"Somewhere deep inside there is a sound that is mine alone, and I struggle daily to hear it and tune my life to it."

- Rachel Naomi Remen

Poem for Day 26: Hinges

Hinges

 

Washing down the Prozac

with a honeymoon

Fingertips of greed stretch out before me and I

Stop

Patient with the moment

Eating blueberries like it is the first day of my last day

on earth.

 

Patiently waiting

to find the undercover wind

that rises in my ears to

unlock the door shut tight.

 

Please-

order me some comfort

have them put it in a cup where

I can hold it

stir it and drink it down

so

slowly.

 

Forget what you have been told

I remember how to get old

And it was to regret this day

and that one.

It is to go too fast

and not too slow like everyone assumes.

Patience makes you consider

and considering

leads to exploration

in everything that now demands our time.

 

Breathing is never overrated.

Words must be carefully formed.

Thoughts need mothers to make sure they behave

when the syncopants of misconstruction come to call–

the syncopants will always come to call.

 

But when we live more with the pace of our hearts

than at the pace of the world

We can securely close perfect doors.

-J. McIntyre

"No Mind, No Face"

Who knew a Swedish band lead by a brother and a sister could be so influental on the 16-18 year old me? I have never seen this video ("Believe" K's Choice) until now (thanks for inventing non-video programming MTV). I did see K's Choice live at Lilith Fair in 1998 with my best friend at the time Corey. I miss her, wherever she is.

Poem for Day 23: Overboard

Overboard

Terrified to let the handful of vowels

and successively placed consonants out

for it will bring back the symptoms–

the repeated tossing of the self

Overboard,

the leasing of a spark of faith

in the sheave

it is blustered through.

Quiet now, breathing –

No place to go.

-J. McIntyre

Poem for Day 18: Bible Study

Bible Study

A sinus infection
lead to words
on how to
be forgiven
missed.

Terms
sit flat on the page
and trepidation rises
from not knowing
faithfully
what they mean.

Affection internally
resides–
conflicts
with the fear
of wrath.

Don’t forget–
mind over
material
and love
over light.

Poem for day 16: Bum Left Eye

Bum Left Eye

Shannon got the love of diet coke

Jordan, the love of cars

I got the twin brother twelve years late.

Both blue eyed and blonde children

so identical in 1982 and ’94.

 

We all got the squint in our face

the mint and the bum left eye.

 

These are boxes we open always in surprise

when we jut into a moment

and find

that no face on green paper

or number on a page

 

could defeat the passing on of things –

Immaterial, inward and sacred.

J. McIntyre

 

Oatmeal: Poem for Day 14

Oatmeal 

Death is just another fact

like toilet paper and gasoline

food stuffs and saying

everything will be ok

cause it will be until the end.

 

Life is that immense

bowl of oatmeal

full of that which is sometimes sweet

nutritious and lumpy.

It isn’t the most attractive thing

but it works.

 

Fatality is not something we should fear

or hide from

anymore than we would hide from water

coming out of the faucet

into a glass.

 

Fragile creatures

inside wear steady–

cowboy leather

in their character.

 

  -J. McIntyre

Because Solar Panels Make Me Hot...

http://www.off-grid.net/

I also had a dream last night that I couldn't play with a band for one night as their rhythm guitarist because I had let my skills slip for years. There have been other signs that I should be playing again. I guess I am supposed to have a guitar in my hands.

"It'll Be You and Me Up in a Tree"

"Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does." -William James
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I had this conversation with Lucas on the way back to Spokane from Colfax on Easter Sunday where I expressed my eternal frustration that not everyone in the human race wants to help others, better themselves and contiue to learn all they can throughout their lives. Maybe I am coming off as an intellectual snob, but I just feel that we as human beings should want to make a difference, grow and change. Even something as simple as Thomas Jefferson's line, "I am but a young gardener." It may just be the 195 road rage talking, but how can we, especially in today's world, only think about ourselves? Why can we not reach across divides and find compromise inside of cultures and respect that?

On a related note, I am on weeks 7 and 8 of the Beth Moore "Believing God" bible study that I am doing with a small group at Whitworth. In learning more about the Christian faith, I am in turn finding out more about how things could work in the world. I know that may not make sense but, in learning the principles (which I consider very similar to many other religion's principles--and I am saying this about Christian biblical and founding principles, not the culture of "religion"), I am finding a clearer path on which to follow in this life.

Barbara and Judy

I love seeing these two together. It is like a meeting of musical genius...well because it is. Enjoy!

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x4vpc7_garland-streisand-get-happy-happy-d_music

A Poem for Day 7

I wrote this today...Jon Sands is writing a poem everyday for National Poetry month and after read his poem "I Win" I got inspired.

Apple Cream Cheese                                             

Don’t worry about the fact that you

are apple

and she is cream cheese.

It is apples that snap in-between teeth,

while the other

just sinks

then melts–

Is there less satisfaction?

 

The last straw could be

in a drink with

the little umbrella

sinking in sand behind

windows

you never touched

never opened

never considered.

 

Contemplation wants

us to find the divine.

Does it hide in pastries

of apple?

of cream cheese?

Or does the width of devotion

never make one choose?

Wait, 

and watch ingredients stir together 

by your own hand 

to a consistency

of anticipation.

Oh Southern Hippies...

...is that an oxymoron?

"We need better government, no doubt about it. But we also need better minds, better friendships, better marriages, better communities. We need persons and households that do not have to wait upon organizations, but can make necessary changes in themselves, on their own."

-Wendell Berry

Currently reading:
To Hell with All That: (Loving and Loathing Our Inner Housewife) Library Edition
By Caitlin Flanagan

Day 5: Stacey Cassarino

I found this poem to be striking. Being fed a poem a day is a gift.

****

Goldfish Are Ordinary
by Stacie Cassarino

At the pet store on Court Street,
I search for the perfect fish.
The black moor, the blue damsel,
cichlids and neons. Something
to distract your sadness, something
you don't need to love you back.
Maybe a goldfish, the flaring tail,
orange, red-capped, pearled body,
the darting translucence? Goldfish
are ordinary, the boy selling fish
says to me. I turn back to the tank,
all of this grace and brilliance,
such simplicity the self could fail
to see. In three months I'll leave
this city. Today, a chill in the air,
you're reading Beckett fifty blocks
away, I'm looking at the orphaned
bodies of fish, undulant and gold fervor.
Do you want to see aggression?
the boy asks, holding a purple beta fish
to the light while dropping handfuls
of minnows into the bowl. He says,
I know you're a girl and all
but sometimes it's good to see.
Outside, in the rain, we love
with our hands tied,
while things tear away at us

I Am Armed With Understanding

"Whenever you are confronted with an opponent, conquer him with love."
-Gandhi

Blackbird w/o The Beatles

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
Wallace Stevens (Thanks fj)

This is the stanza I particularly liked:

VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.

You can read the whole poem here: http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/stevens-13ways.html


p.s. Its National Poetry Month. I am more than a little excited.