Poetry

Looking closely at a citrus segment, the shape and design of the tiny sections of juice, the way they fit together, I was reminded of a butterfly wing. The word "poetry" came to my mind. I realized this is what poetry is to me: describing one thing in terms of another, finding or creating connections that make us look at a thing with new, widely opened eyes. The wing of an orange. Butterfly segments revealed beneath the peel.

Current mood: You're so Ugli

Quoth She

The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n

-Satan, Paradise Lost, Book 1, lines 254-255

Shield and Glory

Today's date on the one-a-day calender my wonderful friends made for me, and the day's Bible reading both contain this passage:

But You, O LORD, are a shield for me,
My glory and the One who lifts up my head. Ps. 3:3

It is true.

Clever!

Extra Bases

Yet another reason why the Boston Globe is the best newspaper in NE: they partnered with or sponsor boston.com which has a Red Sox blog, Extra Bases, with game updates whenever anything interesting happens. Known as "in-game blogging" (can I get an "Oooohh"?). Now I can do homework and keep up with the game at the same time without keeping the TV on. Aww yeah!

http://www.boston.com/sports/baseball/redsox/extras/extra_bases/

Tomato dilemma

After 4 months of watching, waiting and hoping, my mulch pile volunteer tomato plant has produced fruit. The question is, when the fruit matures and ripens, will I be able to eat it? Eating said fruit might feel like eating a member of the family. A member of the family which would taste good on a bagel with cream cheese and lox.....hmmm

Embarassed

Re: Groomer Has It.

Dog groomer reality show, you make me embarassed to be American. I don't need to watch you to know you would make me feel queasy. You lower the standard of television, even that of reality television, which is already as low as a collapsed California overpass or a rattlesnake in a wagon rut. You besmirch the Animal Planet network, which otherwise has some good shows, most notably Pet Star, the Growing up Cheetah, Black Bear, etc. series and Steve Irwin's impressive and edicational animal handling.

May your ratings plummet.

Sincerely,
Embarassed to be American

Thank You

...to the businessmen and women, heads of corporations, members of planning boards, developers, construction workers; in short, anyone responsible for the addition of the new Hannafords on Rt. 101 that is 4 miles closer to my house than any other grocery store, making a late night gummy candy trip far more feasible. Thank you from the bottom of my gummied tummy.

Current mood: Let There Be Dirt!

Current mood: Only one worm, 'twill soon be past...

Brown Penny

I whispered, 'I am too young,'
And then, 'I am old enough';
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
'Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.'
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.

O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.

-William Butler Yeats

Quoth She

I'll just tell them that I have nothing to say.
-Pedro

Pretty Eggs

My mom met a woman in the chiropractor's office was selling eggs. They come from free range chickens. I don't know if the chickens are different varieties or if they eat various things and that's why the eggs are colored. The camera doesn't show the colors very well- they are green, blue and light rose. Almost too pretty to eat. But not quite.

Reading List

Pyr-

Haaaaaa!

(thanks, Linds!)

Touch of Grey

Oh well a touch of grey, kinda suits you anyway,

That is all I had to say, but its all right.

I will get by, I will get by, I will get by, I will survive.

Beneath

I was looking out the window over a bowl of salad, not interested in food or anything really, just letting my eyes and mind go, when I noticed the shade of the sky. What color is that, I wondered, how could I describe it? Pearl, or mother of pearl, the softest pink, white really, with a soft blush stealing into it, perhaps the color of the first light, the first dawn, when the sky awoke and opened her eyes, before she tried on any other colors in her closet.

I wouldn't have noticed it except for the pure white of the snow, or I wouldn't have noticed the pure white of the snow but for the tint of the sky. Snow covered the trees, clinging to them, white spreading in a wide swath. When I looked out I saw a spilt color scheme or palette, half white, half blush. The darkness of tree bark extending into the woods, up to the point where the white hill rises beyond the swamp, in that light the darkness of the bark seemed mauve or a sweet shade of grey. Not dull grey, but a grey with hope in it. And beneath it all, like the bass line of a song, scarcely noticeable unless you listen for it, beneath the white was the deep green of pine needles and mountain laurel leaves.

Black and white flashed as chickadees stretched their wings, batting them like eyelashes. The fluttering of wings was the only movement in the scene before me until great sugar flakes began falling, drifting lazily as if they had nothing better to do then keep their appointment with the earth. Soft they fell. Slowly. They touched me. They insinuated themselves gently into the place that feeds on such things. The snowflakes, color and wings softened me like water on sandstone and filled me with... aahhh.

For a few minutes my mind dwelled on sweetness, wanting more. A cow's soft eyes. The picture in my mind of a girl sleeping on the ground at the fair, curled into the belly of her pet cow, it's head and neck drawn around her protectively. A spotted fawn that I saw last summer, tearing around the field during every thunder and lightning storm. My mind traveled to the ocean, to freedom and sun soaking my skin, though it remained there only a moment before the snow began to plummet, searing the sky which had turned into a flat ceiling, hard as concrete board, its sole purpose to pour frozen sadness on the world.

The sweetness was forgotten and the other came back. Computer crashes, stuck cars, too much noise, irritation. I pushed my chair back, stood and picked my salad bowl up. I frowned out at the white walled view. And paused.

Beneath it all, just visible if I didn't look at it directly, if I looked through slightly narrowed eyes and partly through my mind's eye; beneath lay a layer of deep green.

Leopard Man of Skye

Almost too disturbing to post, but I couldn't resist the fabulous bizarreness (Webster's online says bizarreness is a word. Huh).

You Fascinate Me

If someone said to me, "You fascinate me", I think it would be funny to reply, "Thank you. You vaccinate me too."