Blackfoot daisies, corydalis grace green pastures
springtime wonders
tiny blossoms of joy winking at an azure sky.
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?
Photo Essay: Spending a Day in Ljubljana
For those of you who liked the previously reblogged post on Slovenia.
Our Slovenia travel chapter started with its beautiful capital city and the smallest capital in Europe – Ljubljana (“lyoob-lyAH-nah”). Interestingly Ljubljana is a city that does not have any world-famous monuments or attractions or a long or short list of to do’s. But it has many things to see and do and the best way to discover its secrets is via our favorite way – ditch the map and walk around aimlessly on foot.
Ljubljana from the Ljubljana Castle, Slovenia
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Commitment and Poetry
This business of committing to posting a poem a day during National Poetry Month is not so very easy. Yesterday I totally forgot and tonight I am nearly too tired to think of anything at all profound and clever. However, a commitment is a serious endeavor, I will put my fatigued brain in gear, and something of use to someone will hopefully result. Now that I puzzle over this, the solution is to write a poem about those things to which I am committed:
Commitments
Make a difference in this world.
Enjoy ordinary moments.
Hang in there for the long haul.
Express joy and courage to
be the best possible self.
Make a difference in this world.
Dance to the sound of silence.
Learn something new and
meaningful every day.
Meditate, practice yoga.
Cherish friends and family.
Make a difference in this world.
Teaching
Three students mad at other students:
in stream-of-conscious essay one
tells me,
“I want to punch ___T____ and ___J_____ in the face.”
Two others allude, avoid the overt.
I must “fix” this for them.
Senioritis.
Change
“If you want the present to be different from the past, study the past.” Spinoza
Christians went to the Holy Land
to claim it back. Crusades.
Moslems fought Moslems
Sunni against Shia
Sufis outcast or revered
Hafiz, Rumi
No middle ground
No compromise
Centuries gone
New technology
the only change.
No one learned
listened to the past
to the humane
voices in the wind.
20 Reasons why Slovenia must be on your travel wishlist for 2015
20 Reasons why Slovenia must be on your travel wishlist for 2015. I do not usually share a lot of posts, but this one from a blogging friend is a must share. It includes such incredibly beautiful photos–for all of you out there who like travel.
Pain
She remembers nothing.
Head vibrates,
fingers tremble
heart thumps.
Her brain hangs on
one big thorn on a
mesquite tree.
She cannot cry,
looks at pestules on
dry, blotchy skin.
Her brain hangs on
one big thorn on a
mesquite tree.
She tries to remember.
Feet walk on
broken shards
eyes crimson,
silently cries.
Her brain hangs on
one big thorn on a
mesquite tree.
Sunday Haiku
Sun filters through junipers
wind whispers
mockingbirds sing mating songs.
Listening to a Band
Yesterday my second daughter arrived from Thailand. Biologically she is not my daughter, but rather my first exchange student six years ago. We have kept in touch over the years and she is now here with me for a month. Her best friend from high school here is also with us. Tonight we went to the Palace Coffee in Canyon, Texas, to listen to a trio because the band leader is a friend of the friend. This poem attempts to describe the music.
Long hair flying
except the drummer
Wild strumming
No picking
Guitar and bass
percussion not strings
Three percussion instruments
vibrating sound
until
suddenly
guitar becomes synthesizer
haunting, electronic
other dimensional.
Then
back to
three percussion instruments
vibrating sound
voices lost
