This speaks for itself.
Commit Random Acts
This speaks for itself.
meaning
Gifts–Isabella and Roses
For the last month DJ Knopick-Barrett, the Production Manager for Amarillo Opera, has stayed with me–her third time to do so. When she was last here, in early summer, she took hikes with my dog Isabella. I had no idea she had also photographed her. Isabella died not long before DJ arrived this time.
DJ said her goodbyes this morning and I left for work. She had a late morning flight. When I returned home from work today, I was touched nearly to the point of tears. DJ not only had photographed Isabella, she had enlarged the photo and framed it.
I Have a Dream
Fifth-three years ago today Martin Luther King, Jr. gave one of the most inspiring and telling speeches ever given by a person from this country. Today I listened to a young man, Patrick Miller, a middle school teacher here in Amarillo, give this same speech totally from memory with no notes. I feel saddened at the extent to which King’s speech still rings true, that although we have progressed tremendously, people of African descent and others of color still experience prejudice at so many levels in their lives, frequently on a daily basis.
Here I offer other quotes from Martin Luther King, Jr.:
Life’s most persistent and urgent questions is, “What are you doing for others?”
We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies.
The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad people but the silence over that by the good people.
Meet the Artist–the Writing Process and Poetry
This evening I am the artist at a local Meet the Artist event in Amarillo, Texas. This event occurs bimonthly and past presenters have included musicians, photographers, and painters. While I sing and take photos, my presentation will include reading poems from my book, “On the Rim of Wonder” and new, unpublished poems and talking about the writing process. While I honestly thought few would be interested in the latter, several people have asked me specifically to discuss this.
Although I consider myself a writer, I do not sit down on schedule and write every day like many writers. Inspiration, thoughts, come to me sporadically. I write creatively exactly like I used to write college papers, magazine articles, etc.; I look like I am doing nothing, but in reality, all these ideas run through my head and finally gel. Then I sit down and write it all at once.
The following is one of the poems from my book which I plan to read this evening:
Aging
“Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” Dylan Thomas
Custom says, “Age gracefully.”
Are they crazy, dumb.
Who wants to look
old
wrinkled
grey?
They lie.
All of them.
Who wants a broken mind
confused
unfocused
lost?
Shoot me!
Burn my bones.
Scatter them
in the desert sands
to feed
desert willow where
rattlesnakes lie
searching for shade.
Sacred
Warm summer raindrops on my face
Crimson cardinal drinking in blue birdbath
Feather grass waving in the wind
Last lavender and white iris before first frost
Cups of coffee from Chiapas at 6 in the morning
The sunning rattlesnake lying by my feet
Horses running wild and free
Facebook messages from friends far away
Waterfall’s roar after the thunderstorm
Night songs–coyote, cricket, nighthawk, frogs, hoot owl
Life
Instructions for Life
touch sky
reach stars
sing to moon
dance in rain
whirl with wind
be bold, brave
make life matter
Jesus and Easter
Yesterday, I learned several new aspects of the religious debates surrounding the teachings of Jesus, Christianity, Mormonism., and how Easter is viewed. Mostly, it followed a discussion on a post about Jesus, Good Friday, and Christian politics. Whether most modern Christians want to believe it, Jesus’ teachings were radical, revolutionary. However, most modern Christians pay much more attention to the teachings of the misogynist Greek, Paul. The debate centered on comments after this particular post about the politics of Christianity.
It centered on Mormon beliefs about Easter. According to the comments, Mormons do not use crosses because they focus on the teachings of Jesus and his life. They use these teachings and his life as a guide. I thought to myself: what a good idea. If the whole world followed his teachings, the world would be a much better place full of peace, equality for all, not just the powerful few, tolerance, understanding–the list is long.
The contention of many of the so-called Christians commenting is that true Christianity focuses on the death of Jesus and his subsequent rising from the dead, that what matters is that he died for their sins, and rose on the third day, that Mormons are not Christians because they focus on his life. Really?? Not only did I find this information new–and perhaps this is what many Christians believe–but astonishing. Although my family celebrated Easter in a big way, I was always taught that Jesus’ teachings held the center of belief.
I will admit that although I grew up in a mainstream Protestant, Christian denomination, I no longer consider myself a Christian. I firmly think (notice I did not use the word believe) the world would be a much better place if everyone followed the teachings of Jesus!!!! Religion, as most practice it, is ruining the world. Perhaps if everyone focused on Jesus’ teachings instead of arguing over who is right, we could attain some sort of mutual respect and peace. As Jesus taught:
-respect one another
-love one another
-share
-treat others as you hope to be treated
May your day be filled with joy and peace!!!
Blank, white paper
Blank, white paper
stares at me,
sitting here eating a
left over Subway sandwich,
reading Sky Bridge by
Laura Pritchett,
avoiding my writing commitment.
This book surprises me,
makes me think of my students,
some poor, trailer housed,
gun toting, hard scrabble,
simultaneously smart and ignorant.
Their idea of rich includes
any house over 2000 square feet,
stylish, elegant clothes, land.
My brain swirls thoughts, images:
What can it all mean, this life?
Joy, a hurting beauty?
Looking out the windows,
listening to the West Texas wind,
I ask myself again:
What can it all mean?
writingontherim 