I'm not sure why I had to find this out from an Italian source, but here is an interesting story (my translation):
The Suquamish (http://www.suquamish.nsn.us/), a Native American Nation located in Washington State, has legalized same-sex marriage. The France Press news agency has reported that the decision was made by the tribal council, consisting of 7 members, at the request of a young lesbian woman. "It is our tradition and our culture to be inclusive and accepting of those who may be different," declared their legal counsel. The Suquamish have thier own constitution and they can deliberate independently on various issues: this decision, however, only has value within the Suquamish Nation.
----------------------------------------------------------------
The source:
http://www.uaar.it/news/2011/08/04/usa-tribu-nativi-americani-approva-matrimonio-omosessuale/
UAAR Ultimissime
USA, tribù di nativi americani approva il matrimonio omosessuale
I suquamish, una tribù di nativi americani stanziata nello stato di Washington, hanno legalizzato il matrimonio omosessuale. Ne dà notizia l'agenzia France Presse: la decisione è stata presa dal consiglio della tribù, composto da sette membri, su richiesta di una giovane lesbica. "E' parte della nostra tradizione e della nostra cultura essere inclusivi, accettando persone che potrebbero essere differenti", ha dichiarato un loro esperto legale. I suquamish hanno una propria costituzione e possono deliberare autonomamente su diverse questioni: la decisione ha comunque valore soltanto all'interno della tribù.
-------------------------------------------------
Friday, 5 August 2011
Thursday, 4 August 2011
Open Window
Open Window
-----------
After days of heat
and sweat
and conversations with the Contessa
on when to air-condition-ate
ourselves
I wake up to a cicada
scratching the wind ...
from the wounds
comes dry-coolness
to the yawning light
so I fling open the windows
to let the music in
a commercial jet streaks the screen ...
the number "2" sloughs to a brief
ponderous exhilation at the semaphore
and bench below the window sill
the next shift of cicadas
slips out and into basswood leaves
one of them lug out a
saxaphone
jammin' a riff on oh, what beautiful morn
syncopation to the river
the clicks of jealous cardinals
and the quarrelling crows on
Franklin avenue
the "2" farts to a stop
... once more ...
the saxaphone cicada toots
through a chorus of
what a wonderful world
then climbs in
through hydraulic doors
and the wheels turn
on ... forward ...
with the light
diesal aromatics
spike the river breeze
a hint of midnight train
whispers
its prophesy
to the newly born
horizon
josjr (2011 0805)
-----------
After days of heat
and sweat
and conversations with the Contessa
on when to air-condition-ate
ourselves
I wake up to a cicada
scratching the wind ...
from the wounds
comes dry-coolness
to the yawning light
so I fling open the windows
to let the music in
a commercial jet streaks the screen ...
the number "2" sloughs to a brief
ponderous exhilation at the semaphore
and bench below the window sill
the next shift of cicadas
slips out and into basswood leaves
one of them lug out a
saxaphone
jammin' a riff on oh, what beautiful morn
syncopation to the river
the clicks of jealous cardinals
and the quarrelling crows on
Franklin avenue
the "2" farts to a stop
... once more ...
the saxaphone cicada toots
through a chorus of
what a wonderful world
then climbs in
through hydraulic doors
and the wheels turn
on ... forward ...
with the light
diesal aromatics
spike the river breeze
a hint of midnight train
whispers
its prophesy
to the newly born
horizon
josjr (2011 0805)
Wednesday, 3 August 2011
A Tender Moment?
A Tender Moment?
-----------------------
Upon hearing of my mother's
ill health
and "hurt" because of my
long absense
I try to think of some moment to
meditate upon ...
some instance without accusation ...
disagreement ... condescenion ... sarcasm ...
!!!ANGER!!! ...
I flip through the rolodex of images ...
fleeting ... whispy ... dark ... confused ...
thorny ... encrusted ...
but I just can't get beyond those moments
of uncontained rage
that distill down
to a single moment in the arizona desert
my mother lashing at a sister
with a fury that stains walls
and exhails destruction
my adrenaline pulsed
driving me to enter my sister's room
and
try
to still the leather
in flight and flame
then the monster in a mother's skin
turns liquid steel and
twists its magma strips upon my face ...
my skin ... my belief in ... harmony? ...
there was no pain ... [at the moment] ...
the belt ... the buckle ... the flailing arms ...
inflicted what they could ...
but in slice of turbulence
I had entered a place
somewhere else
outside ... above ... to the side ...
but after ...
growing with the years ... the scars
blister and bite ...
they fester with each breath ...
and I can no longer
pass my hand across my cheeks
without the
numbing current of
irrelevance
josjr (2011 0803)
-----------------------
Upon hearing of my mother's
ill health
and "hurt" because of my
long absense
I try to think of some moment to
meditate upon ...
some instance without accusation ...
disagreement ... condescenion ... sarcasm ...
!!!ANGER!!! ...
I flip through the rolodex of images ...
fleeting ... whispy ... dark ... confused ...
thorny ... encrusted ...
but I just can't get beyond those moments
of uncontained rage
that distill down
to a single moment in the arizona desert
my mother lashing at a sister
with a fury that stains walls
and exhails destruction
my adrenaline pulsed
driving me to enter my sister's room
and
try
to still the leather
in flight and flame
then the monster in a mother's skin
turns liquid steel and
twists its magma strips upon my face ...
my skin ... my belief in ... harmony? ...
there was no pain ... [at the moment] ...
the belt ... the buckle ... the flailing arms ...
inflicted what they could ...
but in slice of turbulence
I had entered a place
somewhere else
outside ... above ... to the side ...
but after ...
growing with the years ... the scars
blister and bite ...
they fester with each breath ...
and I can no longer
pass my hand across my cheeks
without the
numbing current of
irrelevance
josjr (2011 0803)
Ode to Sixty Years
Ode to 60 Years
---------------------
I woke up this morning
dark outside
sun long from arriving ...
two thirty ... a bit early ...
but the humidity sticks to my skin
like old moss
in an east Texas cellar
I take a pee
then look in the mirror
and there's this old man staring back at me
"welcome to the third act"
he says ...
sixty years
the third age
the final leg of a journey that started
on a dairy farm on the outskirts of Houston, Texas
and stumbled across ten states
fifty houses
two kids somewhere in the wind
two marriages
and more careers
than an alcholic ranch hand
the mythology of it all
fascinates me
but in the end
its just me and the contessa
"jalopy" bodies crumbling
preparing for the fires that consume us all
so I scoop the vanilla ice cream into
a frosted glass
and lift the root beer high
to salute ...
the stones we threw into
the Irish sea in St Davids, Wales
at the edge of the ancient stone circle where
we married ourselves ... first ...
to salute ...
the gypsies living in their trash house
beneath the tracks at the
Ponte Mammolo station in Rome
(sotto il binario della stazione metropolitana di
Ponte mammolo a Roma)
and sit down for a real conversation
with Pier Paolo Pasolini
to discuss the intricacies of the plot in his film
Mamma Roma
josjr (2011 0803)
---------------------
I woke up this morning
dark outside
sun long from arriving ...
two thirty ... a bit early ...
but the humidity sticks to my skin
like old moss
in an east Texas cellar
I take a pee
then look in the mirror
and there's this old man staring back at me
"welcome to the third act"
he says ...
sixty years
the third age
the final leg of a journey that started
on a dairy farm on the outskirts of Houston, Texas
and stumbled across ten states
fifty houses
two kids somewhere in the wind
two marriages
and more careers
than an alcholic ranch hand
the mythology of it all
fascinates me
but in the end
its just me and the contessa
"jalopy" bodies crumbling
preparing for the fires that consume us all
so I scoop the vanilla ice cream into
a frosted glass
and lift the root beer high
to salute ...
the stones we threw into
the Irish sea in St Davids, Wales
at the edge of the ancient stone circle where
we married ourselves ... first ...
to salute ...
the gypsies living in their trash house
beneath the tracks at the
Ponte Mammolo station in Rome
(sotto il binario della stazione metropolitana di
Ponte mammolo a Roma)
and sit down for a real conversation
with Pier Paolo Pasolini
to discuss the intricacies of the plot in his film
Mamma Roma
josjr (2011 0803)
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
Tangled Streets
Tangled Streets
James Oliver Smith, Jr
To steal
A kiss
He had the knack
But lacked the cheek
To get one back
Burma-Shave
This rhyme flashes into my mind. I feel the rhythm and lilt of its humor as I walk west on Franklin Avenue. The sun is bright and a stiff wind stings my face and arms. On the sidewalk ahead of me one the residents of the East Seward Tower steps deliberately. Her hijab and long dark dress press tightly against her back and legs, wings of cloth flapping feverously in the agitated brilliance of early spring. She is too preoccupied with speaking to someone on the cell phone tucked tightly into the fabric framing her face to take much notice of me or the atmosphere, but the kaleidoscope of the moment sweeps me away.
In the glare of the afternoon sun the Minneapolis skyline washes away.
"The nice thing about losing your eyesight," says my ophthalmologist, "is that you can see whatever you want to see."
OK, so what if I let the images of the moment dissipate. The woman with the hijab, the traffic slipping by, the elm tree arching above me and even the trash can at the bus stop are all easy to squeeze out of the dishrag afternoon, but the sun and biting wind remain. My knuckles are stiff from gripping my walking stick. Extending the rubber tip to the cement makes me feel grounded, but that sensation of cold, raw tension in my fingers is impossible to eradicate, like the sun and the wind. It is a firm reality identical to walking the streets of Tuba City almost fifty years ago on the way to school.
My fingers often grow numb from the cold and icy wind while walking through the streets of the Bureau of Indian Affairs housing, by the boarding school, the trailer courts, and down Main Street to the public school. Willow street snakes its way past the houses of friends like the kid who calls himself the "Navajo Clown", even though he isn't Navajo, but he is quite the clown. Next to him is the cute brunette who is so serious a student that she frightens me. Further down the street lives the Morman girl that leads me to believe that Morman girls are the prettiest and most feminine of all. Her neighbor is the kid with a neat electric car track, a delightful little sister and a mother who laughs wildly when she listens to Johnny Cash sing "A Boy Named Sue".
When I pass the boarding school dorms I can't help but think of the twin girls living in the dorm where their mother works. I earnestly hope they don't come out and see me. They are far too sensual for me to feel comfortable around them.
When you move around as much as I do with my Mother and sisters the only thing you know is the road and your literature comes in the form of Berma Shave signs and mile markers. They define where you are, where you are going and who you will become.
Mileage Marker 4534
Spring 1964
My mother is on a mission from god.
Her theology dictates that God speaks Baptist, hates Catholics and Mormans, and that indian girls get pregnant before marriage.
Tuba City has lots of Catholics, Mormans and indians.
To make matters worse, the hymnals at the Baptist church speak Navajo.
She hates it here.
If she were to write a Burma Shave rhyme it might say:
Catholics here
Mormons there
This is the day
To hook the trailer
And pull away
God-The Baptist
With my mother I had to accept several important things:
01. The Bible is the ony valuable book
02. Baptists are the only ones to get it right
03. All boys are bad
04. Girls need to control boys
05. Never settle down and make friends because we'll be moving soon.
Tuba City, I couldn't help but think, is just another roadside stop.
"Hey, Jim, wait for me."
That's my walking companion. She lives right by the street that stops abruptly at the desert's edge. The desert extends east 'til you get to Nevada. Many of our houses have back yards that simply drift off into dunes, sagebrush and sandstone. From our back window I could sit down with a bologna sandwich and see the rugged edge of the Grand Canyon fifty miles away.
The wind presses her skirt against her legs and plays with her brown hair. She trots to my side, adjusting her ever-present headband. She smiles broadly. It's infectious. I'm fairly certain her blouse is becoming tighter.
"Oh look, a devil wind."
She runs and jumps in the middle of it, laughing.
"Come on, join me."
I am never all that comfortable being so compulsive and spontaneous, but she always seems ready to just fly into the now and engage it. I watch her and manage to smile warmly. At least I think I am. I switch my trumpet case to my left hand to releave my right, trying to cradle my book between my side and the horn. It works for a few minutes, giving my right hand a chance to losen up and get warm in my coat pocket. She looks comfortable in her sweater and has no trouble holding the book she is taking to school.
"What'd you do last night?", she asks.
"Wednesday night."
"Oh, right ... church?"
I nod. She chuckles.
"Ever wish you could just stay in one place for your whole life?"
She likes to ask me that question, almost every day, even though she enjoys hearing my stories of travel through Texas, Arizona and Colorado, never missing a Baptist church along the way. Then I would counter with "Ever wish you could just go out alone at night, miss that bible study your dad insists on every evening?"
Then she'd go silent for moment. The only time she couldn't say a word, when she thought of her dad, the curfew, the bible study ... and the night.
We are both puzzled about the bible. It just doesn't make sense how people can control people with something so old and out of touch. At thirteen we feel that it is not relevant to us so we created a secret "unbible", putting stuff in it that isn't in the bible, although we thought it should be, like how to have sex, dance and escape from parents. We can't write it down because they would see it.
The time on these walks is ours, away from our homes and out of school.
"What happened in choir yesterday? You were always able to sing higher than any of us girls. And then..."
"I know ... I know ... and it was so easy before. Now..."
A block away from school she walks ahead and stares back, briefly ... She smiles and straightens her headband ... She turns ... Her dress sways ... My fingers clutching the trumpet case and books ... quiver ...
* * *
Mileage Marker 21900
I grip the shaft of my walking stick with my left hand and twist the knob in my right palm. The woman in the hijab throws the cell phone into the depths of her leather purse ... She turns ... Her dress sways ...
I extend the rubber tip to the sidewalk and watch the traffic passing by on Franklin Avenue ... The wind bites through the fabric of my shirt.
To find
Your way
Outside the car
You must push
The door ajar
To myself
(josjr 2011 0720)
James Oliver Smith, Jr
To steal
A kiss
He had the knack
But lacked the cheek
To get one back
Burma-Shave
This rhyme flashes into my mind. I feel the rhythm and lilt of its humor as I walk west on Franklin Avenue. The sun is bright and a stiff wind stings my face and arms. On the sidewalk ahead of me one the residents of the East Seward Tower steps deliberately. Her hijab and long dark dress press tightly against her back and legs, wings of cloth flapping feverously in the agitated brilliance of early spring. She is too preoccupied with speaking to someone on the cell phone tucked tightly into the fabric framing her face to take much notice of me or the atmosphere, but the kaleidoscope of the moment sweeps me away.
In the glare of the afternoon sun the Minneapolis skyline washes away.
"The nice thing about losing your eyesight," says my ophthalmologist, "is that you can see whatever you want to see."
OK, so what if I let the images of the moment dissipate. The woman with the hijab, the traffic slipping by, the elm tree arching above me and even the trash can at the bus stop are all easy to squeeze out of the dishrag afternoon, but the sun and biting wind remain. My knuckles are stiff from gripping my walking stick. Extending the rubber tip to the cement makes me feel grounded, but that sensation of cold, raw tension in my fingers is impossible to eradicate, like the sun and the wind. It is a firm reality identical to walking the streets of Tuba City almost fifty years ago on the way to school.
My fingers often grow numb from the cold and icy wind while walking through the streets of the Bureau of Indian Affairs housing, by the boarding school, the trailer courts, and down Main Street to the public school. Willow street snakes its way past the houses of friends like the kid who calls himself the "Navajo Clown", even though he isn't Navajo, but he is quite the clown. Next to him is the cute brunette who is so serious a student that she frightens me. Further down the street lives the Morman girl that leads me to believe that Morman girls are the prettiest and most feminine of all. Her neighbor is the kid with a neat electric car track, a delightful little sister and a mother who laughs wildly when she listens to Johnny Cash sing "A Boy Named Sue".
When I pass the boarding school dorms I can't help but think of the twin girls living in the dorm where their mother works. I earnestly hope they don't come out and see me. They are far too sensual for me to feel comfortable around them.
When you move around as much as I do with my Mother and sisters the only thing you know is the road and your literature comes in the form of Berma Shave signs and mile markers. They define where you are, where you are going and who you will become.
Mileage Marker 4534
Spring 1964
My mother is on a mission from god.
Her theology dictates that God speaks Baptist, hates Catholics and Mormans, and that indian girls get pregnant before marriage.
Tuba City has lots of Catholics, Mormans and indians.
To make matters worse, the hymnals at the Baptist church speak Navajo.
She hates it here.
If she were to write a Burma Shave rhyme it might say:
Catholics here
Mormons there
This is the day
To hook the trailer
And pull away
God-The Baptist
With my mother I had to accept several important things:
01. The Bible is the ony valuable book
02. Baptists are the only ones to get it right
03. All boys are bad
04. Girls need to control boys
05. Never settle down and make friends because we'll be moving soon.
Tuba City, I couldn't help but think, is just another roadside stop.
"Hey, Jim, wait for me."
That's my walking companion. She lives right by the street that stops abruptly at the desert's edge. The desert extends east 'til you get to Nevada. Many of our houses have back yards that simply drift off into dunes, sagebrush and sandstone. From our back window I could sit down with a bologna sandwich and see the rugged edge of the Grand Canyon fifty miles away.
The wind presses her skirt against her legs and plays with her brown hair. She trots to my side, adjusting her ever-present headband. She smiles broadly. It's infectious. I'm fairly certain her blouse is becoming tighter.
"Oh look, a devil wind."
She runs and jumps in the middle of it, laughing.
"Come on, join me."
I am never all that comfortable being so compulsive and spontaneous, but she always seems ready to just fly into the now and engage it. I watch her and manage to smile warmly. At least I think I am. I switch my trumpet case to my left hand to releave my right, trying to cradle my book between my side and the horn. It works for a few minutes, giving my right hand a chance to losen up and get warm in my coat pocket. She looks comfortable in her sweater and has no trouble holding the book she is taking to school.
"What'd you do last night?", she asks.
"Wednesday night."
"Oh, right ... church?"
I nod. She chuckles.
"Ever wish you could just stay in one place for your whole life?"
She likes to ask me that question, almost every day, even though she enjoys hearing my stories of travel through Texas, Arizona and Colorado, never missing a Baptist church along the way. Then I would counter with "Ever wish you could just go out alone at night, miss that bible study your dad insists on every evening?"
Then she'd go silent for moment. The only time she couldn't say a word, when she thought of her dad, the curfew, the bible study ... and the night.
We are both puzzled about the bible. It just doesn't make sense how people can control people with something so old and out of touch. At thirteen we feel that it is not relevant to us so we created a secret "unbible", putting stuff in it that isn't in the bible, although we thought it should be, like how to have sex, dance and escape from parents. We can't write it down because they would see it.
The time on these walks is ours, away from our homes and out of school.
"What happened in choir yesterday? You were always able to sing higher than any of us girls. And then..."
"I know ... I know ... and it was so easy before. Now..."
A block away from school she walks ahead and stares back, briefly ... She smiles and straightens her headband ... She turns ... Her dress sways ... My fingers clutching the trumpet case and books ... quiver ...
* * *
Mileage Marker 21900
I grip the shaft of my walking stick with my left hand and twist the knob in my right palm. The woman in the hijab throws the cell phone into the depths of her leather purse ... She turns ... Her dress sways ...
I extend the rubber tip to the sidewalk and watch the traffic passing by on Franklin Avenue ... The wind bites through the fabric of my shirt.
To find
Your way
Outside the car
You must push
The door ajar
To myself
(josjr 2011 0720)
Monday, 8 November 2010
Infelocity
Infelocity
---------
her brother was planning
another of his mystery tours
--of the wilderness--
leaving without a plan--
no communication
as to
--destination
--duration
--motivation
just a sense that he
loved to be
somewhere
_else_
--alone
--isolated
--lost in a world
where he disappears
in spectral ecstasy
la contessa fretted
and yearned for a brother who
could just be there
--in a chair
--on the balcony
--in a short walk to the Birchwood
from her post-surgery wheelchair
and a foot in pain
--she accepted
--a memorial day invitation
on the eve of the delayed exploration
she waited
--half expecting him to disappoint
--once more
...
then he appeared,
as silently as he would often vanish--
late
but welcome
il matto wanted to ensure that
la contessa was safe on uneven sidwalks
dusty potholes and savage curbs
so he grabbed the handles of the
wheeled chair and pushed her
navigating
--as conversation--
passed between brother and sister
il matto was content to simply
listen
--silent--
watching for the buckling of
cement and bituminous road bed
=-at the restaurant he was scoffing
at the idea of flushing
korans into toilets at
guantanamo--
"how could you flush
a koran down the toilet?" -- he sneered --
unusually cynical and sarcastic --
all at once -- he was not
overtly
political --
he drew the smoke from his
cigarette
and exhaled in the direction
of la contessa's allergies --
how could he not have known?
he talked of books he wanted
to leave her
---
and plans for nieces to care
for the cat
but the trip itself
--was to remain concealed--
--a mystery to be unwound--
when the meal was done
il matto took the dishes inside,
returning to find that
her brother had
taken control of the chair
and was headed
back to the tree house
il matto quickened his pace
and caught up
to the two,
suggesting the asfalt alleyway--
he figured it was smoother
and less susceptible to her brother's
casual disregard for the terrain
...
that's when it occurred,
the conversation on childhood --
his reminiscence of their time
together ... as children ...
sharing secrets ...
connecting in ways la contessa
had long tried to
establish once more ...
he was in a new place,
almost calm,
a little boy pushing a waggon,
with his older sister
enjoying the ride --
"did you know" -- he suddendly said --
"that the secret name you gave me
was to basis for all my computer passwords?" --
the computer scientist,
the champion chess player,
the mountain climber
and
--wilderness trekker--
had laid it out there, on the
chessboard --
one last move --
--castling--
that most curious of defensive
acts--
--the master
giving up the keys to the castle--
"infelocity"
josjr (2010 1108)
http://josjr.com
---------
her brother was planning
another of his mystery tours
--of the wilderness--
leaving without a plan--
no communication
as to
--destination
--duration
--motivation
just a sense that he
loved to be
somewhere
_else_
--alone
--isolated
--lost in a world
where he disappears
in spectral ecstasy
la contessa fretted
and yearned for a brother who
could just be there
--in a chair
--on the balcony
--in a short walk to the Birchwood
from her post-surgery wheelchair
and a foot in pain
--she accepted
--a memorial day invitation
on the eve of the delayed exploration
she waited
--half expecting him to disappoint
--once more
...
then he appeared,
as silently as he would often vanish--
late
but welcome
il matto wanted to ensure that
la contessa was safe on uneven sidwalks
dusty potholes and savage curbs
so he grabbed the handles of the
wheeled chair and pushed her
navigating
--as conversation--
passed between brother and sister
il matto was content to simply
listen
--silent--
watching for the buckling of
cement and bituminous road bed
=-at the restaurant he was scoffing
at the idea of flushing
korans into toilets at
guantanamo--
"how could you flush
a koran down the toilet?" -- he sneered --
unusually cynical and sarcastic --
all at once -- he was not
overtly
political --
he drew the smoke from his
cigarette
and exhaled in the direction
of la contessa's allergies --
how could he not have known?
he talked of books he wanted
to leave her
---
and plans for nieces to care
for the cat
but the trip itself
--was to remain concealed--
--a mystery to be unwound--
when the meal was done
il matto took the dishes inside,
returning to find that
her brother had
taken control of the chair
and was headed
back to the tree house
il matto quickened his pace
and caught up
to the two,
suggesting the asfalt alleyway--
he figured it was smoother
and less susceptible to her brother's
casual disregard for the terrain
...
that's when it occurred,
the conversation on childhood --
his reminiscence of their time
together ... as children ...
sharing secrets ...
connecting in ways la contessa
had long tried to
establish once more ...
he was in a new place,
almost calm,
a little boy pushing a waggon,
with his older sister
enjoying the ride --
"did you know" -- he suddendly said --
"that the secret name you gave me
was to basis for all my computer passwords?" --
the computer scientist,
the champion chess player,
the mountain climber
and
--wilderness trekker--
had laid it out there, on the
chessboard --
one last move --
--castling--
that most curious of defensive
acts--
--the master
giving up the keys to the castle--
"infelocity"
josjr (2010 1108)
http://josjr.com
Day 21,646
Day 21,646 - 2010 1108
Belov-ED Days - 4,558
Sunday
James Oliver Smith, Jr.
http://josjr.com/
I Ching images
Fu Hsi 07: Energy, Great Nurture, Accumulation, Great Storage
-------- Mountain (Tower, Building, Wall, Boulder)
--- --- Hand
--- --- The Unmoving, The Restful, The Ancient
-------- Sky (Stars, Planets, Birds)
--------x Head
-------- The Seeking, The Creative, The Intellect
changing towards
Fu Hsi 23: Elegance, Grace, Adorning, Luxuriance
-------- Mountain (Tower, Building, Wall, Boulder)
--- --- Hand
--- --- The Unmoving, The Restful, The Ancient
-------- Fire (Sun, Campfire, Hearth, Vision, Visions)
--- --- Eye
-------- The Clinging, The Clarity, The Divination, The Visions
Day 26,646 - Images from the I Ching: Mountain [The Unmoving] over Sky [The Seeking] (Hexagram 07 - Energy) --> changing towards [line 2] --> Mountain [The Unmoving] over Fire [The Clinging] (Hexagram 23 - Elegance) ... In this image, the Sky spreads out within a valley surrounded by Mountains ... Within the Sky nestled between mountains there can be increased moisture and protection from extreme temperatures ... These conditions could favor the growth of crops, orchards and livestock ... From this comes the nurture of humanity ... Streams and rivers follow the open beds within the valley floor. It is here that rich soil abounds, around which cities, industry and jobs grow ... There is a special sensation that overcomes us as we descend from a high ridge into a fertile valley ... It is our visceral, innate understanding of the ways that the Universe provides opportunities for us to flourish and find safe places to establish homes and communities ... From this we can discern that those elements of life with which we so closely identify (language, community, relationships, careers, opportunities, dreams) are facilitated, enhanced, prompted, blocked and channeled by the fertile valleys that we encounter ...
There is one old inner Yang(Seeking) line in the second position that is dying. It will give birth to a new young Yin(Embracing) line, moving the inner Creative Sky towards the Clinging Fire ... This Fire will light up the Mountain from below, bringing into full radiant view the magnificence that surrounds us ... This may mean that we have worked diligently to develop relationships, tools, careers, skills, homes or community as the opporutnities presented by the Universe have appeared. Now we can think of presenting those accomplishments to the world around us ... Light up that Mountain, that world, that looms above and around us ... Allow that flame that is within us to demonstrate that which we have accomplished ... Yes, there is also a time for that ... Il Matto ...
http://ichingreflections.blogspot.com/
http://www.KindleBlog.josjr.com
http://www.IlMattoblog.josjr.com
http://www.LifeBlog.josjr.com
http://www.PerlBlog.josjr.com
http://www.WritingBlog.josjr.com
http://Addewid.blogspot.com
http://CyberPoetPlace.blogspot.com
http://IlMattoVero.blogspot.com
http://josjr69.blogspot.com
http://PerlCatalyst.blogspot.com
http://CyberKindle.blogspot.com
http://www.CyberPoet.com
www.addewid.com
www.fracturedparadise.com
www.roseannlloyd.com
www.cyberkindle.com
www.perlcatalyst.com
www.ciriad.com
Sunday, 7 November 2010
High Tech Intruder
High Tech Intruder
(inside Cray 2 lab - 1985)
---------
Early in the morning--
behind security
and windows
shut down with shades...
Classified
Secretive
Hidden from the eyes of the
Uncertified
complexity
thirty million dollars
to buy one
supercomputers we called them then
untouchable
protected
like magic wands
and incantations
a cold war maze
entranced by Crays
but in one corner
oblivious
of its transgression
--its belly softly quivering--
was a mouse
watching me
watching it
as flourinert
cascades down plexiglass
and gallium arsenide
there's a cruise missle somewhere
awaiting this--
the mouse skitters underneath
the floorboards
--where cables
slither
--and dwell
it's 3:00am
and the sun is far away
josjr (2010 1107)
http://josjr.com
(inside Cray 2 lab - 1985)
---------
Early in the morning--
behind security
and windows
shut down with shades...
Classified
Secretive
Hidden from the eyes of the
Uncertified
complexity
thirty million dollars
to buy one
supercomputers we called them then
untouchable
protected
like magic wands
and incantations
a cold war maze
entranced by Crays
but in one corner
oblivious
of its transgression
--its belly softly quivering--
was a mouse
watching me
watching it
as flourinert
cascades down plexiglass
and gallium arsenide
there's a cruise missle somewhere
awaiting this--
the mouse skitters underneath
the floorboards
--where cables
slither
--and dwell
it's 3:00am
and the sun is far away
josjr (2010 1107)
http://josjr.com
Dream 26,645
Dream 26,645
---------
i dreamed that we were
acrobats
on a trapeze ...
_you and i_
flying with the seemless music
of a silent night
imersed in the joy
of weightless
revelry
you and i--
--la contessa and il matto---
--through air
--through darkness
--through time
i turn over in the bed
and hold her
hovering
softly
just before the light
josjr (2010 1106)
---------
i dreamed that we were
acrobats
on a trapeze ...
_you and i_
flying with the seemless music
of a silent night
imersed in the joy
of weightless
revelry
you and i--
--la contessa and il matto---
--through air
--through darkness
--through time
i turn over in the bed
and hold her
hovering
softly
just before the light
josjr (2010 1106)
Saturday, 6 November 2010
Day 21,645
Day 21,645 - 2010 1106
Belov-ED Days - 4,556
Saturday
James Oliver Smith, Jr.
http://josjr.com/
I Ching images
Fu Hsi 21: Family, Household
-------- Wind (Spirit, Breath, Wood, Tree, Forest)
--------x Thighs
--- --- The Gentle, The Penetrating, The Spiritual, The Inspiration
-------- Fire (Sun, Light, Vision, Hearth, Campfire)
--- --- Eye
--------x The Clinging, The Clarity, The Warmth
changing towards
Fu Hsi 55: Stillness, Mountain, Solitude, Meditation
-------- Mountain (Boulder, Tower, Building, Wall)
--- --- Hand
--- --- The Unmoving, The Restful, The Obstacle
-------- Mountain (Boulder, Building, Wall, Tower, Cliff)
--- --- Hand
--- --- The Unmoving, The Ripose, The Obstacle, The Advantage
Day 26,645 - Images from the I Ching: Wind [The Gentle] over Fire [The Clinging] (Hexagram 21 - Family) --> changing towards [lines 1,5] --> Mountain [The Unmoving] over Mountain [The Mountain] (Hexagram 55 - Stillness) ... The first image is one of Wind(Spirit) over Fire, a strong indicator of souls(people) gathered around the community fire, their breaths mingling beneath the open sky, within a shared cavern, in a meeting hall or even in a publich square ... This could be a place of worship, an evening meal or simply the beginning or ending of the day ... These are times when humans communicate, commiserate or participate in shared activities ... Warmth emanates from the fire and a sense of security can rise from the presence of kindred spirits ... There is strength within a community that has created a context for this sharing experience ...
Two Yang(Seeking) lines are dying bringing about both inner and outer changes. Both the Wind and the Fire move in the direction of Mountain, forming Mountain over Mountain, the Unmoving. A strong, supportive and healthy community can offer the stability of the Mountain, as well as the wisdom that comes down from the Mountain as the sages return from their meditations on high ledges. Even the most nefarious threats can be held back by this stalwart Moutain ... Il Matto ...
http://ichingreflections.blogspot.com/
http://www.KindleBlog.josjr.com
http://www.IlMattoblog.josjr.com
http://www.LifeBlog.josjr.com
http://www.PerlBlog.josjr.com
http://www.WritingBlog.josjr.com
http://Addewid.blogspot.com
http://CyberPoetPlace.blogspot.com
http://IlMattoVero.blogspot.com
http://josjr69.blogspot.com
http://PerlCatalyst.blogspot.com
http://CyberKindle.blogspot.com
http://www.CyberPoet.com
www.addewid.com
www.fracturedparadise.com
www.roseannlloyd.com
www.cyberkindle.com
www.perlcatalyst.com
www.ciriad.com
Friday, 5 November 2010
Day 21,643
Day 21,643 - 2010 1105
Belov-ED Days - 4,555
Friday
James Oliver Smith, Jr
http://josjr.com/
I Ching images
Fu Hsi 58: Assembling, Gathering, Bringing Together
--- --- Lake (River, Brook, Ocean, Sea, Pond)
--------x Mouth
-------- The Joyful, The Happiness, The Expression, The Emotion
--- --- Earth (Land, Ground, Canyon, Valley)
--- --- Belly, Solar Plexus
--- --- The Embracing, The Creation, The Yielding
changing towards
Fu Hsi 60: Repose, Harmony, Enthusiasm, Delight
--- --- Thunder (Lightning, Electricity, Viper)
--- --- Foot
-------- The Arousal, The Movement, The Action
--- --- Earth (Plains, Valley, Desert, Canyon, Ground)
--- --- Belly, Solar Plexus
--- --- The Embracing, The Creation, The Yielding
Day 26,643 - Images from the I Ching: Lake [The Joyous] over Earth [The Embracing] (Hexagram 58 - Assembling) --> changing towards [lines 5] --> Thunder [The Arousal] over Earth [The Embracing] (Hexagram 60 - Repose) ... One of the things I enjoy about each image from the I Ching is that there is always a connection to the artifacts and activities of every era ... In Lake over Earth we have water that is contained or channeled in some way upon the Earth, like a sea, a river, a pond or a stream ... These channels and reservoirs, visually and functionally, are great natural analogs for network nodes and communication links ... Like computer and telecommunication networks, the images of Lake spread over Earth is an image of Assembling, Gathering and Bringing Together ... The Joyful, expressive, mouth of the Lake calls out, draws people into community through the Earth, giving rise to cities, cultures, languages, rituals and customs, the things which link us together into a network of nations, roads, continents and cities ... They are the neurons of our brains, the rivers of Earth and mechanics of the galactic that define us, our personalities and our destinies ... This is an image in which we can celebrate the interconnectedness of everything we are individually and collectively ...
The outer aging Yang(Seeking) line in the fifth position of the Hexagram is dying and giving birth to the Yin(Embracing line that will bring the Lake into the electric catalyst of Thunder crackling in the wake of fresh storms that recharge the Earth, nourish the green world and surround us all with the essence of the living ... Il Matto ...
http://ichingreflections.blogspot.com/
http://www.KindleBlog.josjr.com
http://www.IlMattoblog.josjr.com
http://www.LifeBlog.josjr.com
http://www.PerlBlog.josjr.com
http://www.WritingBlog.josjr.com
http://Addewid.blogspot.com
http://CyberPoetPlace.blogspot.com
http://IlMattoVero.blogspot.com
http://josjr69.blogspot.com
http://PerlCatalyst.blogspot.com
http://CyberKindle.blogspot.com
http://www.CyberPoet.com
www.addewid.com
www.fracturedparadise.com
www.roseannlloyd.com
www.cyberkindle.com
www.perlcatalyst.com
www.ciriad.com
ah, the west
ah, the west
---------
someone speaks of the "west"
---of being lost
in another place
or time
missing something
that was there
---wanting it
through open doors--magic--
maybe we can go there
---
see it
feel it
magic holds us
im memory
seeks us like a dragon--fire breath--and all--
flames licking
at the hair we have grown
singing skin
since
grown harsh like leather
warm like smooth tires
tread almost invisible
memories rubbed raw
contorted
at the tip of tongue--beyond--
on my own I reach back
try to touch it
see it fade
wish it was mine
to have
and I think
that I should be able
to
fragments
streams of Burma Shave
advertisments
on highways
fuzzy brooks
of water
laughing
I want what _she_ is having...
a childhood door
to walk through,
one that lingers
softly
warmly
invitingly...
what I have are white lines
on asfalt
mile markers I would watch
ascend
descend
computing the passage
in my _west_
the tread on the wheels
boils
burns
sticks to my fingers
when touched
resistent to the scrub
of brush
of soap
of
nostalgia...
josjr (2010 1105)
http://josjr.com
---------
someone speaks of the "west"
---of being lost
in another place
or time
missing something
that was there
---wanting it
through open doors--magic--
maybe we can go there
---
see it
feel it
magic holds us
im memory
seeks us like a dragon--fire breath--and all--
flames licking
at the hair we have grown
singing skin
since
grown harsh like leather
warm like smooth tires
tread almost invisible
memories rubbed raw
contorted
at the tip of tongue--beyond--
on my own I reach back
try to touch it
see it fade
wish it was mine
to have
and I think
that I should be able
to
fragments
streams of Burma Shave
advertisments
on highways
fuzzy brooks
of water
laughing
I want what _she_ is having...
a childhood door
to walk through,
one that lingers
softly
warmly
invitingly...
what I have are white lines
on asfalt
mile markers I would watch
ascend
descend
computing the passage
in my _west_
the tread on the wheels
boils
burns
sticks to my fingers
when touched
resistent to the scrub
of brush
of soap
of
nostalgia...
josjr (2010 1105)
http://josjr.com
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
Day 21,641
Day 21,641 - 2010 1103
Belov-ED Days - 4,553
Wednesday
James Oliver Smith, Jr
http://josjr.com/
I Ching images
Fu Hsi 29: Gain, Benefit, Increasing
-------- Wind (Spirit, Breath, Wood, Trees, Forest)
-------- Thighs
--- --- The Gentle, The Penetrating, The Spiritual, The Green World
--- --- Thunder (Lightning, Electricity)
--- --- Foot
-------- The Arousal, The Movement, The Catalyst
No changes
Day 26,641 - Images from the I Ching: Wind [The Gentle] over Thunder [The Arousal] (Hexagram 29 - Gain) --> No changes ... Internally, the catalystic force of thunder ignites the wind, and breath and spirit that envelops us ... We are inspired by the presence of dark woods and the smell of fresh rain that drips from the leaves of trees and settles into the shrubs of the underbrush. The energy of the storm infuses with the moist breeze and we gaze down the paths that radiate from the meadow that we may find ... It is peaceful, in an electric way, for there is much to explore, even some anxiety about the next step to be taken. Perhaps we are driven to enter the foliage, partake of dew-sweet berries or climb a tree for a better view. Our bodies quake in a context such as this. We can hardly contain the intensity, or the drive that pulses within us ... There is much to gain here, but wind and rain, electricity and storm clouds can force decisions to be made hastily, in fear or confusion ... The image, however, contains an element of nutrition and health from the rain, and our lungs can breath in the invirogated wind that sways the limbs overhead ... There are no changing lines here ... This makes it a good time to look carefully at each of the paths that become visible ... Pick a path, but prepare for the journey, taking advantage of the fruits the rain has brought ... the last few days have shone several images without change ... Ihis may be a chance to take steps deliberately ... Enjoy each one taken ... Relish it ... Il Matto ...
http://ichingreflections.blogspot.com/
http://www.KindleBlog.josjr.com
http://www.IlMattoblog.josjr.com
http://www.LifeBlog.josjr.com
http://www.PerlBlog.josjr.com
http://www.WritingBlog.josjr.com
http://Addewid.blogspot.com
http://CyberPoetPlace.blogspot.com
http://IlMattoVero.blogspot.com
http://josjr69.blogspot.com
http://PerlCatalyst.blogspot.com
http://CyberKindle.blogspot.com
http://www.CyberPoet.com
www.addewid.com
www.fracturedparadise.com
www.roseannlloyd.com
www.cyberkindle.com
www.perlcatalyst.com
www.ciriad.com
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
Kindle, Ballot and Magnifying Glass
Kindle, Ballot and Magnifying Glass
despite the ads that tell me how to "see",,,
my one
---eye
with artificial lens
(AcrySoft IQ
---Model SN62WF
---Serial #11017294 028
)
Flinches at the very
---glint
---of rhetoric ... and glare[d]-->
arguments are as dim
...witted...
as those tiny ovals that my pen
_must_ penetrate
if I am to count ...
While being counted ... worthy ...
of citizen ... shipped away ... like
ballast ...
Jobs ... they blame the Chinese ...
We see myriad faces of India ... Somali ...
And recruiters with strong accents ...
We are all tied (together) ...
There is no us/them ::: rather us :::
yet we want to blame ... someone ...
for _our_
---our-ness...
i can't see the little ovals that I must
color in
---
||| between the |||
---
lines
my kindle stares (blinkless) on artifical/real
sized letters ...
---an ink(ling) of what can come
if i can just see (the damn little oval with
my well-lit magifying glass ...
an old man (you know the old man you used to see
---tapping with his (leki) hiking stick down
Franklin Avenue ... (oh yeah --- that's ... ahem ... me ...
[someone said] silent [walking dead we can sometimes be]
i transfer (liberal) names from kindle (e)ink
to dim ovals [gentle eggs of easter/muslim/christian ...
I'm not _really_ a witch ... gimme the gun ... let me shoot
that liberal health care bill ... bulls eye] ---
My eye is tired ... does it _really_
...want
---to see a sea of talking heads
and ticker tapes of some results
from a one-party media[cracy]?
i vote liberal liberally ...
me and my kindle and magnify[cent] glass ---
---it tells me through the crystal ---
that the little oval needs to be im[pregnant] with
kindle e[pen] ink or the scanner just won't see
so I scan the columns ... try to find
the hidden [easter] eggs and paint them with
goddess spirals [blue/black] something dark ...
---my SN62WF swallows the refraction
of the lit-lens magnify[cent] and color them
that dark color ---
of bloated
--gloat-- that self-proclaimed w[h]in[n]ers
_wish_ they had ...
but (in the end) the whole world ... will bleed ...
[dark] green and red [[[regardless]]]
of how the eggs will bleed ...
the scanner "saw" it all ...
the magnify[cent] glass closed up and
nestled in my pocket next to the cell[phone] ---
--- and my kindle slipped its grayscale softness
into the silence ---
my SN62WF worked hard to tell the difference
between a sign post, a shadow and trash can ...
my consolation is cancellation of one
conservative em[v]oting conservatively
and we flip the disk to the other side
---of---a/b---b/a---
media[cracy] ... Il Matto ...
josjr (2010 1102)
despite the ads that tell me how to "see",,,
my one
---eye
with artificial lens
(AcrySoft IQ
---Model SN62WF
---Serial #11017294 028
)
Flinches at the very
---glint
---of rhetoric ... and glare[d]-->
arguments are as dim
...witted...
as those tiny ovals that my pen
_must_ penetrate
if I am to count ...
While being counted ... worthy ...
of citizen ... shipped away ... like
ballast ...
Jobs ... they blame the Chinese ...
We see myriad faces of India ... Somali ...
And recruiters with strong accents ...
We are all tied (together) ...
There is no us/them ::: rather us :::
yet we want to blame ... someone ...
for _our_
---our-ness...
i can't see the little ovals that I must
color in
---
||| between the |||
---
lines
my kindle stares (blinkless) on artifical/real
sized letters ...
---an ink(ling) of what can come
if i can just see (the damn little oval with
my well-lit magifying glass ...
an old man (you know the old man you used to see
---tapping with his (leki) hiking stick down
Franklin Avenue ... (oh yeah --- that's ... ahem ... me ...
[someone said] silent [walking dead we can sometimes be]
i transfer (liberal) names from kindle (e)ink
to dim ovals [gentle eggs of easter/muslim/christian ...
I'm not _really_ a witch ... gimme the gun ... let me shoot
that liberal health care bill ... bulls eye] ---
My eye is tired ... does it _really_
...want
---to see a sea of talking heads
and ticker tapes of some results
from a one-party media[cracy]?
i vote liberal liberally ...
me and my kindle and magnify[cent] glass ---
---it tells me through the crystal ---
that the little oval needs to be im[pregnant] with
kindle e[pen] ink or the scanner just won't see
so I scan the columns ... try to find
the hidden [easter] eggs and paint them with
goddess spirals [blue/black] something dark ...
---my SN62WF swallows the refraction
of the lit-lens magnify[cent] and color them
that dark color ---
of bloated
--gloat-- that self-proclaimed w[h]in[n]ers
_wish_ they had ...
but (in the end) the whole world ... will bleed ...
[dark] green and red [[[regardless]]]
of how the eggs will bleed ...
the scanner "saw" it all ...
the magnify[cent] glass closed up and
nestled in my pocket next to the cell[phone] ---
--- and my kindle slipped its grayscale softness
into the silence ---
my SN62WF worked hard to tell the difference
between a sign post, a shadow and trash can ...
my consolation is cancellation of one
conservative em[v]oting conservatively
and we flip the disk to the other side
---of---a/b---b/a---
media[cracy] ... Il Matto ...
josjr (2010 1102)
Day 21,640
Day 21,640 - 2010 1102
Belov-ED Days - 4,552
Tuesday
James Oliver Smith, Jr
http://josjr.com/
I Ching images
Fu Hsi 08: Peace, Advance, Unity, Greatness
--- --- Earth (Ground, Valley, Canyon, Desert, Plains)
--- --- Belly, Solar Plexus
--- --- The Embracing, The Creation, The Yielding, The Centeredness
--------x Sky (Stars, Planets, Birds)
-------- Head
-------- The Seeking, The Creative, The Logic
changing towards
Fu Hsi 16: Approach, Promotion, Approach, The Forest
--- --- Earth (Ground, Canyon, Desert, Valley, Plains)
--- --- Belly, Solar Plexus
--- --- The Embracing, The Creation, The Yielding, The Centeredness
--- --- Lake (Spring, Brook, River, Sea, Ocean)
-------- Mouth
-------- The Joyous, The Happiness
Day 26,640 - Images from the I Ching: Earth [The Embracing] over Sky [The Seeking] (Hexagram 08 - Peace) --> changing towards [line 3] --> Earth [The Embracing] over Lake [The Joyous] (Hexagram 16 - Approach) ... At the end of the first (Sky) octave in the Hexagram sequence (phase 8), The Embracing external Earth holds the superior postion over the Seeking internal Sky ... this is a position of balenced energy between these two polar opposite elements of the Universe ... This balence of Earth over Sky is often characterized by peace, harmony and security ... This is also an image of balenced tension between the force of Creation (Earth) and power of Creativity (Sky): the idea and its realization ... The head is subordiante to the centering belly ... The need of our physical, emotional and spiritual self will drive the logically creative force of the head ... There is much potential here for useful inventiveness ... No need for whimsy here ... This is a sign of practicality, mutual respect and shared accomplishment ...
There is one aging inner Yang(Seeking) line that will die and give birth to a young Yin(Embracing) line and this brings the inner Sky towards the Joyful Lake, a natural consequence of peaceful, shared accomplishment ... Earth over lake is an immage of an underground river or stream reaching, bubbling up to, breaking onto the surface of the Earth, an expression from deep within us of a rich and profound fulfillment of that which has compelled us, intrigued us and enriched us ... Il Matto ...
http://ichingreflections.blogspot.com/
http://www.KindleBlog.josjr.com
http://www.IlMattoblog.josjr.com
http://www.LifeBlog.josjr.com
http://www.PerlBlog.josjr.com
http://www.WritingBlog.josjr.com
http://Addewid.blogspot.com
http://CyberPoetPlace.blogspot.com
http://IlMattoVero.blogspot.com
http://josjr69.blogspot.com
http://PerlCatalyst.blogspot.com
http://CyberKindle.blogspot.com
http://www.CyberPoet.com
www.addewid.com
www.fracturedparadise.com
www.roseannlloyd.com
www.cyberkindle.com
www.perlcatalyst.com
www.ciriad.com
Monday, 1 November 2010
Day 21,639
Day 21,639 - 2010 1101
Belov-ED Days - 4,551
Monday
James Oliver Smith, Jr
http://josjr.com/
I Ching images
Fu Hsi 40: Ascending, Advancement, Growing Upward
--- --- Earth (Ground, Valley, Canyon, Plains, Desert)
--- --- Belly, Solar Plexus
--- --- The Embracing, The Creation, The Yielding, The Centering
--------x Wind (Spirit, Breath, Wind, Wood, Trees)
--------x Thighs
--- --- The Gentle, The Penetrating, The Spiritual, The Soul
changing towards
Fu Hsi 64: Nature, Earth, Creation, Resonding, Embracing, Centering
--- --- Earth (Ground, Valley, Canyon, Desert, Plains)
--- --- Belly, Solar Plexus
--- --- The Embracing, The Creation, The Yielding, The Centering
--- --- Earth (Ground, Building, Wall, Tower, Cliff)
--- --- Belly, Solar Plexus
--- --- The Embracing, The Creation, The Yielding, The Centering
Day 26,639 - Images from the I Ching: Earth [The Embracing] over Wind [The Gentle] (Hexagram 40 - Advancement) --> changing towards [lines 2,3] --> Earth [The Embracing] over Earth [The Embracing] (Hexagram 64 - Nature) ... After two stable days teeming with the bristling energy of Thunder, now the Universe brings the usual change in the midst of Earth over Wind ... This is a sign that could indicate a time ripe for advancement ... the Wood(Wind) is waiting just below the surface of the Earth, ready for the right moment to start its path to the sky ... A tree neither advances quickly nor inappropriately ... it has the time to wait ... Trees often need fire or ice or cracks in stone to signal the moment for germination, sprouting and opening to the sun ... We all have many plans, ideas, dreams that linger beneath the surface of our days ... waiting ... for that moment when they can rise to the surface and expand within our lives ... But even if the moment is slow to unfold, it is important to remember that they are there and that they will need to be allowed to flourish ...
The inner Spirit(Wind) possesses two aging/dying Yang(Seeking) lines that will shift the inner image to the Embracing Earth ... The Earth itself will be receptive to those things we need to do when the valleys, canyons and even deserts provide open passageways ... We, ourselves, are the only ones who can walk these paths and we are the only ones who can ignore them ... The Earth is receptive, but it is also indifferent ... an avalanche, a collapsing wall or a flash flood are only following the paths open to them, just as we must follow the paths open to us ... or ... everything will be buried, never seeing the sun ... Il Matto ...
http://ichingreflections.blogspot.com/
http://www.KindleBlog.josjr.com
http://www.IlMattoblog.josjr.com
http://www.LifeBlog.josjr.com
http://www.PerlBlog.josjr.com
http://www.WritingBlog.josjr.com
http://Addewid.blogspot.com
http://CyberPoetPlace.blogspot.com
http://IlMattoVero.blogspot.com
http://josjr69.blogspot.com
http://PerlCatalyst.blogspot.com
http://CyberKindle.blogspot.com
http://www.CyberPoet.com
www.addewid.com
www.fracturedparadise.com
www.roseannlloyd.com
www.cyberkindle.com
www.perlcatalyst.com
www.ciriad.com
The Dream Of A Friend
The Dream Of A Friend
a friend spoke of a cemetery dream
and i thought of Italy
--his house
--our conversations
--associations feeding Pasolini
that feeds my mind
and there
--In the cemetery
--reminiscing on a life
--Revealed
--Unveiled
--In visions
Soft obscure
and internet
snippets
--do we understand the form?
--Pasolini writes of poverty
I feel the strings of history--protest--
wars I didn't understand
--the friend had paid _his_ price
--Pasolini _his_
we all wonder about that twisted curve of time
--how it all brings us
--somehow
--back
to a place where names like
--Springfield
--verse
--and dreams of cemeteries
accumulate
like bodies--resting?--vexing?--flexing?--
with the awareness--or not--
that
_anyone_
was present ...
josjr (2010 1101)
a friend spoke of a cemetery dream
and i thought of Italy
--his house
--our conversations
--associations feeding Pasolini
that feeds my mind
and there
--In the cemetery
--reminiscing on a life
--Revealed
--Unveiled
--In visions
Soft obscure
and internet
snippets
--do we understand the form?
--Pasolini writes of poverty
I feel the strings of history--protest--
wars I didn't understand
--the friend had paid _his_ price
--Pasolini _his_
we all wonder about that twisted curve of time
--how it all brings us
--somehow
--back
to a place where names like
--Springfield
--verse
--and dreams of cemeteries
accumulate
like bodies--resting?--vexing?--flexing?--
with the awareness--or not--
that
_anyone_
was present ...
josjr (2010 1101)
Thursday, 14 October 2010
Day 26,621
Day 26,621 - Images from the I Ching: Earth [The Embracing] over Lake [The Joyous] (Fu Hsi 16 - Approach) --> changing towards [line 2] --> Earth [The Embracing] over Thunder [The Arousal] (Fu Hsi 32 - Returning) ... Within the outer Earth there is an inner joyous spring (Lake) that is on the verge of breaking through to the surface a...nd nurturing that which lives on the surface ... This is an image of Approach, Promotion, Forest ... The forest is a place teeming with life. This life can only exist when the waters from high places on Earth flow deep into the rivers running within the belly of Earth ... This inner river is there within each of us, we need only to let it rise up from our own depths and enter the world ... our contribution to community, relationships and self ... one old yang(Seeking) line within this inner Lake will die and rise again as a young, yin(Embracing) line, moving the trigram of Lake to Thunder, The Initiator, The Arousal. From within the Earth this could be a quake that destroys some old structure that has become rigid, tight and confining to us, liberating us ... This distruction of internal structures is a return to the raw foundation of our existance ... This is an opportunity to use what we know now to build anew ... And from where will this energy to rebuild come from? ... Why, from the inner spring, of course! ... Let's enjoy this new instance of ourselves ... Il Matto ...
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