Lesson for the New Year

 

Once I  locked myself

in a broken-down blue refrigerator we had stored in the cellar:

clasp hinges rust-crusted,

wobbly ineffectual handle, chrome on blue enamel.

I crowded myself

between tiny tin icebox and tiny crisper

after taking out both tiny shelves

and stacking them neatly against the fridge’s empty back,

and I slammed the door shut on me

by shoving it open hard

so that it bounced back, sealed,

when it hit its hinge-limit.

Then it had nothing in it but me and dead air

and I played by myself in the dark with its echoes

till my backside started to ache

and, trying to move,

I realized there was no getting out.

Then I quit singing and pretending to hide.

When I shoved on the door in my panic

one of the hinges broke;

though the latch was still caught

one corner of the door hung apart

and I put my mouth to the hole

and yelled for my mother till I was hoarse.

So I didn’t suffocate after all.

How foolish we are—

we, playing in the dark—

to think there are two second chances.

By Julie Juchau, Ensign, Jan. 1975, inside front cover

Awash

I have the grace of a wave—

I’m constantly tumbling over myself

Dotty Drake

Himno Cotidiano (A Daily Hymn) Gabriela Mistral

On this new day                                     

Thou givest me,

Oh Lord                  

Give me my portion of happiness               

And help me to improve.

Give me the gifts of health,              

faith, ardour and audacity;                

the companions of youth;                          

and the harvest of truth,           

reflection and wisdom;                        

the companions of old age.

Happy am I, if at the end of the day,       

I carry with me one enmity less.           

If my steps are guided by one light more,

and I have overcome one more error in my ways.

And if, for my rudeness,                                

no one has shed a tear,                                   

and if, someone was happy          

because of a kindness I showed them.

(segment) by Gabriela Mistral,  Chilean poet.

(my translation)

En este nuevo día
que me concedes, ¡oh, Señor!
dame mi parte de alegría
y haz que consiga ser mejor.

Dame tú el don de la salud,
la fe, el ardor, la intrepidez,
séquito de la juventud;
y la cosecha de verdad,
la reflexión, la sensatez,
séquito de la ancianidad.

Dichoso yo, si al fin del día,
un odio menos llevo en mí;
si una luz más mis pasos guía
y si un error más yo extinguí.

Y si por la rudeza mía
nadie sus lágrimas vertió,
y si alguien tuvo la alegría
que mi ternura le ofreció.

(segmento) por Gabriela Mistral, poeta chilena

It ought to plain

How little you gain

By getting excited and vexed

You’ll always be late

For the previous train

And always in time for the next

My Gift

What can I give him

Poor as I am;

If I were a shepherd,

I would give Him a lamb.

If I were a wise man

I would do my part.

But what can I give Him

I  will give Him my heart

Christina Rossetti

The Meaning of Christmas

Christmas, like the Bible,

Means varied things to man—

To some a reawakening

Of God’s momentous plan.

To some a day of gladness,

A special time and place,

To give a gift, to greet a friend

Or wear a smiling face

But some there are, who seem to me,

Forever set apart;

Who through the years serenely walk

With Christmas in their heart

Evelyn R. Liddell

Extracts From "Journey of the Magi"

"A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter."
.....
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
....
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.
....
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
....
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

.....All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This: were we lead all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I have seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different;

....

We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
T.S.Eliot

painting "The Magi" by James Tissot, 1894

A Christmas Tree

Star,

if you are

a love compassionate

you will walk with us this year.

we face a glacial distance, who are here

huddled

at your feet.

William Burford

In 1976, in grade 11 Office Practice class, your mom learned to manually center typed work on an old typewriter with this poem

The Shepherd Left Behind

"The hour is late," the shepherds said,

   "And the miles are long to wind;
Do you stay here with the sheep, instead!"
   And they left the lad behind.
He heard their feet in the dark ravine,
   The drop of the sheepfold bars,
And then blue stillness flowed between
   The huddled sheep and stars.
He sat him down to wait for dawn,
    His crook across his knees,
And thought of the shepherds moving on
   Under the olive trees.
Herding his flocks in Palestine
   He thought, that lad of old,
How some must follow the Angel's sign
   And some must tend the fold.
And as he mused he took his pipe
   'Twas a shepherd's pipe he had
And there, while the frosty stars grew ripe
   And shone on the shepherd lad,
The first sweet Christmas carol twined
   From the willow's slender stem-
Blown by the shepherd left behind
   To a Babe in Bethlehem.

Mildred Plew Meigs 

picture is part of the painting "Procession of the Magi"
by Benozzo Gossoli
in the Capella dei Maggi

for a panoramic (but small) view http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/benozzo-gozzoli/procession-of-the-magi-1461

From "Definition of Poetry"

Once

I took a course in aesthetics:

Three hours credit

If I could learn

What a poem was.

A poem was

“the record of the best and happiest moments of the best and happiest minds”;

“The best words in the best order”;

“A criticism of life.”

But what was “best”?

....

A poem was metered, rhythmic, regular—

Except free verse.

A poem rhymed—

But not blank verse.

A poem had consonance, assonance, alliteration, onomatopoeia—

Or none of these.   

a poem used a “higher concentration of imagery” than prose.

“But how high is high?

.....

Finally we were told, “A poem should not mean, but be.”

Be what?

To answer the question for myself

I wrote a term paper

“A Definition of Poetry.”

The instructor gave it an “A”

But I never wrote

A poem.

Lynn Z. Bloom

Butler University,  Indianapolis

Why is There So Much Swearing on the Internet?

It's like this, says Katie

"Swearing is like salt in a salt shaker; a little bit adds flavour.
But you're unscrewing the lid and dumping the whole thing all over the place!"

You Speak a Little Nahuatl Every Day

chipotl = chipotle
ahuacatl = avocado
coyotl = coyote
tomatl = tomato
xocolatl = chocolate (remember x is pronounced "ch")
plus all the place names in Mexico like Popocapetl and Tlaxcala
(Holy Toluca!)

These words came from the language of the Aztecs (Nahuatl) to Spanish as the
Conquistadores used their words for the things they found in  New Spain.
and then from Spanish to English.

I also find it hilarious that they had their own expressions and memes,
(according to this great website on words borrowed from Nahuatl
http://www.kith.org/logos/words/lower2/qquetzal.html

"ayoppa in piltihua, ayoppa in tlacatihua" means precisely: YOLO (you live only once)

that's a laughing Aztec

blackguard = blaggard = blagger

The word is blackguard (pronounced blaggard) and means rogue, villain, or dodgy character.
The term seems to date from the 1500s but became used more frequently in literature in the 1800s.

Sometimes spelled as it sounds blaggard
or just blagger, both of which are non-standard spellings.

Most likely originating in the "brigade" of scullions, kitchen knaves and shoe shine boys who roved
the streets making a little money on the side in unscrupulous ways. The term blackguard was eventually applied to the criminal class.

Simile vs Metaphor

"I drew in great lungfuls of biting air, blowing it out again in little silver trumpets of condensation."
(metaphor)

"Tendrils of raw fog floated up from the ice like agonized spirits departing their bodies"
(simile)

"The cold air was a hazy writhing mist."
(metaphor)

"Up and down the long gallery I flew, the silver blades of my skates making the sad scraping sound of a butcher's knife being sharpened energetically on stone."
(that's  imagery, --except with sound)

from I Am Half-Sick of Shadows  by Alan Bradley

2nd photo from tuckamoredew dot wordpress

Extracts from "archy interviews a pharaoh"

yes i am sad
says the majestic mackerel
i am as sad
as the song
of a soudanese jackal
who is wailing for the blood red
moon he cannot reach and rip
.......

on what are you brooding
with such a wistful
wishfulness
there in the silences
confide in me
my imperial pretzel
says i
............

my little pest
says he
you must be respectful
in the presence
of a mighty desolation
little archy
forty centuries of thirst
look down upon you

i am as dry as the heart
of a sand storm
at high noon in hell
i have been lying here
and there
for four thousand years
with silicon in my esophagus
as gravel in my gizzard
thinking
thinking
thinking
of beer

By Don Marquis, in "archy and mehitabel," 1927.   
When you remember this was written during Prohibition in the US, the references to lack of drink become funnier.  Don Marquis said “Drinking used to be a mighty commonplace matter; but Prohibition has brought a smack of adventure into it that makes it really enjoyable.”

"In other words...their fundamental design flaws are completely hidden by their superficial design flaws"

from "So Long and Thanks For All the Fish"
by Douglas Adams

Extract from "Paul Bunyan"

He rode through the woods on a big blue ox,
He had fists as hard as choppin' blocks,
Five hundred pounds and nine feet tall . . . that's Paul.

Talk about workin', when he swung his axe
You could hear it ring for a mile and half.
Then he'd yell "Timber!" and down she'd fall . . . for Paul

..................

But the next time you hear a "Timber!" yell
That sound like it's comin' from the pits of hell,
Then a weird and devilish ghostly wail
Like somebody choppin' on the devil's tail,
Then a shout, a call, a crash, a fall--
That ain't no mortal man at all . . . that's Paul!

by Shel Silverstein

Extracts from "A Legend of Paul Bunyan" Paul S Bourinot

He came,
striding
over the mountain,
the moon slung on  his back,
like a pack,
a great pine
stuck on his shoulder
swayed as he walked,
as he talked
to his blue ox
Babe;
.....
with one step
he was in the next valley
dragging the moon after,
the stars
tangled,
spangled
in the branches of the great pine.

And as he left,
he whistled in the dark
like a far-off train
....
and then, the sounds
fading,
dying,
were lost
in the churn of night, --
and all was still.

by Paul S. Bourinot

Canadian Poet 1893-1969 Best known for children’s verse

image:  Paul Bunyan strapped slabs of bacon to his feet to grease the cookhouse griddle for hungry lumberjacks

"They were regarded as 'right-thinking people' 

who are largely  recognizable as being right-thinking people 

by the mere fact that they hold this view"

from "So Long and Thanks for All the Fish" by Douglas Adams
photo from science daily

"It's a forgery so great it should be worshipped with prayers and gongs and incense"

from "A Bridge of Birds" by Barry Hughart

"If rudeness was not attributable to ignorance,
it could be taken as a sure sign
that one was speaking to a member of the aristocracy."

"It always surprises me after a family row to find that the world outdoors has remained the same..
Perhaps the wind blows anger away."

from "A Red Herring Without Mustard" by Alan Bradley

Cheers

The frogs and the serpents each had a football team,

And I heard their cheerleaders in my dream:

“Bilgewater, bilgewater,” called the frog,

“Bilgewater, bilgewater,

Sis, boom, bog!

Roll ‘em off the log,

Slog ‘em in the sog,

Swamp ‘em, swamp’em,

Muck mire quash!”

“Sisyphus, Sisyphus,” hissed the snake,

“Sibilant, syllabub,

Syllable-loo-ba-lay,

Scylla and Charybdis,

Sumac, asphodel,

How do you spell Success?

With an S-S-S!”

By Eve Merriam

photo from icanhazcheeseburger

"We always want to love the recipients of our charity...but it is not necessary.
Indeed, it is sometimes not possible."

from "A Red Herring Without Mustard" by Alan Bradley

"Many of the 'defects' people have where
people deviate from rational behaviour,
you can attribute to either
the complexity of the problem
or simple rules of thumb
which usually work,
but occasionally backfire"

Steve Leavitt from Freakonomics Podcast

"Those who are regular followers of the doings of Arthur Dent
may have received an impression of his character and habits which,

while it includes the truth,
and of course nothing but the truth,
falls somewhat short in its composition of
'the whole truth'
in all its glorious aspects."

from "So Long and Thanks for All the Fish" by Douglas Adams

The qualities that matter most have less to do with I.Q.
and more to do with character:
skills like
grit,
curiosity,
conscientiousness
and
optimism"

from "How Children Succeed:  Grit, Curiosity, and the Hidden Power of Character by Paul Tough

"All of life is like a swinging rope bridge over the waterfalls;
the secret to crossing is not to be afraid,
do not be afraid at all."

from "The Boy Who Stole the Leopard's Spots"
by Tamar Meyers

"There's nothing that a liar hates more than finding that another liar has lied to them"

from "A Red Herring Without Mustard" by Alan Bradley

When the speaker has a mental reservation about a statement they are making, (a lie) they may cross their fingers behind their back (so the hearer doesn't see) 
The gesture is from early christian times, or perhaps earlier.  It is said to be reminiscent of the cross and meant to ward off retribution for the lie.

"It bothers me that I depend on so many things that operate on principles I do not remotely understand, and which might not even be real."

"The sun isn't even up yet, and I have already, using hand-held technology with one hand, wasted more time than my father did in an entire day...and I am just getting started."

from Dave Barry's Greatest Hits by Dave Barry

Grandma's Prayer

I pray that risen from the dead,
I may in glory stand--
A crown, perhaps, upon my head,
But a needle in my hand.

I've never learned to sing or play,
So let no harp be mine
From birth until my dying day,
Plain sewing's been my line.

Therefore, accustomed to the end
To plying useful stitches
I'd be content if asked to mend
The little angel's britches.

By Eugene Field from "Poems of Childhood"

Los ancianos

They hold hands

as they walk with slow steps.
Careful together they cross the plaza
both slightly stooped, bodies returning to the land,
he in faded khaki and straw hat,
she wrapped in soft clothes, black
robozo round her head and shoulders.

Tourists in halter tops and shorts
pose by flame trees and fountains,
but the old couple walks step by step
on the edge.
Even in the heat, only their wrinkled
hands and faces show.  They know
of moving through a crowd at their own pace.

I watch him help her
off the curb and I smell love
like dried flowers, old love
of holding hands with one man for fifty years.

By Pat Mora from Borders, winner of the Southwest Book Award, published by Arte Publico Press at the University of Houston,1986

ancianos:  old people
rebozo:  shawl worn over head and shoulders, worn by Latinas

photo from flickr, World's Best Photos of Michoacan

They Are All Brothers and Sisters, Every One"

I dream of meeting our Hopi ancestors,

and we sit together and talk about the

time that will come—the time when all of us

are together and the waters of the

rivers are full, and the sun has warmed the

cold part of the world, and all the people are

sitting in a huge circle and they are all

brothers and sisters, everyone.

Natalie, 8 years old. 

"Act!" from "Aztec Thought and Culture"

Act!  Cut wood, work the land,

Plant cactus, sow maguey,

You shall have drink, food, clothing

With this you shall stand straight

With this you shall live.

For this you shall be spoken of, praised.

In this manner you will show yourself to your parents and relatives.

Someday you shall tie yourself to a skirt and blouse *

Is she going to live off the air?

You are the support, the remedy.

You are the eagle, the tiger.

Andrés de Olmos 

translated by Garibay and quoted in "Aztec Thought and Culture," 

University of Oklahoma Press 1963

* refers to the Aztec marriage ceremony in which the woman's blouse and the man's cape were knotted together 

"the fish broke to the surface, shaking its gills furiously before diving in a frothy sliver gash"

from "Double Whammy"

by Carl Hiaasen

"Hurt?" she said,
"no sir, at that speed you just flat-out die."

from "Double Whammy"
by Carl Hiaasen

"This was always a problem when dealing with the chronically unravelled"

Double Whammy
by Carl Hiaasen

Mold vs Mould

same word as 

in the US :  only MOLD (moldy, molded)
the bread is dry and moldy
the mold on damp walls
the cookies were formed by a mold.

Outside the US (everybody else) only MOULD
the bread is mouldy
the mould on damp walls
the bread was baked in a mould.

and Canada, again, in the middle
MOULD is preferred but some publications use the american "mold"

Well, that clears it up

Louis Riel Fought for Human Rights

the most well-known image of Louis Riel 

"I have been quarrelling with an insane and irresponsible Government."

"In a little while it will be all over. 

We may fail. 

But the rights for which we contend will not die.”

"I believe by what I suffered for 15 years, 

by what I have done for Manitoba 

and the people of the North-West 

that my words are worth something"

https://www.historicacanada.ca/content/heritage-minutes/louis-riel

The Métis are mixed American Indian and European ancestry.  In the 1800s these French-speaking Catholics, made up 89% of the inhabitants of the area  now known as Manitoba.

Fearing they would lose their lands like so many First Nations, they formed "The Red River Community" and petitioned the Government of Canada for rights to their land and wanted to join the confederation as an independent colony.

In 1870 the Manitoba Act accepted the Métis proposals and recognized the Red River Colony as the Province of Manitoba.  (The Manitoba Act)  Only 3 months later the Government at Ottawa sent troops and settlers to the area, expelling many of the Métis and Louis Riel fled to the U.S.  (He returned a little later ) 

By 1885, The Métis who had fled to the Northwest Territories formed a provisional government led by Riel to resist continued pressure from settlers and further military incursions into their new lands. 

"The Northwest Rebellion" was crushed swiftly, Riel was tried in July 1885 and hanged in November.  

Manitoba was then settled by European immigrants, the Métis were expelled or exterminated. In 1890, French was banned, and all French and Catholic institutions were closed. 

Summary 

To the British colonists he was a traitor 

To the French Canadians he was a martyr, defending a French Catholic minority

To the Métis he was a hero, a leader, and an expert representative

To western Canadians he still symbolizes the resistance of the little man against the government

Modern commentators depict him as a leader who resisted British colonial rule,

and note that he summarizes underlying tensions in Canada to this day: English versus French, Protestant versus Catholic, white versus native, and east versus west.

summary ideas gleaned from viewamerica.net

In 1992 the Canadian parliament declared Louis Riel  "The Father of Manitoba" and in 2008 a holiday in February was declared Louis Riel Day. 

Are all human rights battles similar?

She Meant to Say I Love You

"I love you"  sounded like inertia
"please" sounds like sacrifice
...
"she could ...pick me out of a crowd just by the smell of my shirt" I knew she meant to say "I love you"

From Family Portrait By Sherman Alexie
from the Lone Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven

Sherman Alexie

"...There are so many rich people who don't share their shit. They're like spoiled little ten-year-old bullies on the playground. They hog the monkey bars and the slide and the seesaw. And if you complain even a little bit, if you try to get just one spin on the merry-go-round, the bullies beat the shit out of you.”

from Flight by Sherman Alexie

Ok, my mother doesn't read this blog so I will go ahead and say it:
 I love Sherman Alexie's work.
I found The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven in the 90s, and enjoyed it so much I kept reading. Mom would never read his work because he uses bad words, possibly for the shock effect, but possibly because that is the way so many people would say that very thing.  He has lately been in the public view defending this very kind of language and subject matter in young adult literature, saying it's the world in which many young folks already live.

The window wipers smeared an omelette of insects across the thick glass"

from "The Merry Mysogynist" by Colin Cotterill

"In the most exact sense of the words,
it was the damndest thing you ever saw!"

From "The Cat that Went to Trinity"
by Canadian author Robertson Davies from his book "High Spirits" 1983

a "mock-gothic" short story, and "a kind of gruesome homage to Frankenstein"
quotes from selectedshorts.org where you can hear a delightful retelling
http://ec.libsyn.com/p/a/9/e/a9e9fa4a8890bf9c/PCast_SS201305.mp3?d13a76d516d9dec20c3d276ce028ed5089ab1ce3dae902ea1d01c08430d3c85a5586&c_id=6312798

A Child's Poem for Remembrance Day

Soldiers and sailors and airmen too
fought for us across the sea
brave and unselfish, kind, and true
Keeping Canada free!

I'll wear a poppy on Remembrance Day
To show I'm glad of what they did for me.

God bless our country as a prayer I pray
God keep Canada free!

We learned this song in grade 4, in 1978, funny the things that stick with you.  
During all our school years we brought change to school to buy exactly these red poppies the Canadian Legion brought to each class.  We wore them during the morning, and played with them all afternoon, and lost them before we got home, usually.

Pogo Possum on Armistice Day

Here in the U.S, Armistice Day turned into Veteran's Day, and then to a weekend of excellent sales.
Pogo's remark seems to echo most people's sentiments

I discovered Pogo Possum about 1982, and still read and love the silliness.  The political situations still repeat themselves so that Pogo always seem new.

Flanders Fields, yes, it's all over the web, but this one has a little history with it

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow 
Between the crosses row on row, 
That mark our place; and in the sky 
The larks, still bravely singing, fly 
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago 
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, 
Loved and were loved, and now we lie 
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe: 
To you from failing hands we throw 
The torch; be yours to hold it high. 
If ye break faith with us who die 
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow 
In Flanders fields.


John Mc Crae  was a surgeon during the Boer War and was attached to the 1st Field Artillery Brigade, in the Canadian Army during WWI .  The fields referred to are battlefields in Flanders Belgium, and McCrae remarks how quickly poppies grew over the graves of the fallen.  The poem was written early in the war while sentiment was still somewhat romantic about "The War to End All Wars"  and before  fighting forces and civilians became disillusioned as both sides dug 400 miles of trenches.
This poem is popularly believed to have been written in 1915, after he witnessed the death of and presided over the funeral of his friend. 
People occasionally interpret it as a pro-war poem although it is often read as an anti-war poem.

"persons of merely aesthetic bias and training, like myself, should be silent in the presence of men of science, who know best about everything"

From "The Cat that Went to Trinity
by Canadian author Robertson Davies from his book "High Spirits" 1983

The Car Was Towed

"I went down to the impound lot

Because my car was towed

I didn’t see the “No Parking Signs”

I guess I shoulda knowed."

by Valerie, when her car was towed.

...and she doesn't even OWN a car :)

Earle Birney comments on Cartagena

In "Cartegena de Indias, 1962," Earle Birney, the Canadian poet, 
(see my blog posts Oct 9 - 12 of 2013) 
walks through a tropical market and sees himself through South American eyes, that is, incredibly rich, a tourist from outer space. Yet the inhabitants of "this rancid disarray" love and honour their local poet Luis Carlos Lopez. The Canadian poet says, "I …am seldom read by my townsmen," envies Luis Carlos Lopez, and loves the people whom he celebrated:

“I love the whole starving,

cheating,

poetry-reading,

lot of you.     

Most of all

for  throwing  me  the  shoes  of  deadman

Luis

to walk me back

into your brotherhood”

"deadman Luis" is Luis Carlos Lopez, and Earle Birney refers to the poem "A mi ciudad nativa" talked about in yesterday's blogpost.

Extract from "A mi ciudad nativa" by Luis Carlos Lopez

Cartagena

A Mi Ciudad Nativa
"Ciudad triste, ayer reina de la mar"  J.M. Heredia
…

Fuiste heroica en los años coloniales,                                                                

cuando tus hijos, águilas caudales,                                                                                       

no eran una caterva de vencejos.          

Mas hoy, plena de rancio desaliño,

bien puedes inspirar ese cariño                                                                               

que uno les tiene a sus zapatos viejos...

To my Native City

"(My) Distressed City, yesterday the Queen of the Sea"  J.M. Heredia

…

You were heroic in the colonial years

When your children, esteemed eagles

Were not so easily vanquished.

But today, full of ancient disorder

You still inspire the love

That one has for (comfortable) old shoes…

By Luis Carlos Lopez, 
A native of Cartagena (Cartagena de Indias), Colombia, the poet says he loves his city as much as he loves his comfortable shoes that take him all over the world.  Lopez is honoured by a monument of old shoes cast in bronze in the old city of Cartagena. 

Cartegena defended itself so often from pirate attacks during the colonial era that Simón Bolívar dubbed it ‘La Heroica’ (the heroic city) upon independence in 1821

(Spanish to English translation is mine)

 I have seen "rancio desaliño" translated as "rancid disarray"
but "ancient disorder" seems to communicate the affection intended.

When You're a Nerd You Can't Turn it Off

"Physicists view math in much the same way that politicians view philosophy.  You use it earnestly when you can, and you twist it to suit your own purposes when you can’t."

In an article (available on arXiv.org)

Brian J. Skinner, PhD Physics, asks when a basketball player should attempt to score early in the possession of the ball, and when the team is better off waiting for another chance.

In his own pickup basketball games, Skinner says he's always thinking whether the best player is shooting too much or whether the worst player should shoot more. "When you're a nerd, you can't turn it off."   

He also asks: What would happen if my body became 1% charged?
Answer: it would be like the planet earth colliding with the planet Saturn.

Also

"Holy Cow, I picked a bad time to start paying attention to politics again."

inukshuk

"Now the people will know we were here"

Inukshuk are stone monuments built on the tundra (above the arctic circle) by the Inuit from Alaska to Greenland and are thought to have been used as hunting and navigational aids, markers and message centres.  some are single tall rocks, but most are human-like figures.

also spelled inuksuk or inukhuk

We Would Like You to Know

part of Mural from Mexico's National Palace by Diego Rivera

We would like you to know

we are not all
docile
nor revolutionaries
but we are all survivors.
We do not all carry
zip guns, hot pistols,
steal cars.
We do know how
to defend ourselves.

We do not all have
slicked-back hair
distasteful apparel
unpolished shoes
although the economy
doesn't allow everyone
a Macy's chargecard.

We do not all pick
lettuce, run
assembly lines, clean
restaurant tables, even
if someone has to do it.

We do not all sneak
under barbed wire or
wade the Rio Grande.

These are the facts.

We would like you to know
we are not all brown.
Genetic history has made
some of us blue eyed as any
German immigrant
and as black as a descendant
of an African slave.

We never claimed to be
a homogeneous race.
We are not all victims,
all loyal to one cause,
all perfect; it is a
psychological dilemma
no one has resolved.

We would like to give
a thousand excuses
as to why we all find
ourselves in a predicament
residents of a controversial
power
how we were all caught
with our pants down
and how petroleum was going
to change all that but
you've heard it all before and
with a wink and a snicker
left us babbling amongst
ourselves.

We would like you to know
guilt or apologetic gestures
won't revive the dead
redistribute the land
or natural resources.

We are left
with one final resolution
in our own predestined way,
we are going forward.
There is no going back.

 Ana Castillo  from “My Father was a Toltec”  quoted in “Cool Salsa:  Bilingual Poems about Growing up Latino in the US, Lori Carlson, editor

The Most Terrifying Thing I Can Think Of

Travelling With Children
Happy Halloween

Must be the Season of the Witch

It must be the season of the witch
     la bruja
     la llorona
she lost her children
     and she cries
en las barrancas of industry
     her children
devoured by computers
and the gears
must be the season of  the witch.
     I hear huesos crack
in pain
     y lloros
la bruja pangs
     sus hijos han olvidado
la magia de durango
     y la de moctezuma
    ilhuicamina
must be the season of the witch
la bruja llora
sus hijos sufren: sin ella

Alurista from "Fiesta en Aztlán"

bruja: witch
barrancas:  canyons
magia:   magic
sus hijos han olvidado:  her children have forgotten
sus hijos sufren sin ella:  her children suffer without her
moctezuma ilhuicamina: Aztec emperor at the time of the Spanish conquest (alternate spelling)
la llorona: a Medea-like figure in Mexican folklore, having lost, drowned or killed her children (several versions exist) she can be heard at night (especially around rivers) weeping and mourning for her children.
Most Latino children have heard the threat "be good or La Llorona will come get you"

picture from blog cosas bellas 4 U

"A sky as grey as a chipped nickel"

From "The Golem and the Jinni" by Abigail Nussbaum

"a gorgonation of dreadlocks"

from "Fluke" by Christopher Moore

picture from menshairforum dot com

Look at the Scenery

"There was the Columbia River
wide and beautiful and patient;
patient like an elderly gentleman,
who, tired of the rushing and gushing
of his tributary years,
was now content to stroll peacefully along
and look at the scenery
until he reached the ocean"

from Jill Alvarado

Assault Hospitality

"You don't hurry a thinker
and you don't talk to him when he's thinking;
it's just inconsiderate."

from "Fluke" by Christopher Moore

Garrison Keillor calls it "moodism"  where every one has to be the same mood.
"Come on', they say, 'lighten up, have fun'
"Well, it makes me uneasy"

I've heard it called "intimate thuggery" --when others invade our thoughts and feelings so agressively

"The tutor's cheeks swelling with anger, almost unhorsed the small spectacles saddling his nose."

from "The Whipping Boy" by Sid Fleischman

picture is of the young Leon Trotsky wearing the kind of glasses referred to.