Poetry

Getting Out of Our Own Way

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I saw this quote from Anne Lamott, and found myself pondering it a bit. it’s so true, and it would seem so easy to just step aside. If it were that easy, I suspect there’s be a whole lot more creative thinking going on in this world.

Speaking for myself, I let my creativity flow how I can, when I can, knowing full well that there are things inside me that want to be said, but not necessarily in words. I am always working on getting out of my own way, because I want to see what’s inside, too.

I love looking at all the fabulous art on Instagram because it inspires me. Then I wonder – because what I see is so amazing (and sometimes AI) – is it possible it also serves to intimidate me?

And I’m reading. I’m halfway through A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle, and I will return to it, but I needed something else. I’m starting Thinking Out Loud by Anna Quindlen. I picked this up at the big library book sale, and although it was written in 1993, Quindlen has a gift for always being timely and relevant. Plus I’ve read a few of her books in the past, currently own one. She’s a good bet.

It’s Memorial Day weekend. In part, I feel like I should be doing something other than what I’m doing, but I’m enjoying some peace, seeing my home shine a little more, writing, reading. Isn’t this the kind of freedom those before us gave their lives to give us? Hope your weekend is going great, too.

Meandering in A Confused World

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One of my small daily pleasures each morning once I’ve fed Charlie and made my coffee is to sit by the living room window and do two things – a perusal of Instagram, a gathering if you will, of positive words, thoughts and images (occasionally my own work), and then sharing them in my Stories. Then I journal to clear out the cobwebs, sort out my challenges, put to paper my joys and angst … whatever the day calls for.

While on IG, I always hope that whoever stops by gains some benefit from what I post. We know, vaguely, how the algorithms work; you get more of what you like (almost a corollary of karma, right?), and therefore, I find vast amounts of insight, positivity, and beauty. Some mornings, when I open the app, I am greeted with exactly what I need to know for that day. Because I do believe the Universe works that way.

Sometimes I share things like this, courtesy of @spiritualgoal –

Sometimes I post things I’ve been doing, like the gecko drawing above, or how I’ve redesigned my picture book, Where Do Butterflies Go at Night? 2nd Edition. (You can read that in detail here.)

But mostly, I’m sharing insights, inspiration, and the beauty of life.

Inevitably, while I scroll, I come across other things, often in Threads, about our current political circumstances. And sometimes, I drop in and read, because most of what’s really happening is on social nowadays, not the mainstream media. I find life – mental and emotional life – is a balancing act of trying to remain informed and at the same time, keeping my sanity.

It’s why the positivity is so important. Knowing, remembering, how important we are in the larger scheme of things. Even just being centered and loving in this world is a huge contribution. Holding the place of love.

And sometimes I create my own memes. This one’s for you. Just keep holding that light up high.

National Poetry Month – April 30th

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It’s the end of April and the end of National Poetry Month. I felt we were overdue for a love poem.

PERMANENTLY

One day the Nouns were clustered in the street.
An Adjective walked by, with her dark beauty.
The Nouns were struck, moved, changed.
The next day a Verb drove up, and created the Sentence.

Each Sentence says one thing – for example, “Although it was a dark, rainy day when the Adjective walked by, I shall remember the pure and sweet expression on her face until the day I perish from the green, effective earth.”

Or, “Will you please close the window, Andrew?”

Or, for example, “Thank you, the pink pot of flowers on the window sill has changed color recently to a light yellow, due to the heat from the boiler factory which exists nearby.”

In the springtime, the Sentences and the Nouns lay silently on the grass.
A lonely conjunction here and there would call, “And! But!”
But the Adjective did not emerge.

As the adjective is lost in the sentence,
So I am lost in your eyes, ears, nose, and throat –
You have enchanted me with a single kiss
Which can never be undone
Until the destruction of language.

– Kenneth Koch

Home …

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Home is such an important place. A place to just be yourself, to relax, a refuge, a place to foster growth, a cocoon of dreams, an inspiration of life, a place to heal, and so much more.

April is National Poetry Month, so I’m offering this lovely poem by Christopher Marlowe.

Song for A Little House

I’m glad our house is a little house,
Not too tall nor too wide.
I’m glad the hovering butterflies
Feel free to come inside.

Our little house is a friendly house.
It is not shy or vain;
It gossips with the talking trees,
And makes friends with the rain.

And quick leaves cast a shimmer of green
Against our whited walls,
And in the phlox, the courteous bees
Are paying duty calls.
– Christopher Marlowe

But home is not just the structure itself; it is also the place, the neighborhood, the city, the town. They’re all part of “home.” And so, a few more photos of my home, as spring comes slowly into bloom. Above, the trees, just beginning to green up, and their late afternoon shadows accompany me on my walk along the river to the bridge.

Looking north, life is just awakening from slumber. This sentinel, which has steadfastly looked over the river for the 19 years I’ve lived here and much longer, is now showing the most shy of buds.

Crossing the Delaware River to Pennsylvania, where the blush of green in the trees is heartening.

Forsythia in bloom around one of our many turn-of-the-century homes, with the Chestnut Hill B`n B just behind.

Home is where we walk, where we become, and who we are for however long we stay.

National Poetry Month – April 4th

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April is National Poetry Month. They Want Us to Be Afraid is one of many beautiful – the word here is so inadequate – poems by Kamand Kojouri. This poem was written in May 2017, just 8 years ago.

THEY WANT US TO BE AFRAID

They want us to be afraid.
They want us to be afraid of leaving our homes,
to barricade our doors and hide our children.
They aim to make us fear life!

They want us to hate.
They want us to hate the other,
to practice aggression and promote oppression.
They aim to divide us all!

They want us to be inhuman.
They want us to throw out our kindness,
to conceal our love and bury our hope.
They aim to take our light!

They think their brick walls
will separate us.
They think their damned bombs
will defeat us.

They are so ignorant they don’t understand
that my soul and your soul are old friends.
They are so ignorant they don’t understand
that when they cut you, I bleed.

They are so ignorant they don’t understand
that we will never be afraid,
we will never hate,
and we will never be silent.
For life is only ours!

~ Kamand Kojouri