Saturday, August 15, 2015

LETTERS

One more blast from the past!

Erato Muse of Poetry by Sir Edward John Poynter


TO AN UNFORGETTABLE TEACHER

I WANT TO BE AN ILLUSTRIOUS POET AND WRITER LIKE YOU TO BE ABLE TO WRITE
EXPRESSIVE AND MAGIC WORDS
ABOUT WHAT YOU MEAN IN MY LIFE
BUT I KNOW THAT THE
WAY TO BE LIKE YOU IS LONG.
SO, NOW I JUST CAN WRITE THE MOST SIMPLE
AND SHORT WORDS
THANK YOU FOR BEING MY TEACHER AND
THE WONDERFUL PERSON THAT INTERPRETS YOUR
VIVID SOUL.

THANK YOU MR. SQUIER

NOTE: I WILL REMEMBER
YOU MY WHOLE LIFE

FROM ANNA RAMOS
6-3-08


TO Lorelei:
 


To feel talent-less is a feeling that all good writers have, since they recognize and appreciate the talent of other writers, and aspire for the same.
It is a sign that you seek perfection.
And that is a most worthy goal.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Go forward...with your army of words to unveil your mind, muse and imagination.
I, too, want to capture fleeting moments and turn them into golden words and thoughts.
Sometimes I succeed; most of the time I miss my mark.
We must aim at this mark even though we miss.
Don't feel downtrodden, and if you do, turn these deeply felt thoughts into poetry.

M.L. Squier
6-6-08



IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND POETRY!

Friday, August 14, 2015

WHAT TIME IS IT?

It's time to post an earlier post.  Sunday, December 28, 2008


ON TIME







A ROCK IS
 
A TIMELESS

SILENT CLOCK.


My grandfather lived in a tent with his collie dog next to a river.
Except for some raccoons, there were few intruders into his pine-treed paradise.
It was quiet and solitary until summers arrived.
Although my grandfather was able to take apart any clock or watch---and then able to put the clock or watch back together---I don’t remember ever seeing him wearing a watch, or watching a clock.
But he did have a sundial.
He didn’t pay much attention to this sundial or what time it might “say”.
He had become much like those wise “savages” who knew time by the location of the sun.
What time is it?
Look for the sun.
Is the sun Low or High in the sky?
Then you knew what time it was.
My favorite poetic lines about time are T.S. Eliot’s:

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
[From Burnt Norton
No. 1 of Four Quartets]





And these lines from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock:

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"

Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair---


I’ve never liked the words “kill time”.
When I’m about ready to say them, I refrain, and say “wound time”.
(Thank you Maurice Maeterlinck)
It’s that time of year again to say goodbye to the old year and hello to the new one.
As anyone who is past forty knows, the pages of time…
The hours…
The days…
And the years!
Go by much faster as we get older.
I find myself saying quite often, “It seems like yesterday” that this or that happened.
But it isn’t the clocks which have gotten faster.
It’s only our minds and bodies which are moving along on the winged feet of time.
Time seems to pass through us more than we do through it.
P.S.
I don’t use chalk anymore in my classroom, but I did many years ago.
I was always blowing chalk dust off of my wristwatch.
Finally, one of my students asked me (and she always prefaced every question that she asked with “Can I ask you a question?”):
“Why do you blow on your watch so much?”
What a wonderful question, I thought, and then after an abbreviated chuckle, I said to her:
“I’m just getting the chalk dust off of my watch.”
And she said, “Oh, I thought maybe you needed to blow on it to make it run…you know…with air.”
Another favorite anecdote is when I was tramping about and slept one night in a house with other strangers and stragglers.
I wrote about this timely experience in one of my poems.
Here it is:



TIME

I didn't sleep
I didn't snore
Inside
A house replete
With many feet
Spread out across
The living room floor.
I stayed inside the
Bathroom that was as
Yellow as the sun
And wrote poems ‘til
I thought I was done.
When the sleepy supine sleepers all awoke
Here is what to Jim the Space Cowboy I spoke:
"Jim", I said, "What time is it?"
He waved his hand
And asked me to follow him.
Jim the Space Cowboy took me to
The fridge and opened its white door;
Then he opened the freezer door
And took out an alarm clock that
He held in his hand.
Jim said:
“There is no time.
Time is frozen.”


P.S.
I went to the New Yorker magazine and read this poem. It strikes a similar chord on the theme of time:

Anterooms

by Richard Wilbur

January 5, 2009




Out of the snowdrift
Which covered it, this pillared
Sundial starts to lift,
Able now at last
To let its frozen hours
Melt into the past

In bright, ticking drops.
Time so often hastens by,
Time so often stops—

Still, it strains belief
How an instant can dilate,
Or long years be brief.

Dreams, which interweave
All our times and tenses, are
What we can believe:

Dark they are, yet plain,
Coming to us now as if
Through a cobwebbed pane

Where, before our eyes,
All the living and the dead
Meet without surprise.



IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND TIME!

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

THE UNIVERSE IS KICKING THE BUCKET









Ebola.

Global Warming.

Iranian nuclear bombs.

Kim Kardashian.
(Well, maybe not Kim Kardashian.)

And now there's even more bad news:
The Universe has lost half of its energy.

The universe has basically plonked itself down on the sofa, pulled up a blanket and is about to nod off for an eternal doze.”

[Professor Simon Driver from the International Centre for Radio Astronomy Research (ICRAR) in Western Australia.]

The next president of the United States won't be able to do anything about this, not even Hillary Clinton or Jeb Bush.
(Donald Trump will build a homongous fence around the Earth to protect us from illegal E.T.'s).

There are many things we just can't control.
The Universe is one of these things.
So plonk down on the sofa, pull up a blanket, read, or watch a movie.



IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND THE UNIVERSE!





Sunday, August 09, 2015

THE STONED BARD












To be or not to be...stoned.

Was Shakespeare a pothead?

Of course he was!

How else could he have composed his great plays?

The Bard needed weed to do this.

Below is a typical day in the life of the Stoned Bard:


William:
Dear, have you seen my pot pipe?

Anne:
No, dear. Is it time again for you to do some smoking so THAT you can write?

William:
Yes, dear. Well, if I can't find my pot pipe, I'll just use rolling papers.

Anne:
O.K..

I'll look around for your pipe.
go ahead and get high so you can start writing.

William:
Ahhh, that's the ticket.
Now I can concentrate better on my iambic pentameter.

Anne:
Dear, good news, I found your pipe.

William:
Good.
Fill it up.
I'm ready for some more inspiration.




IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND SHAKESPEARE!





Friday, August 07, 2015

KITE FLYING AND THE REPUBLICAN DEBATE


Kite-flying was on my mind right now, and I remembered this experience. 

NOTE: Last night republican candidates were flying some kites of their own.  A few were more like lead balloons.


MONDAY, AUGUST 14, 2006


EDUCATIONAL DISCIPLINE


We volunteers were required to make a visit to a provincial Afghan school. My visit was to a school in Jalalabad. Jalalabad was where fruit trees grew. It was an oasis only 3 hours from Kabul. The bus ride on the high, tortuous and narrow mountain road was frightening. I was happy when the bus stopped for prayers.
At the school in Jalalabad I walked into a crowded classroom. There were a few long benches and one blackboard. I was waiting for some instruction to begin. It was very quiet. Suddenly, the classroom emptied. I followed the crowd of students to the center of the schoolyard. A crowd of students surrounded one boy. Another student began hitting this boy on the back with a branch. It lasted for less than a minute, then the crowd returned to the classroom. I asked what had just transpired, and was told that the student had spoken in class. I had not heard anyone, but apparently the teacher had. Discipline!
While walking in Jalalabad I met a great-grandson of a famous Afghan governor.This great-grandson invited me to his house for tea. On our way to his house a child was crossing the road. The great-grandson tried to avoid hitting the child, but didn't. He accelerated when I protested that he had just hit a child. I looked back, and saw that the child had gotten up from the ground, apparently only grazed by the contact. The great-grandson pointed out that the child was not badly injured, and that if he had stopped he would have been in serious trouble. When we arrived at his house, he opened two large metal doors, and drove the Volkswagen beetle inside.
It was a very large estate, the largest I had ever seen while in Kabul. It had lush foliage and many fruit trees.
Tea was brought. After tea, the great-grandson brought out a huge kite in the shape of an American eagle, and he got it aloft in no time. He pointed out the "glass" string. He said proudly that his kite had never lost. I watched as the eagle flew higher and higher into the sky. Another kite was flying nearby. The great-grandson said, "Watch this". He quickly moved the string on his American eagle, and then he deftly sliced the string on the other kite. He still had never lost.


IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND FLYING KITES!

Wednesday, August 05, 2015

REMEMBRANCE OF THINGS PAST AND SEX WITH ROBOTS











*


Miranda:


O wonder!

How many goodly creatures are 

there here!

How beauteous mankind is! O brave

 new world

That has such people in't!



Prospero:

'Tis new to thee.








*

Shakespeare might write today:
O brave new world that has such robots in it!”

Robots that are capable of having coitus are not here...yet.

YET!?

YIKES!

Since I am at that ripe (or decomposed) age when sex is not as prominent as it once was,
my carnal knowledge is now mostly memory...
A remembrance of things past.

I am going now more than I am coming.

*

People talk less and less.

They are too busy using their electronic devices (with an emphasis on the suffix vices).

It is not surprising that one day (soon?) humans who are too busy to talk to each other will turn to their robot companions--- without fuss of foreplay or any communication---to have coitus.

How this will happen is not clear, but our imagination can give us some ideas.

*

Suzy the Robot:
Human, I am here for your pleasure. Do you wish to begin?


Bob the Human:
Yes, but let me first finish this text.

Suzy the Robot:
Yes, human.

Bob the Human:
Suzy, you can call me Bob.

Suzy the Robot:
Yes, Bob.

Bob the Human:
Thank you.

Suzy the Robot:
At what speed do you wish to go today?

Bob the Human:
Just a second, Suzy, I'll be right with you. I'm still texting.

Suzy the Robot:
Yes, Bob.

Bob the Human:
O.K. I'm ready.
I think fast will be best today since I need to be at work in thirty minutes.

Suzy the Robot:
Yes, Bob.
Do you want my infrared on today?

Bob the Human:
Yes. Infrared. I'm a little stiff from yesterday.

Suzy the Robot:
Yes, Bob.



IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND SEX WITH ROBOTS




Saturday, August 01, 2015

COFFEE




*

I drink at least two cups of coffee every morning,
so soon I may not remember anything.
I just forgot what I wrote.
I'm only joking, but it may not be a joke if the above report is correct.

*

Too much of the time we are told one thing, then another thing, and then another and another...until who knows what is true and what isn't?

*

Coffee has always had this problem.
I tend to just drink and enjoy, and let the studies and reports flutter in the four winds.

*

Life is too short, isn't it?
Let's not let scientists come between us, our fries, Twinkies, or coffee.





IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES AND COFFEE!