POETS AT PLAY IN THE FIELDS OF THE DEAN

Ontime

"Hurry up," the poet said,
"It's time," time
time in that sort of
"runic rhyme" another said,
and there isn't much left
as if it were the store
the Prophet Elijah left of
flour and wine, never
diminished each day, but
time doesn't work that way.
We do.

To finish, I remember
how much I loved
hearing my Samoan
students, my eighth
grade bandits as we
called them, shout,
"Finish" when a tedious
assignment ended.  "Finish"
and for me too, I've
always wanted, "Finish" to
see how the ending went
a surprise or a prediction,
and then I'd know, understand
and the next time I'd be
prepared except, time doesn't
work that way.  It doesn't
work at all.  We do.

As if it's some marathon
we find ourselves in
for our lifetime, and we
don't know how far or long
we'll run, and we know we won't
be winners now.  We feel our joints
our lack of energy.

But, we have to finish
our projects, I say, and then
the poetry, the music,
the photographs, who
will really care, and who will
even look at what we've
done, just another
generation in its own
marathon, running towards
a finish they will never know,
but wanting to after years,
to shout as my students
did, "Finish!" and oh,
the joy of it.



 ~~ Pat Maslowski  April 23, 2012

Time Juggling

There is a Christian tradition
of a common bond
"the communion of saints"
stretching backward and forward
through time and beyond.

Sinners like you and me
and humanity writ large
travel on the parade route
hoping god loves clowns
and jugglers.

We juggle time-temptations
hoping someone finds it amusing
(most likely children if not he who shall not be named)
and paint our faces to hide our fears
knowing parades end.



By Phil Specht on April 23, 2012



 

The Page You Are Looking For Does Not Exist.

(Your comment was successfully added.)


and the blog started by Howard Dean
disappears into the e-ther
like a Presidential campaign
activism successfully added.

not to worry

Homeland Security archives all
and e-historians may note
what magic keeps one conversation
going year after year after year

something about
"You have the power"
"What I want to know"
on a page that does not need
to exist.


By Phil Specht  April 23, 2012

One month past spring and two thirds away from summer. . . .

***The National Weather Service has issued a Winter Storm Watch for the counties of Highland, Pendleton, Grant and Hardy from late tonight through Monday evening. There is potential for 2" to 4" of wet snow in these areas creating hazardous travel conditions, and caution is urged.***

So for Earth Day, we have Global Climate Instability on the plate. . . .

Yo Mama. . . .

*Still in Love with Howard Dean*

Amy Swagman

Passing Them On

Nothing in culture

finds memory not useful.

Double negative in all lessons

ascribed to higher powers

but born in umbilical blood

and first cry.

Ideas might die

they will be re-born

every seed a resurrection

an insurrection

an arab spring.

Try and put it down

people power, freedom

you will not.

The next baby born

 is Mandela.  

By Phil Specht on April 21, 2012

 

Vincent – A One Man Show



It's those spiraling lights
suns on a roller coaster ride.
You are outside with him
a candle in your hand
watching his brush swirl
the paint and you're not
sure which is brighter,
stars that you now see
as he sees or as he places
them on the canvas fused
with sky, blossoming.



His hand makes its own
story of creation expanding
into nights heating and pumping
beyond body into trees, village,
hills, and you are here as witness.



Too much resonance to be
contained in hand, skin, bones
the villagers in Arles mocked
him, chased him and pelted
him with stones. Despite his
agony he painted, left as surety
for unpaid rent his visions by
hand, heart, and soul that
he taught us to see and feel
a nature we would not discover
on our own. “ I cannot live
without being loved,” he said,
better to sleep, to become stone.
“You take a train to get to
the city, but it takes death
to get to a star.” Was this
his longing all along, to return
to Creation's burning source?



“Theo, I could die like this.” 

 

~~ Pat Maslowski  

 

 

Leonard Nimoy wrote and acted in 

Vincent, a one man show, published    

by Rumbleseat Productions, 2006

Chatsworth, CA.

 

 

Wardrobe note: wear suspenders

The clothes make the man.

if he is comfortable in his own skin

only at first impression.

A costume.

But a gaze

then nearer still a touch

and it all disappears.

Confused

a moth in daylight

cannot smell

at night drawn to flame

And crossing mid stage

and exit to the left

an approach for pause

mid line

turning, leading lady,

to catch your eye.

To meet in eternity.

By Phil Specht on April 17, 2012

When a mind is great enough to ignore common prejudice. . . .

As a young rake. . . .

Many years ago, Herman Wolf was entertaining a guest at his parents' rural home near Bremen, Germany, when, in general conversation, Wolf's mother mentioned that a huge pond in their garden was "leaking".

The guest said he might be able to help and immediately fashioned a forked dowsing rod.

Taking the rod, he walked out to the pond and in a short time pinpointed the exact location of the underground flow that was draining the pond. The Wolfs were delighted and even more so when heir guest proceeded to teach them the fine points of the art of
dowsing.

Herman Wolf was actually more amazed than delighted because his friend and guest was none other that the celebrated scientist Albert Einstein.

-- George Cunningham-Tee
Toronto Sun Syndicate

Dousing

leading photons on trails of gravity

like harriers following lift south

the spin changed when our night twin

flew to the moon

but water still flows downhill

so divining rod in hand

let me witch you a well

pure and sweet as a sacrament

eternal

By Phil Specht on April 15, 2012

Over at the Achalasia board this morning I was thinking how much every place I blog (with the *notable* exception of here) comes with the same cast of characters. . . . The YES-BUT, the Catastrophiser, the Negative-Nelly, the Scorpion, the Do-Bees (gladly, they are more than the others), the Helper Bees, the Helpless, the Hopeless. True for both of my dating sites, the BBB, the A-group. Not so true of facebook, because you have more choice? Also, facebook heuristics seem to change who you see on your feed page, over time: those you respond to most often, show more often, those you read and pass on show less often. I was surprised to go checking on my peeps I hadn't seen for a while to note they had been posting all along, just not showing in my feed. So the essence of facebook is that you get more of what you like, less of what you don't -- which is more like what we do in real life, and much less like your average blog. . . .

Friday, April 13, 2012 6:47 PM, EDT

Clear Scans!!!

We also spent time talking with Ally's Oncologist today. As many of you know we are now done with the 3f8 treatment at MSKCC. We (Mommy and Daddy) are/were very nervous to completely stop treatment, as Neuroblastoma is very aggressive and tends to come back, usually with a vengeance. After talking with the doctor it is clear that any treatment (chemo, MIGB therapy, different antibodies, etc.) would just cause side effects, and is not proven to prevent the cancer from coming back. Not only would further treatment have a whole host of side effects, it would make whatever treatment we were doing less effective, should the tumor return. So...our plan is to completely stop treatment. Ally will continue to be scanned (MIBG only) every 3 months. This will expose her to less radiation (as the CT scan is relatively high radiation) and save her the pain of bone marrows. We are all hopeful that the chemo, radiation, surgeries, and 3f8 did what they were supposed to do, and that Ally will remain NED.

We also spoke with the nutritionist at our NH Medical Center today. Ally has plateaued in her weight gain. She is stuck at 27.5 pounds (and today she was 38 inches tall). An average 3 year old girl weighs a little more than 27 pounds, and an average 5 year old girl should weigh around 40 pounds. A 3 and a half year old girl is around 38 inches, and a 5 year old girl should be closer to 43 inches. We are going to try a few changes to her diet to see if it will help with her 3-4 daily #2 bathroom trips (her food just goes right through her), and see if that helps her keep the weight on. It is also a possibility that she is just using all of her calories; because she is so active. Hopefully we will be able to get more weight on her, and hopefully, since her 2nd tooth came out tonight she will eat better as well!

That's all for now! (Except that we are looking into starting her immunizations up again, as she has none at this point and we are trusting in the Concord community to immunize their kids, so Ally won't get polio as well!) We will scan again in July. We all have vacation in a couple of weeks, and we are excited about the upcoming warm weather. Have a fantastic weekend. Hopefully I will not have to update for a while!!!

This just in (it isn’t even up on her message board yet!)

Clear Scans for Ally!!!

Yesterday, my friends who gave me The Goobey

had a baby hummingbird fly in the window. She thought it was a bumble bee, lol! Found some emergency hummer food (doesn't normally use the red stuff), fed him and he flew away.

DOZD 2012 Sanandaj Iran

Monday, April 9, 2012 12:37 PM, EDT

This Friday is going to be a lucky Friday the 13th. That is the day Ally will have her MIBG scan. Since she is off treatment and has been in remission for 2 years we are down to just one scan!

We will also have a sit down with the oncologist to discuss what our next steps will be.

Please keep Ally in your prayers for continued clear scans!

hattip to the Llama song

ceocrocker

Todd Gipstein

Indy

Today I picked up a rock that looked like an arrowhead

(out of habit I'm always looking)

but it was just a piece of stone

that if worked had been rejected.

When my son was young (but past the age of needing

the occasional lift on the shoulders) we would hike the hills

in search of artifacts and poke around the "Indian caves."

He became "Indy, boy archeologist;" and

I earned the title "bogus archeologist;"

because by then he had studied enough to know woodland tribes

never lived in rock shelters, even as I estimated 3 feet of time-soil

lay over the ashes of a campfire built as the glaciers passed to the west

and remained sure the spring too handy and the cave too protected

not to invite habitation to wanderers in a strange land.

So now that his spirit inhabits the same space

time continuum as the first nation people's ancestors

I would like to ask him to settle the argument.

Was I right to feel their presence under the bluff?

Or now his with the red tail's cry?

I do know a young "Indiana Jones" is with me

every time I bend to hold the past in my hand.

By Phil Specht on Mar 28, 2012

Bluesmaster

DFA is killing the blog at the end of April. Suggesting we join them on facebook or tweeter. . . .

practice tweets they were, I saved them to pester a tweeety bird poet friend, lol
By Phil Specht on Mar 23, 2012



- the intolerable half load of 140

By Phil Specht on Mar 23, 2012


burdened beast of speech betrayed

truncated,voided

for no two ideas

essential for debate to be held half hitch

join

but half hitched

topple



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

corner gps found

blackberry bound

could be friends almost meet

had eyes left gaze of tiny screen

thumbs quiet

index finger salute to Jobs

goodbye

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



trees the right height



thrush throat

morn to be born

territory but no mate

no nest, first melody



melody tableau

warbler tree high

lark meadow low