http://globalinfo4all.wordpress.com/   (good stuff here but sometimes, it will break your heart – but always inspiring.  Check it out)

 Let me go back 15 years.  I was working for a state agency and my job was to approve and authorize hospice care.  I mainly dealt with persons who were HIV+.  I also volunteered for a local AIDS network who helped those who were disabled by the disease or dying by getting their groceries, caring for their pets, emptying their garbage, changing their diapers….holding their hands and loving them because many of them had been disowned by their families and their….dying bothered them. 

 I was contacted, off the record, by a policeman who was acquainted with me.  He told me they had hauled in a homeless, 13 year old HIV+ girl.  Her mother had died several months earlier of AIDS.  The girl’s grandmother grudgingly took them in but the girl took care of her mom – food, clothing, sick care, everything.  She had contracted HIV by being raped by her mother’s HIV+ boyfriend.  The grandmother was ashamed of them and turned her back because their illness and dying bothered her.  When the mother died, the grandmother turned the girl out on the street.

 The policeman had noticed the girl off and on and how her condition was deteriorating.  He contacted me to see if I could help.  I went to the juvenile facilities to see the girl – thin, dirty, tired, frightened, covered with sores and obviously picked at/abused by passersby who were bothered by her dying.  I arranged for her to be taken to a children’s hospice.  I then stayed with her until they came to get her.  I washed her face and hands, combed her hair, hugged her.  She melted into my arms and then she asked,  “am I going to die?”.  I pulled her closer and said, “Yes, you are going to die.  But you will be taken care of.  You will be clean and treated kindly and loved.  And when you die, you will be mourned and you will be missed.”  Three weeks late, she died at the hospice. 

 So, life was not good for the dog or the girl.  In some ways, though, it did get better although they went through hell to get to something better.  The dog died and was given a decent burial by a group that cared for the sick, smelly, scabby animal and tried to do the right thing for it.  Anna died but she was loved. 

 To this day, I mourn and grieve for her.  She has been added to that special place in my heart for those whom everyone except God has forgotten.  She lives there with the dog and other animals and people who shouldn’t have been treated as they were – some of whom died alone.

 So what makes us human?  What adds greatness to our humanity?  That room in our heart for those mourned by maybe, only us.