In the eyes of my children

Picasso Van Gogh

standing in slush.

busy street corner.

closed café.

heavy traffic.

a tense trench coat.

a fist full of roses.

tight fingers.

drops of red on

dirty white snow.

giving beauty;

getting pain.

ignored.

people pushing past

going somewhere/nowhere.

Okay, I’m experimenting.  Thinking of William Carlos Williams.  Using images and minimalism.  Accenting end-stops with periods.  Thinking of Hart Crane and his “Thomas A. Ediford” line.  Misusing grammar to say something,--not new--but else.  Else what?  Just else.  The poet--artist on a snowy, slushy street corner like a little match girl—giving roses that no one takes—desperation squeezing his hand on the thorns—“giving beauty, getting pain”  We are not here to sell.  We are not here to make a buck.  We are here to love.  We are here to shed light and beauty.  We are here to create wonders and miracles.  This is the essence of my subversive thoughts: the love of money is not love at all.  It is animal drive.  But I say, we are gods.  We must shed the animal.  Gibran said: “work is love made manifest.”  But we have said, “work is money and we are beasts, and we place a market value on our work.”  We have sold ourselves for cheep.  I will offer roses till I bleed--and do not think that because I give them freely that they are worthless.  I am on the road to Shangri-la.  Where is Shangri-la?  It is in the heart.  It is like a seed in the heart.  I am the garden of Shangri-la.  And when I die the seed will grow and in that place the roses will bloom.  The poets and artists will pick them and stand on cold street corners saying, here, take them, they are free come and take the roses of Shangri-la

This Year's St. Nicholas Boxes

Being pressed for time, I couldn't paint my St. Nicholas box design this year.  Instead I drew and scanned it, then put it into the Windows Paint Program to color them and then did the rest as a word document and printed them at Kinko's. I was up late cutting them and gluing them (with Peter's help) I couldn't get gifts or bake the shortbread cookies that I put in the boxes--just that sort of year; but I did keep the tradition again this year--however minimal-- and passed them out to my coworkers on time.  I sure miss the years when my kids were little and all excited. They would get so jazzed.  So Elizabeth, if you are tuning in here, there's one for you when you come home for Christmas.

A Girl Named Ginny

It is the first Sunday of Advent and I'm not very functional and can't get all the work done to make this work.  I need candles for an Advent wreath and decorations and a thousand little details to take care of.  I've got a Sisyphean paper to do that I may not be able to finish.  I may kiss my 4.0 goodbye.  But I'm gonna' try. 

Most things about Christianity turn my stomach these days and that is largely due to so may denominations, mostly Protestant evangelicals, who can't seem to see how much they have confused their religion with political Conservative and would rather do law and conformity than celebrate love, freedom and dignity for all human beings.  It is a sad day when so many Christians have learned how to hate in the name of love; who blame the poor for being poor, calling them lazy and parasitical.  But, as the Bible says, the Lord hears the cries of the poor.

True religion is about compassion.  I did have time to write a song for this first week of Advent.  It is more of a Christmas song than an Advent song, but it dwells on the theme of compassion.  My piano, like me, is old and out of tune, but I'm so glad to have it.  The song takes place back in the days of abolition and well, nuff said.

I Have Friends

This post is for Melanie and all my friends over seas.  I had just a taste of adventure when I left for Abu Dhabi and lived there for nearly three years.  I met a lot of people who had been, and were going lots of places.  I miss them all and the adventures I had.  I have a lot of obligations now, and am trying to get a few more years built up for my retirement pay and benefits, (providing the republicans in the state of Michigan don't screw up all my years of efforts to establish what I've got).  But I hope that I might yet be able to go on a few more adventures before I shuffle off this mortal coil.  ;)

Four Ladies

I know a lady who's all dressed in green
With lavender trim and her face so serene.
I know a lady who's all dressed in gold
Sun-kissed,  red-headed, and happy, I'm told.
I know a lady who's all dressed in red
With apples and peaches on top of her head.
I know a lady who's all dressed in white
I need her to guide me through my longest night.

Four lovely ladies, who dance through the years.
they share all my laughter, my joys and my tears.
One brings new life.
One brings the sun.
One brings brings her bounty
One brings me peace, when I'm old and done.

Lakota

Several hundred dust devils, like fingers, were tracing their way across the drought-dead soil.  I tried to chase them, but I could never catch them.  Then I saw human shapes in those dust devils, formed out of bone-dry soil and air, dancing playfully.

"Who are you people?"

They ignored me.

"What are you people?" I whispered to myself this time.

I was thirsty.  Dust was sticking to my sweat.  I must have been delusional.  I followed.  God hep me, I followed.  For good or ill, I followed.

Visit with Doug and Point Pelee

Having finished summer school and with about two weeks to go before heading back to work, and not having had much of a vacation, I took a couple of days to get out and do something with what time I have.  I've got tons of work to do on this old house and all kinds of things I need to tend to.  BUT...I also have to attend to my need for some R & R.  So I decided to go visit a friend of mine from Abu Dhabi Days.  His name is Doug and he lives in Windsor with his sister, Pat.  So I took Peter with me and spent the day with Doug, who finally was able to return my long lost spatula that had vanished when I lived in Abu Dhabi.  It's been quite a quest to return the sacred spatula to the owner who's name is clearly written on the handle.  I will now associate it with Doug every time I grill hamburgers in honer of those marvelous cook outs he used ot host at the old villa.

I was worried that Peter would be bored, but he loved Doug's humor.  He chuckles even now at Doug's frequent use of "Shud up!" with his incredulous tone.  He also loved to hear the stories of people and  the things we had done during my time there.  Peter was just starting high school when I left to work in Abu Dhabi.  I had planned to be gone for just six months, but it turned out to be three years.  That was very painful for both Peter and me.  Don't get me wrong, I loved teaching the Arabs, I loved going on adventures, and I loved all the different cultures--I even loved the city of Abu Dhabi; but I worried, quite a bit, about Peter.  My daughter was in college and is great with Skype or gmail.  She'd check in all the time.  Peter needed my physical presence and that was the hardest thing for both of us.  He told me that listening me talk to Doug gave him a bigger picture of what life must have been like for me over there.

Doug took us to Amherstberg, to Fort Maldan.  It was an historical fort built by the British during the war of 1812.  The docents there were dress in clothing from that period and first greeted us in French.   We ambled about the fort and then stopped to watch a muzzle loading and firing demonstration, took our picture and then split for some of that wonderful Horton's coffee.  It seemed like a Tim Horton's coffee shop there is on just about every street corner. 

The following day we said goodbye to Doug and Pat and as I was leaving I missed the exit to the Ambassador Bridge and found myself back in Amhersburg again and said, "What the heck, let's just explore."  We ended up going to a wonderful place called Point Pelee.  It is a Canadian national park.  An isthmus that runs out into Lake Erie.  It looks to me, as I said in the video, like a wasp stinger. (Oh dang, I just realized that I misspelled "Lake Erie" on my map.  Isn't that eerie?  

What a beautiful place!  Butterflies were everywhere.  It was really hard to catch them on video, but I got a few.  I mention this because Pat told me that this is the place the Monarch Butterflies gather in mass before making their annual journey to Mexico.  I was also surprised to see cactus--I'm thinking they call these prickly pears, but I'm not sure.  according to the signs posted on the pathways, the isthmus is being restored to savanna.  All kinds of plants had been put there, along with many that I am familiar with. 



Peter and I walked all the way down to the point.  Most of the way we saw very few people.  The beach was empty and very remote, but when we got to the very tip, we saw a lot of people who took the shuttle who were now out wading in the water and taking pictures. It was a lovely place.  I have to say I enjoyed the hike even more.  We also went to the wetlands area while we were there.  It was a bit of a tourist kind of place, but I appreciated the effort to educate the public about the wetlands and I'm glad that places like this are protected.  Mostly I was just grateful for perfect weather, and time with Peter.