instagram poem: tree feeling
instagram poem: wildness is my periphery
the sun with all the planets
“The sun with all the planets revolving around it and depending on it can still ripen a bunch of grapes as though it had nothing else in the Universe to do.”
questions to ask a poem
What is being said?
Is there more that wants to be said?
Does it follow its own deepest impulses, not necessarily the initial idea?
Does it know more than you did when you started it?
Are there things in it that don’t belong?
Are there things in it that are confusing?
Is it particular?
Could any of its words be more interesting? more surprising? more alive?
Does it allow strangeness?
Does each of its moments actively move the poem toward its full realization?
seeing hostiles
My father and I are long-time Western fans, starting when I was a kid and we'd go to the drugstore for the latest Western novel by Louis L'Amour. So when my father saw the movie "Hostiles" advertised we immediately made plans to see it.
A workmate saw it and described it as a "thoughtful" Western.
Well, it is definitely that. But also much, much more. The scenery is majestic, great sweeping pans of rugged mountainous terrain and close-ups of rugged and lived-in faces. It starts out with two throat-gripping scenes that trigger the emotional roller-coaster ride that is the movie. (No spoilers here.)
We like our history with clear villains and heroes. The truth of course is much more ambiguous, which this movie captured. I cheered. I cried. The three main stars Christian Bale, Wes Studi and Rosamund Pike gave such all-in performances it was hardly acting. It was being. With an artful human transparency. In the end the resolute human heart prevails. Definitely worth seeing.
hostile (noun): a person or thing that is antagonistic or unfriendly.
life is energy
“Life is energy, and energy is creativity. And even when individuals pass on, the energy is retained in the work of art, locked in it and awaiting release if only someone will take the time and the care to unlock it.”
mom love
I lost my feisty mother on Black Friday. I can't believe she's gone. She had the end we all wish for. She died in her sleep in my father's arms after spending Thanksgiving with all us kids. She and my daughter were teasing each other back and forth. Remembering travel, vacations, a trip to Key West (which of course my father was "telling all wrong").
“The loss is immeasurable, but so is the love left behind.”
Dad, Me & Mom at My Wedding
What My Mother Knows
I watch my mother get ready to go out.
It's my favorite memory.
Her eyes meet mine in the mirror.
Her eyes are hazel
with blooms of gold around the dark pupils.
Every Friday night she makes space for my father.
She knows that love needs room and time
and a standing date.
She leaves us kids alone but not without
things to do.
She knows that independence needs
instruction.
She considers an array of clothes
in her closet.
She likes to shop.
She knows that the world deserves
the very best version of herself.
She teaches us how to be the very best
versions of ourselves.
reading chemistry
I couldn't put this book down. Had it in my reading queue after reading an intriguing review. A very modern novel, although I should try to identify what I mean by modern. (1) The author doesn't *explain* everything. In fact, some of the more important events take place offstage. She is the imperfect filter for her experiences. Her tone is cool, detached almost. Scientific. She's in a relationship. She's not in a relationship. He is the omnipresent "Eric." All the other characters are not named. The best friend. The advisor. (2) The author is having an existential crisis. It's okay to talk about an existential crisis again, especially in the context of ethnicity and feminism. The author deals with both. She is a female scientist. She is Asian American. (3) The principles of chemistry become allegories, become jumping off points for deeper consideration. She g-r-o-w-s in the book. We grow with her. It's a life's work.
church
I find church in poetry. In the squeeze of my grandson's small hand. In my children sharing a joke. In the secret language of partners. And in the steady guidance of my parents. Yesterday morning I found church in church in the music ministry of Kristen Graves who shared music and stories of the work being done by Simply Smiles.
Kristen Graves
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