Sunday, November 25, 2018
About Minerva
Minerva is a 4-year-old Maine Coon mix. Eric and I found ourselves lucky enough to adopt her into our family on 16 September 2018. She is amazing and magnificent.
A Sanity in a World Insane
Written in 2010, published in 2011 (in The Teacher's Selection Anthology of Poetry)
A chord on paper, emotions are heard.
The chime carries out
Through movies, in songs.
The music makes noise, emotions.
A lament of lost love or an exciting love found,
Either politics or just for the sound,
Music plays.
A universal talent, a story unleashed.
For every country, town, or man,
The music plays on.
A horn, a flute, a drum, a chant,
Notes are weaved into rhythms;
Rhythms that set the cold heart running.
Passion in love, in hatred is cunning
To the ear and to the brain.
Every moment, every day.
Guitar strings plucked, piano pedals pressed,
A voice in calm surrender to the waves of the treble clef.
Keys clicking, and slides slurring, valves unendingly stick.
Seventy-six trombones accompanied by the sheet with the bass clef tick,
The music always is playing.
In Morocco, in India, and even Taiwan,
The music plays on.
In a world of robotic thoughts, music composes new ideas, original feelings, and a joy so sweet that even Beethoven must have heard it:
Music: A Sanity in a World Insane.
A chord on paper, emotions are heard.
The chime carries out
Through movies, in songs.
The music makes noise, emotions.
A lament of lost love or an exciting love found,
Either politics or just for the sound,
Music plays.
A universal talent, a story unleashed.
For every country, town, or man,
The music plays on.
A horn, a flute, a drum, a chant,
Notes are weaved into rhythms;
Rhythms that set the cold heart running.
Passion in love, in hatred is cunning
To the ear and to the brain.
Every moment, every day.
Guitar strings plucked, piano pedals pressed,
A voice in calm surrender to the waves of the treble clef.
Keys clicking, and slides slurring, valves unendingly stick.
Seventy-six trombones accompanied by the sheet with the bass clef tick,
The music always is playing.
In Morocco, in India, and even Taiwan,
The music plays on.
In a world of robotic thoughts, music composes new ideas, original feelings, and a joy so sweet that even Beethoven must have heard it:
Music: A Sanity in a World Insane.
Valuing Nuance, Respect, and Empathy
Definitions
nu·ancea subtle difference or distinction in expression, meaning, response, etc.re·spect
an attitude of admiration or esteemem·pa·thy
the ability to understand and share the feelings of another
Why this matters
A happy consequence of learning that nuance and conflict exist all around us--meaning of course that there can be endless valid (or "right") perspectives to a single topic--is that we are able to communicate our true respect for others as we differ in our opinions. We allow others to have had real and important viewpoints regarding shared experiences.We can stop being defensive and start listening as long as we also feel heard.
My perspective is that this empathy has to start somewhere. If someone feels respected and heard, they are so much more likely to listen back. So let it start with me and you.
Introduction to My Poetry Blog
I used to write for fun. My mind ran wild with creative ideas as I scrambled to capture them just right on a piece of paper. Then I would move on from that idea onto another just-as-scrambled thought process. I loved flowery language that was barely too complicated to make sense, though at the time I had a clear idea of what was vaguely meant by writing it down.
I haven't been in that state of mind for a long time. I still have rapid sensations of [something deeply important] that I spend all my time trying to capture, save, and analyze before the next quick idea reaches me. As I develop, though, I move ever so slightly toward wanting to refine and edit around the core values leading me to a particular thought. That's precisely what I decided to do here--take old poems and edit them so they reveal the wisdom I have accrued since the last time I visited that idea. You will see poems with up to a decade of focused research building upon that first thought. Perhaps you will see some new ones too. We'll see how creative I get...
Just remember: I still have decades left to go.
I haven't been in that state of mind for a long time. I still have rapid sensations of [something deeply important] that I spend all my time trying to capture, save, and analyze before the next quick idea reaches me. As I develop, though, I move ever so slightly toward wanting to refine and edit around the core values leading me to a particular thought. That's precisely what I decided to do here--take old poems and edit them so they reveal the wisdom I have accrued since the last time I visited that idea. You will see poems with up to a decade of focused research building upon that first thought. Perhaps you will see some new ones too. We'll see how creative I get...
Just remember: I still have decades left to go.
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