The BeZine Blog

Posted in Jamie Dedes, Poems/Poetry

MERELY HUMAN

What is staying alive? To possess

A great hall inside a cell.

What is it to be human? by Waldo Williams, Poetry  – April 2008

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MERELY HUMAN

by

Jamie Dedes

·

finding strength and meaning as we go along,

though often caught in a swirl, dizzy spinning

of our mortality; our gender, time and place –

rash precipitation of preposterous events

and disgraceful cruelty, and the over-heated

flowing of crazy lives and loves, gritty and

grim, yet somehow grace-filled and dauntless –

like weeds pushing up pebbled concrete slabs,

bearing our path’s weight, reaching for the sun

·

Photo credit ~ Jess Norman, Public Domain Pictures.net.

 ·

Posted in Jamie Dedes, Poems/Poetry

I WOULD BE

·

However, nothing is just what it seems to be.

My objects dream and wear new costumes,

compelled to, it seems, by  all the words in my  hands

and the sea that bangs in my throat.

The Room of My Life by Anne Sexton in The Complete Poems of Anne Sexton

I WOULD BE

by

Jamie Dedes

I would be that ancient red rosebush

sitting in meditation beside the creek

that flows near the home-place and

a belt of vacant land, wide-awake wood

·

I would be a thorn-and-thistle-free me,

a cool, soothing fog, a silken river-stone,

or a whiff of magnolia traveling through

dark night on an aquamarine breeze

·

An old hunger rises in me to rest calm

beside the safe harbor of rambling rill,

days writ in gently cautious calligraphy,

mind as empty and conscious as a forest

·

But rosebush and wood endure winter

and the creek its dry-spell, river-stone’s

silken finish is born of the chaffing wave,

the magnolia was felled by the gardener

·

Photo credit ~ Christine Vincent, Public Domain Pictures.net.

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Posted in Essay, Guest Writer

THE TILTH OF THE EARTH

Tilth of the Skin

TILTH OF THE EARTH
·
by
·
Amy Nora Doyle  (SoulDipper)
·

Dirt.  Black, soft, moist, cool clumps of sensuous-feeling prairie dirt tumbled through my memory like tumbleweeds bouncing across an open field.

Jamie Dedes wrote about Dirt and conjured memories of pawing hands, wiggly fingers and big noses.  Visions of prairie farmers grabbing fistfuls of healthy humus, fingering it thoroughly, smelling it, working it through rubbed palms, and even tasting it, came back to me with the clarity of a close-up video.

Why did they do this routine?  As a child, I had watched them, riveted and serious, working handfuls of soil as if preparing for surgery.  The world stopped.  Their full attention was on the response of the soil to its handling.  What were those farmers doing?

Nagged by ignorance, I decided to visit an octagenarian who farmed most of her adult life in Manitoba.  Rose is the 88 year old mother of a departed friend.

Driving to Rose’s house, Jamie Dedes was on my mind.  She started this.  She published a post, “Ultimately Dirt”, on her blog titled Into the Bardo.  If you peek at the link, you’ll see there’s a book and a film about the soil of this planet.

Bill Logan wrote “Dirt: The Ecstatic Skin of the Earth”.  He wrote it while living in New York City.  Jamie just happens to come from Brooklyn.  What irony that two urban New Yorkers wake up this prairie person to the phenomenal aliveness of dirt.  It is precious.  We all know we need it to grow anything worth eating, but there’s more to it.  It’s teeming with life.  It’s a full, living organism.  It is home to microscopic life that creates the healthy properties we need in our soil.

I’ve been taking dirt for granted.  I hadn’t thought about how many layers and years of leaves, grasses, manure, and other flora it takes to create the soil that I kicked away and swept off my walkway with impunity.   I hadn’t fully considered the effect of the world’s greed on soil.

When I arrived at Rose’s home, she was sitting outside enjoying her small garden.

Tilth of the Soil

“Rose, this may seem like a dumb question, but I want to ask you about farmers.  When they grabbed a handful of dirt and started doing all those machinations, what were they doing?”

“You mean when they’d squeeze it in their hands?”  I nodded.  “And when they’d rub it between their fingers…sometimes smell it?”

“Yes! That’s what I remember.  Some even tasted it.  I saw some put their tongues on it.  Why?”

“Testing it.” Rose said.

“For what?”

Rose looked at me as though I was a bit simple. “To see if it was okay.”

“Rose, I know they were testing it.  Okay for what?”

“Well, to see if it was ready for planting.”  Her tone indicated that anyone would know this fact.  Obviously this was like asking her to describe looking through blue eyes.

“Okay.  What were they looking for in the soil to know it was ready for planting?”

“Let’s see…moisture.  It shouldn’t be too dry.  If it was, they prayed for a bit of rain.  If it was too wet, they prayed for hot, sunny days.”  She grinned as she paused.  “What else?  It shouldn’t be too sandy.”

“If it was, what would they do about it?”

“Add some good manure probably.”  More silence.  “The soil had to have a good balance of acid and alkaline.   Willows love alkaline.  Where willows grow, you know the soil is too alkaline.  Clay has a lot of alkaline.  Wheat likes a bit of acid.”  She began to rhyme off which crops preferred acid and which prefer alkaline.

“So that tiny gesture told them all they needed to know about planting.  When to plant, what to plant…it even told them if they had to roll out the manure wagons.”  Rose nodded as she listened.

Suddenly she threw up her arms, “Tilth!”

“What?”

“Tilth of the soil.  That’s the word!  They test the tilth of the soil*!”

“Spell that, Rose.  I’ve never heard the word.”

The well-being of our nation depends upon the tilth of the soil. 

No… the well-being of the world depends upon it.

The tilth of our skin has been too much of a big deal – 

Now it’s time to concentrate on the tilth of our planet’s skin.

Tilth of the Earth

* From Wikipedia:

Tilth can refer to two things:

Tillage and a measure of the health of soil.

Good tilth is a term referring to soil that has the proper structure and nutrients to grow healthy crops. Soil in good tilth is loamy, nutrient-rich soil that can also be said to be friable because optimal soil has a mixture of sand, clay and organic matter that prevents severe compaction.

Photo credits ~ Google.ca/search

Posted in Buddhism

BUDDHIST GLOBAL RELIEF: Walk of Compassion

Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi

Found of Buddhist Global Relief

The gift of food is the gift of life. ~ The Buddha

Buddhist Global Relief 2nd Annual Walk to Feed the Hungry

3.5 mile walk • Saturday, September 10, 2011
9:30 a.m. Check-in • 10:00 a.m. Walk • Rain or Shine!
Riverside Park, W. 83rd St. & Riverside Dr., New York, NY
(Please register by September 1st)

-BHANTE BUDDHARAKKHITA: WALK LEADER
-GUEST SPEAKER: MICHAEL ROEHM, BGR Adviser
-FREE VEGETARIAN PICNIC LUNCH AFTER THE EVENT!

Today we can send men into space, but here on earth chronic hunger and malnutrition still cast their shadows over the heads of far too many people, claiming ten million lives a year, more than half of them children. Though we may never know or see these folks, we should recognize that they are human beings just like ourselves, worthy of our deepest concern. Together we can make a difference, and it doesn’t take much to help them live in dignity and hope! All proceeds from the walk will go to support BGR’s global hunger relief programs. MORE

Photo credit ~ Bhikku Bodhi, American Buddhist monk, taken in 2003 by Ken and Visakha Kawasaki licensed under the Creative Commons Attritution-Share Alike 3.0 via Wikipedia.

Posted in Uncategorized

IN METTA FOR THE 76 AND THEIR FAMILIES

Everyone engaged by a reporter seems to know that life will never be the same in a country where people don’t lock their doors and police are routinely unarmed. They welcome statements from their political leaders that Norway must not succumb to fear and must maintain its open societyBut many also sense that the attacks that killed 76 last Friday have changed everything. MORE [TIME]

IN SYMPATHY WITH NORWAY

AND ITS PAIN

*

IN SOLIDARITY WITH THE

FAMILIES OF THOSE WHO DIED OR WERE INJURED

*

WITH SADNESS FOR 

THOSE WHO LOST THEIR LIVES

AND FOR THE ONE

WHOSE INSANITY BIRTHED THIS TRAGEDY

Photograph from Norway, The Official Site in the United States

Posted in Essay, Jamie Dedes

DISABLED, NOT UNABLE: No Arms, No Legs, No Worries

Video posted to YouTube by .

When the going gets tough, the tough get going. Joseph P. Kennedy Sr., former U.S. Ambassador to the U.K. and father of John F. and Robert F., and Edward.

Motivation gets you through the day, but inspiration last a lifetime. Nick Vuicic, inspirational speaker

I’m sure there are many, many people who are following our limbless-but-nimble Nick, especially in Australia (his homeland) and the United States, where he is now living in California. He’s a great inspiration. He helps put things in perspective. In the light of his challenges, the vast majority of us have nothing to complain about. He makes it darn difficult to make excuses. More than that, he demonstrates that disability is not inability. He follows a work schedule that would exhausted lesser folk.

Attitude Is altitude. Nick Vujicic

If I wanted anyone to get – really get –  one of the underlying messages here, it would be employers. At one time, about a hundred years ago now, I was responsible for hiring and/or hiring recommendations for a retail company. I often advocated – usually unsuccessfully – for people who were bright, talented, and “disabled.” The latter is a term we use lightly and take literally. It can be deceptive.

As you can see from Nick’s video and his life, people who are disabled are not necessarily unable. Often people have disabilities, but are generally healthy. . . . just as healthy as most other working folks. They can be depended upon to maintain a normal work schedule. A high rate of absenteeism may be implicit in those situations that involve illness, but not everyone who is disabled is ill. Those who are not, those who are blind or deaf or have lost limbs or are otherwise disfigured, are not ill. They are all there mentally, have skills, ability, training and education, and have learned to work around their challenges. They have lower risk for workers’ comp because they tend to be more aware and more careful in how they maneuver in the workplace. Often, they need only minimal – if any – real accommodation. There’s no reason not to hire them. In the current economy, they are having a tougher-than-usual time competing for jobs, not because of real barriers to entry but because of perceived barriers harbored by employers. This is an appeal: please give them the same fair chance you’d give anyone else.

For more on Nick – Brave Heart: No Arms, No Legs, No Worries.

Posted in Essay, Guest Writer

A FULL LIFE …

Charlie Badenhop

It is my pleasure to introduce the wisdom of my friend, Charlie Badenhop, on our pages. Charlie is the internationally recognized creator of the human potential discipline of Seishindo . He is also a highly respected life-coach, practitioner of self-relations psychotherapy, and neuro-linguistic programming. He first published the essay below in his Seishindo newsletter, Pure Heart, Simple Mind. I find it brings a very important message to our readers. R.R.

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“A FULL LIFE IS NOT NECESSARILY

A LONG LIFE”

by

Charlie Badenhop

Posted here with permission. All rights reserved.

Are you living your life appreciating what you DO have, or are you lamenting what still seems to be missing?

Three years ago the eight year old daughter of a friend died in a freak accident at school. My friend was devastated and I could not think of any wise words that might console him.

As the weeks rolled by my friend slipped into an ever deeper sense of despair, and nothing anyone said seemed to lift his spirit.

After a few months time he went out-of-town on a business trip, and on the train ride back he engaged in conversation with the woman sitting next to him. The woman sat there and nodded her head often as my friend talked about the death of his daughter. He reported to me that he had the sense of talking and talking and talking, until he finally felt like he had nothing more to say.

As my friend came to a natural state of rest, the woman nodded her head one more time as she took a deep breath, and then said the following, “I can very much feel your pain, and I understand the loss of your child must be devastating.”

“At the same time,” she said, “I wonder if your pain would not be lessened if you celebrated the life your daughter did have.”

“You told me about your daughter’s sense of awe the first time you took her to the ocean, and how you carried her in your arms as you waded out into the water.”

“You also spoke about the many times she sat on your lap and told you about the magical adventures she had during the course of her day.”

“Perhaps the sweetest story you shared was how you told your daughter every night how much you loved her as you tucked her into bed.”

“I’m wondering,” the woman said, “What is it that leads you to believe you and your daughter did not live a full and glorious life together?”

“Is it because she died at eight years old and not at eighty? Certainly it would seem that the quality of one’s life is not tied to the length of one’s life.”

“I would like to gently suggest that you and your daughter did live a full and complete life together. She just didn’t live as long as you had hoped for and expected.”

As the train neared the station the woman continued speaking. “I am seventy-two years old, and in looking back on my life I don’t feel I have shared with anyone, the depth of experience and love you and your daughter had together.”

“On one hand this makes me deeply sad. On the other hand, it wakes me up to the fact that my life is not yet finished. I can begin today to live the life I truly desire.”

“This is the realization that your experience has helped me to understand, and for this wonderful gift I thank you deeply.”

The woman smiled as she stood up, preparing to exit the train. “None of us know how long we have to live. No one has control over the length of their life.”

“The quality of our life on the other hand, is something you can ensure on a daily basis. An emotionally fulfilling life is a complete life, regardless of how many years you live. A life without love seems to take forever to end.”

“We’ll do well to appreciate what we do have, rather than lamenting about what we don’t.”

To the readers of this [blog post], I gently suggest you consider how you want to live your life, in order to ensure that your time on earth is fulfilling and complete.

Posted in Jamie Dedes, Poems/Poetry

FROM THE BEGINNING

Family photo subject to copyright.

·

Every year without knowing it I have passed the day

When the last fires will wave to me

And the silence will set out

For the Anniversary of My Death, W.S. MerwinThe Second Four Books of Poems

FROM THE BEGINNING

by

Jamie Dedes

It was yesterday

that I retrieved my soul at last

moved by the placid persuasion of a psalm

reminding me of my rootedness

in the archives of heaven

 ·

In earlier times

life lay ahead, a rhythm of reciting tones

a paced chant before all that somber news

and facing facts and quiet homely work

of peacemaking for your sake

 ·

But this morning

I awoke a fading mendicant nun

reading my own rich requiem Mass

celebrating my heart’s trove

and your constant love

 ·

A few more breaths

and I’m a whisper in your ear

an old story of someone who birthed you

now melting into the great Forever

leaving us only a hallowed cord

 ·

From the beginning, Son

your spirit was to us a joy dancing

a perfect poem finely etched in old gold

holding fast to beauty and grace

faithful to your own gentle spirit

 ·

Listen to the hollows in the wind.

Listen, Son –

how love encircles and

echoes from the small Beginning  ….

into the great Forever

Posted in Guest Writer, Poems/Poetry

omg rejection letter

Copyright 2011, Charles Martin

Charles Martin blogs at Read Between the Minds. We are pleased to present another of his fine poems on Into the Bardo. J.D.

·

omg rejection letter

by

Charles Martin

·

we regret

to inform you

that your application

for sainthood

has been

denied

please note

this is

no reflection

upon what you’ve been

saying

but

praying for

the poor

the homeless

peace

et cetera

is not

the same as

doing

something

for those individuals

or

areas of concern

your wishful prayers

are indeed

characteristic of

an

admirable personality

and

we appreciate

your frequent

and

considerable

soliloquies with us

but

we’re

rather filled up

with folks

with

good

intentions


Posted in Jamie Dedes, Music, Poems/Poetry

BACH FOR BUDDHA

BACH FOR BUDDHA

by

Jamie Dedes

Sunday morning peace

Icy floors, my begging bowl

and Bach for Buddha

If you click on the video twice, you’ll link through to YouTube to watch it. We apologize for the inconvenienc. Thank you!

Video posted to YouTube by .

Photo credit ~ courtesy of The Buddha Gallery, unusual vintage Chinese monk with offering bowl.

Sarabande ~ began as a dance in triple metre in the 14th century in Central America and evolved in 16th century Europe into a slower musical form. J.S. Bach’s Six Suites for Unaccompanied Cello are perhaps the most recognized solos written for cello and remain among Bach’s most popular works.

Posted in Jamie Dedes, Poems/Poetry

ON SUCH DAYS

Nobody knows who I am or what I do. Not even I.

Don Juan Matus in Journey to Ixtlan by Carlos Castaneda

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If you are viewing this poem on the home page, you will have to click on the post title for the poem to lay out properly. Thank you!

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ON SUCH DAYS

by

Jamie Dedes

·

On such days we come crashing at the rough edges

of narrow channels and wide open oceans till we are

caught between moon-sight and sun-gold distortions,

fickle changelings of dark and light and shadows

pregnant with dream demons and wicked illusions

·

How successfully we manage to precipitate chaos in the

hoary hibernation of our soul’s winter, denying the warmth

of our own voice and the god-awful finiti of our bodies,

So here we are, sleep-walking our rocky, rebel road and

serving our spiny poetry like Don Juan his peyote buttons

·

Posted in Film/Documentaries/Reviews

ULTIMATELY DIRT

DIRT, THE ECSTATIC SKIN OF THE EARTH , THE BOOK

The front The Cathedral of St John the Divine  in New York. After services, writer Bill Logan stepped out the front door with a young woman he was trying to impress.  The Very Reverand James Morton greeted them and asked Bill what  he would like to write about.  Bill said “Well… about Dirt”, On the spot the prelate offered him a room in which to write such a book.  Which he did… (as well as wed the earthy young woman who came to services with him.) When published the book was graced by loud praise.   One reviewer wrote,  “A gleeful, poetic book…. Dirt is kind of a prayer.”   And Bill Logan went on to marry the young woman … MORE

Video posted to YouTube by lifechangingdocos.

Four billion years of evolution have created the dirt that recycles our water, gives us food, provides us shelter, and that can be used as a source of medicine, beauty and culture. However, people have become greedy and careless, endangering this vital living resource with destructive methods of agriculture, mining practices, and urban development. The Movie uncovers the surprising ways we can repair our relationship with dirt and create new possibilities for all life on earth. You may never look at the ground beneath your feet quite the same. MORE

Video posted to YouTube by getdirty2009.

Our film adapted the spirit of the book:  we filmed with pilgrims going to The Sanctuario de Chimayo to feel the hand of God by touching dirt, and taking some home with them.

Our film suggests that our connection to dirt and the natural world goes beyond stewardship to interconnectivity and a deep spiritual connection.  As Okenagan writer, artist and teacher Jeannette Armstrong puts it: “ I am that river, I am that mountain, I am that dirt. I could pick a hand of dirt and that’s, that’s what my grandmother used to say.  She, she’d pick up a hand of dirt and she’d say, “this is my flesh.” MORE

DIRT! THE MOVIE, DVD

Directed by Gene Rosow and Bill Benenson, Dirt! tells it’s environmental call-to-action tale with interviews, stirring cinematography, and googly-eyed or storybook animation (images of fertile fields swaying with plants, giddy spade-holding babies, cracked deserts, third-world slums, and giggly, poo-shaped and -colored cartoon blobs posing as dirt particles; the latter are most disturbing when wielding knives to kill other dirt particles or lobbying with gavel and pickets to vote humans off the planet). Ultimately Dirt! does what a good environmental documentary should: enlighten, galvanize, and entertain audiences, and in this case, make them want to get dirty. Chrisine Champ, Seattle PI.com, review MORE

Posted in Guest Writer, Poems/Poetry

don’t let the door . . .

copyright cwmartin 2011

When I stared what was to become my flag-ship blog,  Musing by Moonlighttwo-and-a-half years ago, the first poet-blogger I discovered was Charles Martin. I was so enamoured of his work that I not only started following him regularly, but his was the first poetry site I added to my blogroll.

This particular piece is perhaps my favorite of all Charles’. Enjoy! We plan another post from Charles on Tuesday, July 12, but you can always visit him – and I recommend that you do – at his site, Read Between the Minds. Both the photograph and the poem were created by Charles. J.D.

·

don’t let the door ….

by

Charles Martin

·

after you’ve finished
ranting and raving
about how unfair
life has treated you
and
you’ve
told the last person
who will listen
all your misfortunes
perhaps
on your way out
you could take
a moment
to explain
to the child
in north korea
why they’re
always hungry
and to the ones
in angola
what happened
to their mothers
and fathers
you could even
take a second
out of your miserable day
to tell
the little hmong child
why they’re surrounded
by razor wire
of course
that is
if you
have
time


Posted in Essay, Guest Writer

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

My friend and Christian poet and writer, Donna Swanson, writes here about creativity, the  fleeting quality of success, and the things that really matter, like family and gratitude. No matter your definition of God (or not) or whatever your belief system is (or is not), the essence of the message here is core wisdom.  Enjoy! … and thanks to Donna for sharing. J.D.

·

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

by

DONNA SWANSON
·
There have always been creators. To us creating is a display of God’s image in the world. Creating is an ache in our spirit; a compulsive reaching out to those who share life with us. We can no more not create than we can not breathe. Though there is a longing for our creations to be affirmed and applauded – anyone who denies that is lying to you – there is a deeper hunger to do the act of creating. The feel of a brush on canvas; the weight of a pen in the hand; a particular word that completes a poetic phrase: these are to our souls as oxygen is to our lungs. Though no one responds, still we must offer. Perhaps the next painting will invoke a response; the next book, the next poem, the next song…
·
And success? Now, as I look back over my life, I have a much different perspective than I did in my youth. I see those things I created, and they are good. I know they have blessed the few people they have touched. And now I can put them to rest where they belong; in God’s hands. If there comes a time when He wants them widely known, they will be. If not, they were infinitely satisfying in their creation.
·
Again, as I look back over my life, I see the successes that mean so much more than any amount of fame could supply. I asked God to give me acclaim and the praise of my peers. He gave me good children who rise up and call me blessed. I asked God to make me financially successful. He gave me a beautiful home set amidst towering pines given by those I loved. I asked God to make my name known. He gave me a husband who knows me and loves me just as I am.
·
Our family has never been abundantly wealthy, but we have never gone without food or clothes or a warm fire. We did not have expensive indulgences or travel to exotic places, but we’ve had those small blessings that mean most because they were a surprise or a loving gift.
·
Success is relative. Success is fleeting. Success is a carrot leading a donkey down many a rocky road. Success is okay if it happens, okay if it doesn’t. It’s the road one takes to get to the destination that builds the soul. The road has been worth it.
·

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Connect with the multi-talented Donna at the links below:
Posted in Jamie Dedes, Music

PEARLS BEFORE COMMUTERS

Video posted to YouTube by  .

·

What is this life if,  full of care,

We have not time to stand and stare. –

·

No time to stand beneath the boughs,

And stare as long as sheep and cows:

·

No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

·

No time to see in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

·

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance

And watch her feet, how they can dance:

·

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began?

·

A poor life this if,  full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

Leisure by W.H.Davies (1871 – 1940), Welsh poet and writer

·

In 2007 the Washington Post posed the question: “Can one of the nation’s great musicians cut through the fog of a Washington, D.C. rush hour? Thus it came to pass that – masquerading as a street musician – the world renown violin virtuoso, chamber musician, and orchestra leader, Joshua Bell,  played his Gibson ex Huberman  (1713, Antonio Stradivari) using a bow made in the eighteenth century by Francois Tourte for the pleasure of DC Metro commuters. He treated them to the sweet strains Chaconne (Bach‘s Partita No.2), AveMaria (Schubert), Estrellita (Ponce), and closed with a Bach gavotte.

Bell concerts are packed to capacity and tickets can run to three figures. During the forty-three minutes he played in the D.C. metro, 1,097 people passed him by and he collected $32.17. Twenty of those dollars were donated by the only commuter to recognize him. Only four-or-five people actually stopped to listen.

The Washington Post’s Gene Weingarten has written the complete sad story of folks too busy and/or unconscious to take note (pun intended) HERE.

Joshua Bell, (b.1960)

Violinist, Classical Musician

If you happen to have time for some music, check out Bell playing Chaconne. Go ahead! I dare you … Make your day …

Video posted to YouTube by .

Photo credit ~ Violinist Joshua Bell following a performance at the San Francisco Symphony in California U.S. courtesy of Alexduff  under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license via Wikipedia.

Posted in Jamie Dedes, Poems/Poetry

POETS AND SAINTS

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity. Edgar Allen Poe (1809 – 1849), American writer and poet

·

POETS AND SAINTS

by

Jamie Dedes

·

It speaks to them like an old-growth forest

whispering into wise and willing ears.

Or, perhaps it’s cellular memory, ancestors

not silenced by death at all but having their

say along some thread of DNA by which

chaos becomes story becomes chaos again.

Or might it  be some rarely seen insanity.

Check the DSM*, where you’ll find it laid out

grossly defined and oddly diminishing.

No naming stops its quiet ineffable flow, slow

and cool in a fast and overheated world.

·

*DSM Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders

Photo credit ~ Białowieski Park Narodowy in Belarus in Poland courtesy of Ralf Lotys under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported. This is one of the last largely intact primeval forests in Central Europe.

·


Posted in Essay, Jamie Dedes

THE EVOLUTION

 

When we marched,
Slithered
Through slimy mud past riot-shielded cops in Alexander
(This is the ghetto.)
While children peered wild-eyed from dark windows,
For some of us these were re-runs of earlier apartheid-burdened days.
But, then, it was defiant resolution that drove our hearts and braced our feet.
Now, sadness at betrayal sat sadly on our hearts.
Our shouted slogans hung heavy over us in grimy air.
We winced at familiar oft-repeated lies
Oft-repeated lies.

Dennis BrutusSouth African Poet/Activist (1924 – 2009), in Leafdrift

·

THE EVOLUTION SHALL BE BLOGGED

by

Jamie Dedes

There are people for whom poetry exists almost exclusively as an aid to social change, to political discourse– not as some sort of didacticism – but as a discussion, a wake up call, a way of approaching some truth, finding some meaning, encouraging resolution. I’m not one of them. I am as likely to write about the beautiful flowers that have just popped on my orchid – at last – or something my mom said fifty years ago as I am to write a poem on a social issue. But it does happen and quite often:  a horrific war photo, a news report of an injustice, a homeless person outside the grocery, a friend in pain that I can trace to some social issues, and the words start to flow. There’s the urge to respond, to do something – the urge to activism.

As I make my way around the blogosphere, I delight to see how many poets blog for causes – “worthy” causes as my mom would say – and I know that “worthy” is in the eye of the reader. War is big. For those poet-bloggers who are pacifists, this medium offers one means of passive resistance. Perhaps passivism is the strongest form of resistance and poetry the conscience of the collective soul.

In the 70s, the American author, poet, and musician, Gil Scott Heron, wrote The Revolution Shall Not Be Televised (video below). It comes to mind now. For those who remember, this might seem odd. It’s a Nixon-era piece, but we’re still struggling with the trivialities Heron is so beautifully strident about. And the revolution couldn’t be televised. It would be too big for one thing. Though Heron was addressing issues for blacks, I would submit that while we have different histories, we’re all struggling to stay afloat on the same broken-down raft.

In Dennis Brutus’ poem above, he points to the world we now live in. Having survived Robben Island with Nelson Mandella, he was freed only to find that while apartheid ended in South Africa it had become world-pervasive. The issue now he discovered was no longer race but economics: the few haves vs. the masses of  have-nots. And those who have just a bit – enough to feel safe and perhaps a bit smug – are just a hairbreadth away from have-not.

I can’t help but think that the revolution so many of us seek is rooted in transforming values. Hence, it is more evolutionary than revolutionary. As such, perhaps it is too gradual and pervasive to be televised. Perhaps it is evident in our blogosphere and the heart-born prose and poems of simple folk like you and me with nary a pundit or politician among us. Perhaps it’s a bottom-up thing, more likely to be blogged than broadcast, rising from homespun poetry – outsider literary art – sometimes rudimentary and awkward, but always quiet and true and slow like a secret whispered from one person to the next. It is perhaps something stewing even as we write, read, and encourage one another. Perhaps there is some bone and muscle in what we do. Individually we have miniscule “audiences.” Collectively we speak to enormous and geographically diverse populations.

I think I hear army boots a-marching, marching across networks everywhere. Or perhaps poetic fancy has caught my spirit today and all is dream …I hope not. Blog on …

So let some impact from my words echo resonance 
lend impulse to the bright looming dawn

Dennis Brutus

Video posted to YouTube by .

Illustration: Face the Monster  Frits Ahlefeldt, Public Domain Pictures.net.


Posted in Jamie Dedes, Poems/Poetry

MIND CHATTERED

Oh, the mind is eely, slipping

out of its puzzle boxes,

loving its own wit . . . 

Mind/Body by Gregory DjanikianPoetry Magazine, April 2000

·

MIND CHATTERED

by

Jamie Dedes

·

mind in chatter mode will do you in

like a car without a driver,

a good tool gone rogue

it will numb you with its burden of

old stories and wishing wells

could have beens, should have beens

crowd pleasers and ego teasers

·

it will desecrate your sacred space

with the rotting carcass of old resentments

tired rivalries, rigid renunciations

it will domesticate your dreamscape with

the dreck of times gone by and

tedious, trivial, trumpery thinking

·

it will leech and parch your soul garden

which would otherwise shout vivid

with rainbow flowers and the scents

of night-blooming jasmine, fresh morning dew

and a rose quartz blush of air current

for traveling to spring valleys, bright stars

·

with mind in chat mode trapped in earthy ken

your most wonderous inner worlds go sadly

unimagined and unexplored and you –

you, fully chattered, shattered, scattered

will never even know

·

Illustration ~  Frits Ahlefeldt, Public Domain Pictures.net.