Yes, I am one of the people who say "an historic".
So I'm reading for my law history class and I came across this ironic case in US History. Not a legal case, just a case of fact.
The 13th amendment to our constitution ratified in 1865 reads:
1. Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.
2. Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation
In 1860 then senator Jefferson Davis (later head of the Confederate States of America) proposed the following 13th amendment which was NARROWLY kept from passing due to Lincoln's election and the secession of the southern states:
Neither Congress nor a territorial legislature...possess the power to annul or impair the constitutional right of any citizen of the United States to take his slave property into the common territories..."
...Funny how one election and 5 years made such a difference.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
I hate to be a quitter but...
For now this blog is officially on hiatus. Really, the hiatus began a few weeks ago when I just completely stopped posting, but I thought I'd make it official.
My plan was a post a day for a year. I spent a lot of time doing catchup for one reason or another which kinda defeated the purpose... but kinda didn't. But now I'm not even playing catchup, I've just more or less given up.
[For quick reference if you want to go back to old entries here are the topics by month: Feb- Black History Month, Mar- Women's History Month, Apr- Poetry Month, May- Mothers, June- Fathers]
I spend all kinds of time on the computer every day and still haven't made a legitimate post in weeks. So, as I said, I'm putting this blog on a hiatus. It might last a couple weeks or, I might just leave off where I started this year next year. So my next themed post might not occur until July 8th? 2011. Or I might just start from scratch at the new year. Or I may never make another post again, who knows.
I may or may not just post randomness throughout the year that doesn't go with the blog's theme, or maybe I'll start a new blog for that. Only time will tell.
Thanks to any of you who read this message who followed me in my short 5 months of blogdom, hope you enjoyed it and don't feel your time was wasted.
My plan was a post a day for a year. I spent a lot of time doing catchup for one reason or another which kinda defeated the purpose... but kinda didn't. But now I'm not even playing catchup, I've just more or less given up.
[For quick reference if you want to go back to old entries here are the topics by month: Feb- Black History Month, Mar- Women's History Month, Apr- Poetry Month, May- Mothers, June- Fathers]
I spend all kinds of time on the computer every day and still haven't made a legitimate post in weeks. So, as I said, I'm putting this blog on a hiatus. It might last a couple weeks or, I might just leave off where I started this year next year. So my next themed post might not occur until July 8th? 2011. Or I might just start from scratch at the new year. Or I may never make another post again, who knows.
I may or may not just post randomness throughout the year that doesn't go with the blog's theme, or maybe I'll start a new blog for that. Only time will tell.
Thanks to any of you who read this message who followed me in my short 5 months of blogdom, hope you enjoyed it and don't feel your time was wasted.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
A post of acknowledgement
So I've completely failed in my posting this month. This is just a post acknowledging my failure and the fact that I haven't made a post since the 7th. It's funny b/c this should be the month I have the most to say about. But I'm kind of loving my summer break and haven't bothered. I'll update legitimately soon enough, I may or may not make up posts for all the days I've missed because that's seriously getting to be a big number. Either way, yeah, thought I should post a litle thing here.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
More about the history of the US flag(s) than you probably ever wanted to know...
I was just looking for a picture of the first US flag, but i found this timeline which I found at least intriguing. The link with the timeline follows. Link
(For 7/6) Predating the president, we think our government gets nothing done...
The President of the US seems to be synonymous with government here -- funny since it's really supposed to be a balance between three powers. However under the initial governing document of the US, the Articles of Confederation, allowed for no executive branch of government and the US lacked one until the creation of the Consititution.
Referring to the country as the US at this time is a misnomer honestly because at the time they were a confederation of states. Each state held equal sway and veto power -- thus, very little got done in the nation's first six years. Maybe our government doesn't work today, but at least it's not at a perpetual standstill as it was prior to the US Constitution.
Something to think about...
Referring to the country as the US at this time is a misnomer honestly because at the time they were a confederation of states. Each state held equal sway and veto power -- thus, very little got done in the nation's first six years. Maybe our government doesn't work today, but at least it's not at a perpetual standstill as it was prior to the US Constitution.
Something to think about...
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Patriotism...
Patriotism is your conviction that this country is superior to all others because you were born in it.
- George Bernard Shaw
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Independence Day...
July 4th woohooooo. I worked today, how about you? Anyhoo.
July 4th is commonly known as Independence Day for the USA because it is more or less the date when the majority of the members of the Continental Congress signed the Declaration of Independence that called for an official break with the motherland of England . I wanted to make this about black independence because that's an interesting story, but as I'm writing this I can't resist throwing in a few lines from the Declaration instead.
Please note that while the wording of the declaration is beautiful, the account was really quite an exaggeration in most counts. People on the American continent basically wanted the protection of the mother country without having to pay the taxes. They were the least taxed of all British subjects and had cost the empire millions but were indignant enough to think they didn't owe any return. Whatever...
That whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security.
Happy Independence Day.
July 4th is commonly known as Independence Day for the USA because it is more or less the date when the majority of the members of the Continental Congress signed the Declaration of Independence that called for an official break with the motherland of England . I wanted to make this about black independence because that's an interesting story, but as I'm writing this I can't resist throwing in a few lines from the Declaration instead.
Please note that while the wording of the declaration is beautiful, the account was really quite an exaggeration in most counts. People on the American continent basically wanted the protection of the mother country without having to pay the taxes. They were the least taxed of all British subjects and had cost the empire millions but were indignant enough to think they didn't owe any return. Whatever...
That whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security.
Happy Independence Day.
(For 7/3) America's National Pastime...
First of all, "pastime" is a ridiculous word. Second of all, I went to watch Baseball yesterday which is established as the USA's national pastime/sport. The Padres won.
According to wikipedia baseball was beginning to become known as being the national pastimes by 1856, a title it was given in various newspaper articles in the New York area.
According to wikipedia baseball was beginning to become known as being the national pastimes by 1856, a title it was given in various newspaper articles in the New York area.
Lord I am lazy... (For 7/2)
I'm going to be straight up about this. If you follow this, or happen across it and look at it you'll see I've been slacking off A LOT lately and just doing a mass of posts all in one day. I'm getting kind of tired of this blog. My attachment to it has been somewhat fleeting and I'm exhausted and not on my computer as much lately since I'm staying with my sister. I wanna keep up with it because I feel like I should, I think I should complete it. So please forgive my mass posts...
In the 1800s French philosopher Alexis de Tocqueville visited the United States to observe the workings of democracy and the country itself. He wrote his observations in a book titled Democracy In America. The following quote is an excerpt from the text.
In the 1800s French philosopher Alexis de Tocqueville visited the United States to observe the workings of democracy and the country itself. He wrote his observations in a book titled Democracy In America. The following quote is an excerpt from the text.
As one digs deeper into the national character of the Americans, one sees that they have sought the value of everything in this world only in the answer to this single question:
how much money will it bring in?
- Alexis de Tocqueville
Thursday, July 1, 2010
I'm a US History Major what can I say...
So Independence Day is July 4th, so this month gets to be all patriotic and America. But I'm a US history major so I'll also have some not-so-nice juicy secrets to share as well. This is probably going to be my nerdiest month, just warning.
(For 6/30) Walk with kings nor lose the common touch
Rudyard Kipling was a bigot, a racist, and an imperialist...but I can't help loving this poem...
If
Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”;
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run—
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
If
Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”;
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run—
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
(For 6/29)...it almost seems insincere since I'm catching up so late...
There must always be a struggle between a father and son, while one aims at power
and the other at independence.
-Samuel Johnson
(For 6/28) "I'm gonna be like you, Dad"
Cats in the Cradle - Cat Stevens
My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talking before I knew it and as he grew
He said, "I’m gonna be like you, Dad,
You know I’m gonna be like you"
And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
When you comin home, dad, I don’t know when,
But we'll get together then, Son,
You know we'll have a good time then.
My son turned ten just the other day
He said "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on lets play
can you teach me to throw?" I said, "Not today,
I got a lot to do" He said "Thats okay"
And then he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said "I’m gonna be like him, yeah
You know I’m going to be like him"
And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin home, dad, I dont know when,
But we'll get together then, Son,
You know we'll have a good time then.
Well he came from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say,
"Son, I’m proud of you, can you sit for a while?"
He shook his head, and he said with a smile
"What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?"
And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin home, Son, I dont know when,
But we'll get together then, Dad,
You know we'll have a good time then.
I’ve long since retired, my son's moved away
I called him up just the other day........
I said "I'd like to see you if you don’t mind"
He said "I'd love to Dad, if I could find the time.
You see my new jobs a hassle, and the kids have the flu.
But It's sure nice talking to you, Dad,
It's been sure nice talking to you........"
And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He'd grown up just like me,
My boy was just like me..............
And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin home, Son, I dont know when,
But we'll get together then, Dad
We're gonna have a good time then.
My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talking before I knew it and as he grew
He said, "I’m gonna be like you, Dad,
You know I’m gonna be like you"
And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
When you comin home, dad, I don’t know when,
But we'll get together then, Son,
You know we'll have a good time then.
My son turned ten just the other day
He said "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on lets play
can you teach me to throw?" I said, "Not today,
I got a lot to do" He said "Thats okay"
And then he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said "I’m gonna be like him, yeah
You know I’m going to be like him"
And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin home, dad, I dont know when,
But we'll get together then, Son,
You know we'll have a good time then.
Well he came from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say,
"Son, I’m proud of you, can you sit for a while?"
He shook his head, and he said with a smile
"What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?"
And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin home, Son, I dont know when,
But we'll get together then, Dad,
You know we'll have a good time then.
I’ve long since retired, my son's moved away
I called him up just the other day........
I said "I'd like to see you if you don’t mind"
He said "I'd love to Dad, if I could find the time.
You see my new jobs a hassle, and the kids have the flu.
But It's sure nice talking to you, Dad,
It's been sure nice talking to you........"
And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He'd grown up just like me,
My boy was just like me..............
And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin home, Son, I dont know when,
But we'll get together then, Dad
We're gonna have a good time then.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Anything Like Me
I got Brad Paisley's American Saturday Night album a couple months back and fell in love. Particularly with this song... (I know, this is my second Brad Paisley song this month but oh welll)
Anything Like Me
by Brad Paisley
I remember sayin I dont care either way
Just as long as he or she is healthy Im ok
Then the doctor pointed to the corner of the screen
And said Ya see that thing right there well ya know what that means
And I started wondering who he was going to be
And I thought heaven help us if hes anything like me
Hell probably climb a tree to tall and ride hes bike to fast
End up every summer wearin something in a cast
Hes gonna throw a ball and break some glass in a window down the street
Hes gonna get in trouble oh hes gonna get in fights
Im gonna lose my temper and some sleep
It safe to say that im gonna get my pay back if hes anything like me
I can see him right now knees all skinned up
With a magnifying glass tryin to melt the Tonka truck
Wont he be a sight with his football helmet on
Thatll be his first love til his first love comes along
Hell get his heart broke by the time hes in his teens
And heaven help him if hes anything like me
Hell probably stay out to late and drive his car to fast
Get a speeding ticket hell pay for mowing grass
Hes gonna get caught skippin class and be ground for a week
Hes gonna get in trouble were gonna get in fights
Im gonna lose my temper and some sleep
Its safe to say that im gonna get my pay back if hes anything like me
Hes gonna love me and hate me along the way
Years are gonna fly by I already dread the day
Hes gonna hug hes momma hes gonna shake my hand
Hes gonna act like he cant wait to leave
But as he drives out hell cry hes eyes out
If he's anything like me there's worse folks to be like
Aw he'll be alright if hes anything like me
Anything Like Me
by Brad Paisley
I remember sayin I dont care either way
Just as long as he or she is healthy Im ok
Then the doctor pointed to the corner of the screen
And said Ya see that thing right there well ya know what that means
And I started wondering who he was going to be
And I thought heaven help us if hes anything like me
Hell probably climb a tree to tall and ride hes bike to fast
End up every summer wearin something in a cast
Hes gonna throw a ball and break some glass in a window down the street
Hes gonna get in trouble oh hes gonna get in fights
Im gonna lose my temper and some sleep
It safe to say that im gonna get my pay back if hes anything like me
I can see him right now knees all skinned up
With a magnifying glass tryin to melt the Tonka truck
Wont he be a sight with his football helmet on
Thatll be his first love til his first love comes along
Hell get his heart broke by the time hes in his teens
And heaven help him if hes anything like me
Hell probably stay out to late and drive his car to fast
Get a speeding ticket hell pay for mowing grass
Hes gonna get caught skippin class and be ground for a week
Hes gonna get in trouble were gonna get in fights
Im gonna lose my temper and some sleep
Its safe to say that im gonna get my pay back if hes anything like me
Hes gonna love me and hate me along the way
Years are gonna fly by I already dread the day
Hes gonna hug hes momma hes gonna shake my hand
Hes gonna act like he cant wait to leave
But as he drives out hell cry hes eyes out
If he's anything like me there's worse folks to be like
Aw he'll be alright if hes anything like me
(Photo credits are not mine)
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Like Father, Like Son
Like Father, Like Son from the Broadway rock opera Aida.
ZOSER
Don't come on so cocksure boy, you can't escape your genes
No point in feeling pure boy, your background intervenes
Listen good and listen straight, you're not the master of your fate
To this you must be reconciled; you'll always be your father's child
At times acclaimed, at times reviled
You'll wind up doing just what I've done
Like father, like son
RADAMES
Don't assume your vices get handed down the line
That a parent's blood suffices to condemn the child's design
I've done wrong, I can't deny, but at least I know that I
Shouldn't blame that on my stock, this may come as quite a shock
I'm no chip off any block, I wouldn't wish those words on anyone
Like father, like son
ZOSER
Don't come on so cocksure boy, you can't escape your genes
No point in feeling pure boy, your background intervenes
Listen good and listen straight, you're not the master of your fate
To this you must be reconciled; you'll always be your father's child
At times acclaimed, at times reviled
You'll wind up doing just what I've done
Like father, like son
RADAMES
Don't assume your vices get handed down the line
That a parent's blood suffices to condemn the child's design
I've done wrong, I can't deny, but at least I know that I
Shouldn't blame that on my stock, this may come as quite a shock
I'm no chip off any block, I wouldn't wish those words on anyone
Like father, like son
Friday, June 25, 2010
The death of the future
To a father, when a child dies, the future dies; to a child when a parent dies, the past dies.
- Red Auerbach
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Shocking father moments in movie history
Darth Vader: Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.
Luke Skywalker: He told me enough! He told me you killed him!
Vader Skywalker: No. I am your father.
Luke Skywalker: He told me enough! He told me you killed him!
Vader Skywalker: No. I am your father.
(6/23) My father's hats
My father had a million hats. A ton of baseball hats, and a bunch of other random ones as well.
My Father's Hats
by Mark Irwin
Sunday mornings I would reach
high into his dark closet while standing
on a chair and tiptoeing reach
higher, touching, sometimes fumbling
the soft crowns and imagine
I was in a forest, wind hymning
through pines, where the musky scent
of rain clinging to damp earth was
his scent I loved, lingering on
bands, leather, and on the inner silk
crowns where I would smell his
hair and almost think I was being
held, or climbing a tree, touching
the yellow fruit, leaves whose scent
was that of clove in the godsome
air, as now, thinking of his fabulous
sleep, I stand on this canyon floor
and watch light slowly close
on water I can't be sure is there.
(6/22) Everything he knew
Dad taught me everything I know. Unfortunately, he didn't teach me everything he knows.
~Al Unser, Jr.
(6/21) I'm behind...but I had all these entries ready to go and forgot woops
"The thing to remember about fathers is, they're men. A girl has to keep it in mind: They are dragon seekers, bent on improbable rescues. Scratch any father, you find Someone chock full of qualms and romantic terrors, Believing change is a threat Like your first shoes with heels on, like your first bicycle
It took such months to get."
-- Phyllis McGinley
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Father's Day 2010
My father died when I was 17. I wasn't a baby so I haven't forgotten him entirely. But each day/month/year a little bit more of him fades (coupled with the fact that I have trouble recollecting my childhood years anyway). One thing that will always stick with me, though, were his hands. Big and brown with white palms. Palms that were crossed with a million lines -- lines he passed down to me, somewhat unfortunately lol. His left ring finger was always indented when he removed his ring, indented from wearing it faithfully across 25 odd years -- my parent's marriage wasn't a happy one, but their love for each other was always there somehow. I can see them as he molded clay, punished my brother and I (never my sister), worked on the car, laid the floor, broke things in anger, hammered things together, pecked at the keyboard, spun the steering wheel. If I forget everything else about him, I think his hands will always stay with me.
Happy father's day.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Lucky the father...
"Lucky that man whose children make his happiness in life and not his grief,
the anguished disappointment of his hopes. "
-- Euripedes
(6/18) Papa Loved Mama
Little ditty by Garth Brooks
Papa Loved Mama
Papa drove a truck nearly all his life
You know it drove mama crazy being a trucker's wife
The part she couldn't handle was the being alone
I guess she needed more to hold than just a telephone
Papa called Mama each and every night
Just to ask her how she was and if us kids were alright
Mama would wait for that call to come in
When Daddy'd hang up she was gone again
Mama was a looker
Lord, how she shined
Papa was a good'n
But the jealous kind
Papa loved Mama
Mama loved men
Mama's in the graveyard
Papa's in the pen
Well it was bound to happen and one night it did
Papa came home and it was just us kids
He had a dozen roses and a bottle of wine
If he was lookin' to surprise us he was doin' fine
I heard him cry for Mama up and own the hall
Then I heard a bottle break against the bedroom wall
That old diesel engine made an eerie sound
When Papa fired it up and headed into town
Well the picture in the paper showed the scene real well
Papa's rig was buried in the local motel
The desk clerk said he saw it all real clear
He never hit the brakes and he was shifting gears
Mama was a looker
Lord, how she shined
Papa was a good'n
But the jealous kind
Papa loved Mama
Mama loved men
Mama's in the graveyard
Papa's in the pen
Papa Loved Mama
Papa drove a truck nearly all his life
You know it drove mama crazy being a trucker's wife
The part she couldn't handle was the being alone
I guess she needed more to hold than just a telephone
Papa called Mama each and every night
Just to ask her how she was and if us kids were alright
Mama would wait for that call to come in
When Daddy'd hang up she was gone again
Mama was a looker
Lord, how she shined
Papa was a good'n
But the jealous kind
Papa loved Mama
Mama loved men
Mama's in the graveyard
Papa's in the pen
Well it was bound to happen and one night it did
Papa came home and it was just us kids
He had a dozen roses and a bottle of wine
If he was lookin' to surprise us he was doin' fine
I heard him cry for Mama up and own the hall
Then I heard a bottle break against the bedroom wall
That old diesel engine made an eerie sound
When Papa fired it up and headed into town
Well the picture in the paper showed the scene real well
Papa's rig was buried in the local motel
The desk clerk said he saw it all real clear
He never hit the brakes and he was shifting gears
Mama was a looker
Lord, how she shined
Papa was a good'n
But the jealous kind
Papa loved Mama
Mama loved men
Mama's in the graveyard
Papa's in the pen
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Heathcliff Huxtable Best Dad Everrrr
So I LOVE The Cosby Show. Bill Cosby's portrayal of Heathcliff Huxtable has to be one of the most memorable father performances in television. Here are two clips from one of my favorite episodes that features both Heathcliff, his son, and his father. They reveal dumb things they've done to impress girls. The clips are from the episode Independence Day episode 14 of season 1 (the majority of it is in the first link).
Season 1, Episode 14, Part 2
Season 1, Episode 14, Part 3
Season 1, Episode 14, Part 2
Season 1, Episode 14, Part 3
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Quote on adversity care of Matt Damon (back when he was cute)
The following is a quote from the film The Legend of Bagger Vance. Matt Damon's character is telling the little boy that he should respect his father because he decided to work a menial job and support his family and repay his debts rather than declare bankruptcy when the Great Depression hit.
Rannulph Junuh: Your daddy is out sweeping streets because he took every last dime he had and used it to pay up every man and woman he owed and every business who worked for him, instead of declaring bankruptcy like everyone else in town, including your best friend Wilbur Charles' dad, Raymond, which is why he's able to sit around all day long on his dignity! Your daddy stared adversity in the eye, Hardy. And he beat it back with a broom.
Rannulph Junuh: Your daddy is out sweeping streets because he took every last dime he had and used it to pay up every man and woman he owed and every business who worked for him, instead of declaring bankruptcy like everyone else in town, including your best friend Wilbur Charles' dad, Raymond, which is why he's able to sit around all day long on his dignity! Your daddy stared adversity in the eye, Hardy. And he beat it back with a broom.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
John Mayer's take on fatherhood
Despite that it's a poorly performed karaoke/audition favorite, it's still beautiful and in many ways true.
Daughters
by John Mayer
I know a girl
She puts a color inside of my world
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls all continually change
And I've done all I can
To stand on her steps with heart in my hands
Now I'm starting to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me
Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left
Cleaning up the mess he made
So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
Boys, you can break
You'll found out how much they can take
Boys will be strong
Boys soldier on
But boys would be gone without warmth from
A woman's good, good heart
On behalf of every man
Looking out for every girl
You are the god and the weight of her world
So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too.
(6/14) You're not the father
I spent my summers growing up watching Maury. I can't tell you how many times I've heard the phrase "You're not the father."
(6/13) Leaving kids to be raised by wolves or apes
In our society leaving baby with Daddy is just one step above
leaving the kids to be raised by wolves or apes.
- Al Roker
I don't think so. Generally the father's who raise their children by themselves are better than a lot of fathers. Interesting quote though, no?
(6/12) First father's day
For the record I haven't really been AS lazy as I look, I've been on a vacation the past weekend.
For today (that day) a fact:
The first observance of Father's Day is said to have taken place on June 13, 1910.
(compliments of wiki)
For today (that day) a fact:
The first observance of Father's Day is said to have taken place on June 13, 1910.
(compliments of wiki)
So behind (6/11)
Anyone who knows me knows how much I love Beyonce. Here is a song by her called Daddy.
Daddy
by Beyonce
I remember when you used to take me on a bike ride
Everyday on the bayou
And I remember when you could do no wrong
You'd come home from work and i juped in your arms when I saw you
I was so happy to see you
Because you loved me I overcome
And I'm so proud of what you've become
You've given me such security
No matter what mistakes I make you're there for me
You kill my disappointments and you heal my pain
You understood my fears and you protected me
Treasure every irreplaceable memory and that's why
I want my unborn son to be like my daddy
There is no one else like my daddy
And I thank you for loving me
I still remember the expression on your face
When you found out I'd been on a date and had a boyfriend
I still remember I caught you crying cause of my tattoo
Could have said Beyonce I told you so
Instead you said you'd get one too
Words can't express m y boundless gratitude for you
I appreciate what you do
You've given me such security
No matter what mistakes I make you're there for me
You kill my disappointments and you heal my pain
You understand my fears and you protected me
Treasure every extraordinary memory and that's why
I want my unborn son to be like my daddy
I want my husband to be like my daddy
there is no one else like my daddy
And I tihnk you for loving me
Even if my man broke my heart today
No matter how much pain I'm in I will be okay
Cause I got a man in my life that can't be replaced
For this love is unconditional it won't go away
I know I'm lucky
Know it ain't easy
for men who take care of their responsibilities
Love is overwhelming
can't help my tears from falling
I love you so much daddy
Daddy
by Beyonce
I remember when you used to take me on a bike ride
Everyday on the bayou
And I remember when you could do no wrong
You'd come home from work and i juped in your arms when I saw you
I was so happy to see you
Because you loved me I overcome
And I'm so proud of what you've become
You've given me such security
No matter what mistakes I make you're there for me
You kill my disappointments and you heal my pain
You understood my fears and you protected me
Treasure every irreplaceable memory and that's why
I want my unborn son to be like my daddy
There is no one else like my daddy
And I thank you for loving me
I still remember the expression on your face
When you found out I'd been on a date and had a boyfriend
I still remember I caught you crying cause of my tattoo
Could have said Beyonce I told you so
Instead you said you'd get one too
Words can't express m y boundless gratitude for you
I appreciate what you do
You've given me such security
No matter what mistakes I make you're there for me
You kill my disappointments and you heal my pain
You understand my fears and you protected me
Treasure every extraordinary memory and that's why
I want my unborn son to be like my daddy
I want my husband to be like my daddy
there is no one else like my daddy
And I tihnk you for loving me
Even if my man broke my heart today
No matter how much pain I'm in I will be okay
Cause I got a man in my life that can't be replaced
For this love is unconditional it won't go away
I know I'm lucky
Know it ain't easy
for men who take care of their responsibilities
Love is overwhelming
can't help my tears from falling
I love you so much daddy
Thursday, June 10, 2010
For Dads Who "Didn't Have to Be"
The following links are to two songs dedicated to step fathers who treated their children as their own. Men like that are definitely to be admired.
Brad Paisley - He Didn't Have to Be
Blaine Larsen - The Best Man
Brad Paisley - He Didn't Have to Be
Blaine Larsen - The Best Man
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
1001 rules for my unborn son
Author Walker Lamond wrote the book Rules for My Unborn Son. His website is featured here Rules for my unborn son.
They're great pieces of wisdom, some are just funny. Visit the website for random rules.
Here are a few:
Rule 22: Girls like boys who shower.
Rule 272: If a teacher forgets to assign homework, keep quiet.
Rule 439: Return a lost wallet
Rule 175: Never leave a job without securing your next employment. (But when it's time to go, don't hesitate.)
Rule 389: After writing an angry email, read it carefully. Then delete it.
They're great pieces of wisdom, some are just funny. Visit the website for random rules.
Here are a few:
Rule 22: Girls like boys who shower.
Rule 272: If a teacher forgets to assign homework, keep quiet.
Rule 439: Return a lost wallet
Rule 175: Never leave a job without securing your next employment. (But when it's time to go, don't hesitate.)
Rule 389: After writing an angry email, read it carefully. Then delete it.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Wallet pictures
A father carries pictures where his money used to be.
- Anonymous
I think my dad was still carrying my 3rd grade softball picture in his wallet when I was 16.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Daddy
By the way: Sylvia Plath is kinda crazy
Daddy
by Sylvia Plath
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time --
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as Frisco seal
And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.
In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend
Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root.
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.
It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich.
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the langauge obscene
An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.
The snows of Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.
I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat muscahe
And your Aryan eye, bright blue,
Panzer-man, panzer-pan, O You --
Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.
you stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have over you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who
Bit my pretty read heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.
But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and teh screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.
I've killed on man, I've killed two --
the vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.
Daddy
by Sylvia Plath
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time --
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as Frisco seal
And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.
In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend
Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root.
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.
It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich.
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the langauge obscene
An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.
The snows of Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.
I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat muscahe
And your Aryan eye, bright blue,
Panzer-man, panzer-pan, O You --
Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.
you stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have over you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who
Bit my pretty read heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.
But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and teh screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.
I've killed on man, I've killed two --
the vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.
Shitmydadsays
Hilarious twitter account that's sparked a tv show (that I cannot imagine will do well) and a book.
Shitmydadsays
A favorite: "I need to change clothes? Wow. That's big talk coming from someone who looks like they robbed a Mervyn's."
Shitmydadsays
A favorite: "I need to change clothes? Wow. That's big talk coming from someone who looks like they robbed a Mervyn's."
Saturday, June 5, 2010
He meant to do more good than he meant to do harm
Cory: ...Papa was like a shadow that followed you everwhere. It weighed on you and sunk into your flesh. It would wrap around you and lay there until you couldn't tell which one was you anymore. That shadow digging in your flesh. Trying to crawl in. Trying to live through you...I'm just saying I've got to find a way to get rid of that shadow, Mama.
...
Rose: You can't be nobody but who you are, Cory. That shadow wasn't nothing but you growing into yourself. You either got to grow into it or cut it down to fit you. But that's all you got to make life with. That's all you got to measure yourself against that world out there. Your daddy wanted you to be everything he wasn't...but at the same time he tried to make you into everything he was. I don't know if he was right or wrong...but I do know he meant to do more good than he meant to do harm. He wasn't always right. Sometimes when he touched he bruised.
The above is an excerpt from August Wilson's play Fences. It is an incredible play that my brother performed in a few years ago, the similarities between Troy (the father) and my father, and Cory (the son) and my brother, and Rose (the mother/wife) and my mom were striking. Characteristics I mean, not so much actions. The play is beautiful, and the excerpt above is from the scene after Troy has died, the exchange between Cory and Rose is always with me, particularly Rose's monologues which continues on. Rambling, sorry. Done. ALSO Denzel Washington is performing it on Broadway right now, I would give my right arm to see it haha.
...
Rose: You can't be nobody but who you are, Cory. That shadow wasn't nothing but you growing into yourself. You either got to grow into it or cut it down to fit you. But that's all you got to make life with. That's all you got to measure yourself against that world out there. Your daddy wanted you to be everything he wasn't...but at the same time he tried to make you into everything he was. I don't know if he was right or wrong...but I do know he meant to do more good than he meant to do harm. He wasn't always right. Sometimes when he touched he bruised.
The above is an excerpt from August Wilson's play Fences. It is an incredible play that my brother performed in a few years ago, the similarities between Troy (the father) and my father, and Cory (the son) and my brother, and Rose (the mother/wife) and my mom were striking. Characteristics I mean, not so much actions. The play is beautiful, and the excerpt above is from the scene after Troy has died, the exchange between Cory and Rose is always with me, particularly Rose's monologues which continues on. Rambling, sorry. Done. ALSO Denzel Washington is performing it on Broadway right now, I would give my right arm to see it haha.
(6/4) Meet you halfway
You will find that if you really try to be a father, your child will meet you halfway.
- Robert Brault
Ahhh I cannot seem to post these everyday I really thought I had done one yesterday haha.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Mother/father paradox
My mother protected me from the world
and my father threatened me with it.
and my father threatened me with it.
- Quentin Crisp
(6/2) Tough Little Boys
This song always reminds me of my dad's relationship with my sister. (Click the link for the video/song)
Tough Little Boys
by Gary Allan
Well I never once, backed down from a punch.
Well I'd take it square on the chin.
but I found out fast that bully’s just laugh,
When you've got to stand up to them.
So I didn't cry when I got a black eye,
As bad as it hurt I just grinned.
But when tough little boys grow up to be dads
They turn into be babies again.
Scared me to death, when you took your first steps,
Well I'd fall every time you fell down.
Your first day of school, I cried like a fool, and
I followed your school bus to town.
Well I didn't cry when Old Yeller died,
At least not in front of my friends.
But when tough little boys grow up to be dads
They turn into be babies again.
Well I'm a grown man but as strong as I am,
sometimes its hard to believe,
How one little girl with little blonde curls,
Can totally terrify me.
If you were to ask my wife would just laugh,
She'd say, "I know all about men,
And how tough little boys grow up to be Dads
They turn into be babies again."
Well I know one day I'll give you away,
And I'm gonna stand there and smile.
But when I get home and I'm all alone,
Well I'll sit in your room for a while.
Well I didn't cry when Old Yeller died,
At least not in front of my friends.
But when tough little boys grow up to be dads
They turn into be babies again.
When tough little boys grow up to be dads
They turn into be babies again.
Tough Little Boys
by Gary Allan
Well I never once, backed down from a punch.
Well I'd take it square on the chin.
but I found out fast that bully’s just laugh,
When you've got to stand up to them.
So I didn't cry when I got a black eye,
As bad as it hurt I just grinned.
But when tough little boys grow up to be dads
They turn into be babies again.
Scared me to death, when you took your first steps,
Well I'd fall every time you fell down.
Your first day of school, I cried like a fool, and
I followed your school bus to town.
Well I didn't cry when Old Yeller died,
At least not in front of my friends.
But when tough little boys grow up to be dads
They turn into be babies again.
Well I'm a grown man but as strong as I am,
sometimes its hard to believe,
How one little girl with little blonde curls,
Can totally terrify me.
If you were to ask my wife would just laugh,
She'd say, "I know all about men,
And how tough little boys grow up to be Dads
They turn into be babies again."
Well I know one day I'll give you away,
And I'm gonna stand there and smile.
But when I get home and I'm all alone,
Well I'll sit in your room for a while.
Well I didn't cry when Old Yeller died,
At least not in front of my friends.
But when tough little boys grow up to be dads
They turn into be babies again.
When tough little boys grow up to be dads
They turn into be babies again.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
June: Fatherhood
My father and I never got along. We valued different things, we had opposite opinions on almost everything, we held different beliefs about people and identity. I was never black enough for him and loved the rest of my family too much.
In short, I'm hesitant to make this month about fathers because my personal experience with my own is not a good one, and I'm afraid it'll seep through. It will seep through, just to warn you now. There are a lot of quotes and poems and songs out there that have a positive view as well and I will put those in, maybe even the bulk of them will be. I just thought I should give this disclaimer.
In short, I'm hesitant to make this month about fathers because my personal experience with my own is not a good one, and I'm afraid it'll seep through. It will seep through, just to warn you now. There are a lot of quotes and poems and songs out there that have a positive view as well and I will put those in, maybe even the bulk of them will be. I just thought I should give this disclaimer.
It is much easier to become a father than to be one.
- Kent Nerburn
Monday, May 31, 2010
Forgiveness, the key to love
If we really want to love, we must learn how to forgive.
- Mother Theresa
To my mom: I love you and appreciate your forgiveness, understanding, love, and support more than words can express.
And here ends the month of Mothers. Onto fathers just to be fair.
(5/30) Selective ignorance in parenting
Selective ignorance, a cornerstone of child rearing. You don't put kids under surveillance: it might frighten you. Parents should sit tall in the saddle and look upon their troops with a noble and benevolent and extremely nearsighted gaze.
-Keillor Garrison
-Keillor Garrison
5/29 Reluctance
I almost don't want to post one in respect to this day because it was the worst night of my life. But, it's dumb to just skip a day.
You have to love your children unselfishly. That is hard. But it is the only way - Barbara Bush
You have to love your children unselfishly. That is hard. But it is the only way - Barbara Bush
Friday, May 28, 2010
A special birthday dedication
This post is in honor of my aunt Tricia Pierce, who on this fateful day 19 years ago birthed the ridiculous, beautiful, amazing, funny, spirited, brilliant and wonderful girl who is my favooorite female cousin Hannah Kate Pierce. Happy birthday my love. May this year bring you a million beautiful surprises. And because you said you liked it...
May you have warm words on a cool evening, a full moon on a dark night, and a smooth road all the way to your door.
- Irish Toast
Hannah: 18, Mariah: 19 (in spite of the fact that I look 12.)
(This is my clever ploy to force you to read my blog Hannah Pierce bahahha. I love you.)
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Some mother's just can't let go...
I found this video on Youtube today. I was creeped out. Maybe you will be, maybe not. But I will share anyway.
Breastfeeding...at age 8.
Breastfeeding...at age 8.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Funny tumblr about parenting
Shit my kids ruined:
http://shitmykidsruined.tumblr.com/
Seriously hilarious.
Some shit I ruined as a kid:
- made a hole in the wall by slamming the door OPEN
- broke a small cabinet door by leaning on it one too many times
- broke the wheel off a spinny chair by leaning back on it
- blew up a plate in the microwave
- etc etc lol
http://shitmykidsruined.tumblr.com/
Seriously hilarious.
Some shit I ruined as a kid:
- made a hole in the wall by slamming the door OPEN
- broke a small cabinet door by leaning on it one too many times
- broke the wheel off a spinny chair by leaning back on it
- blew up a plate in the microwave
- etc etc lol
Monday, May 24, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Is your mama a llama?
His is.
Sorry for the inane post, expect more to come unfortunately. I'm exhausted, overworked, underpaid, and overwhelmed as of late. But appreciate that adorable little llama.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
I am my mother's daughter
The following is an excerpt from the film Spanglish in which a young immigrant girl (who quickly becomes Americanized) is writing to a college admissions board about an experience that defined her life, namely hers and her mother's first year in the US. While spending the first year being taken under a white family's wing, she realizes in the end that she need not be anything more than she already was -- her mother's daughter.
"I've been overwhelmed by your encouragement to apply to your university and your list of scholarships available to me. Though, as I hope this essay shows, your acceptance, while it would thrill me, will not define me. My identity rests firmly and happily on one fact: I am my mother's daughter.
Thank you, Cristina Moreno"
Friday, May 21, 2010
MADD
We should all really be against drunk driving I think. But MADD makes it their business to publicize and educate. I haven't heard much about them since I was in elementary school, but I figure I should give them a shout out.
Mothers Against Drunk Driving http://www.madd.org/About-Us.aspx
Mothers Against Drunk Driving http://www.madd.org/About-Us.aspx
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Even Big Boi has a mama
"You are your only limitation."
- Advice from Big Boi (of Outkast)'s mother Rowena Patton
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Don't Play Games with Heads or Hearts
I'm borrowing these bits of motherly advice from a blog I follow called THIS IS ME, DAMN IT! written by Stacey Chambers. You should follow it too.
"Advice to my daughter(s)…
Just say what you mean and mean what you say. Don't expect someone to read your mind,and don't play games with heads or hearts. Don't tell half truths and expect trust when the full truth comes out. Half truths are no better then lies. Don't be cold to someone you care about - indifference hurts more then angry words.
If you are angry - say it! Give the other person the opportunity to explain or make a change for the better. They can't do that unless they know why you're angry. In the same vein - if you care about someone say that too.
When you fall in love - love with your whole heart - and expect the same in return. Realize you deserve that - more than anything. Don't expect to change someone to make them love you - it won't work and love after all is completely out of your hands.
Don't rely on someone else for your happiness and self worth. Only you can be responsible for that. If you can't love and respect yourself - no one else will be able to make that happen. Accept who you are - completely; the good and the bad - and make changes as YOU see fit - not because you think someone else wants you to be different."
"Advice to my daughter(s)…
Just say what you mean and mean what you say. Don't expect someone to read your mind,and don't play games with heads or hearts. Don't tell half truths and expect trust when the full truth comes out. Half truths are no better then lies. Don't be cold to someone you care about - indifference hurts more then angry words.
If you are angry - say it! Give the other person the opportunity to explain or make a change for the better. They can't do that unless they know why you're angry. In the same vein - if you care about someone say that too.
When you fall in love - love with your whole heart - and expect the same in return. Realize you deserve that - more than anything. Don't expect to change someone to make them love you - it won't work and love after all is completely out of your hands.
Don't rely on someone else for your happiness and self worth. Only you can be responsible for that. If you can't love and respect yourself - no one else will be able to make that happen. Accept who you are - completely; the good and the bad - and make changes as YOU see fit - not because you think someone else wants you to be different."
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Awkward Family Photos
Okay, I've been one of AFP's biggest fans since its inception. Here is a recent entry that fits well with this month....Hilariousss. AFP
Monday, May 17, 2010
Spice Girlsss
Why? Because the Spice Girls played the soundtrack of my formative years
Mama
by Spice Girls
She used to be my only enemy and never let me be free
Catching me in places that I knew I shouldn't be
Every other day, I crossed the line, I didn't mean to be so bad
I never thought you would become the friend I never had
Back then, I didn't know why, why you were misunderstood
So now, I see through your eyes, all that you did was love
Mama, I love you, Mama, I care,
Mama, I love you, Mama, my friend
My friend
I didn't want to hear it then, but I'm not ashamed to say it now,
Every little thing you said and did was right for me
I had a lot of time to think about, about the way I used to be
Never had a sense of my responsibility
Back then, I didn't know why, why you were misunderstood
So now, I see through your eyes, all that you did was love
Mama, I love you, Mama, I care,
Mama, I love you, Mama, my friend
My friend, you're my friend
But now, I'm sure I know why, why you were misunderstood
So now, I see through your eyes, all I can give you is love
Mama, I love you, Mama, I care,
Mama, I love you, Mama, my friend
Mama, I love you, Mama, I care
Mama, I love you, Mama, my friend
You're my friend, you're my friend
(Whoa whoa whoa whoa, Mama whoa whoa)
Mama, I love you, Mama, I care,
Mama, I love you, Mama, my friend
Listen to the song here
Mama
by Spice Girls
She used to be my only enemy and never let me be free
Catching me in places that I knew I shouldn't be
Every other day, I crossed the line, I didn't mean to be so bad
I never thought you would become the friend I never had
Back then, I didn't know why, why you were misunderstood
So now, I see through your eyes, all that you did was love
Mama, I love you, Mama, I care,
Mama, I love you, Mama, my friend
My friend
I didn't want to hear it then, but I'm not ashamed to say it now,
Every little thing you said and did was right for me
I had a lot of time to think about, about the way I used to be
Never had a sense of my responsibility
Back then, I didn't know why, why you were misunderstood
So now, I see through your eyes, all that you did was love
Mama, I love you, Mama, I care,
Mama, I love you, Mama, my friend
My friend, you're my friend
But now, I'm sure I know why, why you were misunderstood
So now, I see through your eyes, all I can give you is love
Mama, I love you, Mama, I care,
Mama, I love you, Mama, my friend
Mama, I love you, Mama, I care
Mama, I love you, Mama, my friend
You're my friend, you're my friend
(Whoa whoa whoa whoa, Mama whoa whoa)
Mama, I love you, Mama, I care,
Mama, I love you, Mama, my friend
Listen to the song here
(For 5/16) Kissing and scolding
Some are kissing mothers and some are scolding mothers, but it is love just the same, and most mothers kiss and scold together.
- Pearl S. buck
(For 5/15) Paradoxical and tragic
The mother-child relationship is paradoxical and, in a sense, tragic. It requires the most intense love on the mother's side, yet this very love must help the child grow away from the mother, and to become fully independent.
- Erich Fromm
(For 5/14) Divine Animal Right
Lord am I behind. This is a quote from a movie I love "Enough" which stars Jennifer Lopez. Before she is about to confront her abusive husband for the last time, she phones her best friend Ginny who gives her this reminder.
That as a mother...
"You have a divine animal right to protect your own life and the life of your offspring."
That as a mother...
"You have a divine animal right to protect your own life and the life of your offspring."
Thursday, May 13, 2010
From a mother not quite ready to let go
To a Daughter Leaving Home
by Linda Pastan
When I taught you
at eight to ride
a bicycle, loping along
beside you
as you wobbled away
on two round wheels,
my own mouth rounding
in surprise when you pulled
ahead down the curved
path of the park,
I kept waiting
for the thud
of your crash as I
sprinted to catch up,
while you grew
smaller, more breakable
with distance,
pumping, pumping
for your life, screaming
with laughter,
the hair flapping
behind you like a
handkerchief waving
goodbye.
by Linda Pastan
When I taught you
at eight to ride
a bicycle, loping along
beside you
as you wobbled away
on two round wheels,
my own mouth rounding
in surprise when you pulled
ahead down the curved
path of the park,
I kept waiting
for the thud
of your crash as I
sprinted to catch up,
while you grew
smaller, more breakable
with distance,
pumping, pumping
for your life, screaming
with laughter,
the hair flapping
behind you like a
handkerchief waving
goodbye.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Mama said there'd be days like this
My life has been a disaster lately. My mother tries to convince me that these things too shall pass. From another mother with this outlook...
Que Sera, Sera
by Doris Day in "The Man Who Knew too much"
When I was just a little girl,
I asked my mother 'What will I be?
Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?'
Here's what she said to me:
"Que sera, sera,
"Que sera, sera,
whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be."
(For 5/11) The tragedy of children
All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his.
- Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest
(For 5/10) Miscarriage?
I'm not sure if this is really about a miscarriage or about abortion, on the internet they say miscarriage, I always read it as abortion. Either way, it's a sad story.
the lost baby poem
by lucille clifton
the time i dropped your almost body down
down to meet the waters under the city
and run one with the sewage to the sea
what did i know about waters rushing back
what did i know about drowning
or being drowned
you would have been born in winter
in the year of the disconnected gas
and no car
we would have made the thin walk
over the genecy hill into the canada winds
to let you slip into a stranger's hands
if you were here i could tell you
these and some other things
and if i am ever less than a mountain
for your definite brothers and sisters
let the rivers wash over my head
let the sea take me for a spiller of seas
let black men call me stranger always
for your never named sake
the lost baby poem
by lucille clifton
the time i dropped your almost body down
down to meet the waters under the city
and run one with the sewage to the sea
what did i know about waters rushing back
what did i know about drowning
or being drowned
you would have been born in winter
in the year of the disconnected gas
and no car
we would have made the thin walk
over the genecy hill into the canada winds
to let you slip into a stranger's hands
if you were here i could tell you
these and some other things
and if i am ever less than a mountain
for your definite brothers and sisters
let the rivers wash over my head
let the sea take me for a spiller of seas
let black men call me stranger always
for your never named sake
Sunday, May 9, 2010
I am my mother's novel
It's Mother's Day, so I wanted to post my favorite poem about mothers today. It seems fitting.
My Mother's Novel
by Marge Piercy
Married academic woman ten
years younger holding that microphone
like a bazooka, forgive
me that I do some number of things
that you fantasize but frame
impossible. Understand:
I am my mother's daughter,
a small woman of large longings.
Energy hurled through her
confined and fierce as in a wind
tunnel. Born to a mean
harried poverty crosshatched
by spidery fears and fitfully
lit by explosions
of politics, she married her way
at length into the solid workingclass:
a box of house, a car she could
not drive, a TV set kept turned
to the blare of football,
terrifying power tools, used wall
to wall carpeting protected
by scatter rugs.
Out of backyard posies
permitted to fringe
the proud hanky lawn
her imagination hummed
and made honey,
occassionally exploding
in mad queen swarms.
I am her only novel.
The plot is melodramatic,
hot lovers leap out of
thickets, it makes you cry
a lot, in between the revolutionary
heroics and making good
home-cooked soup.
Understand: I am my mother's
novel daughter: I
have my duty to perform.
(100th post by the way!)
My Mother's Novel
by Marge Piercy
Married academic woman ten
years younger holding that microphone
like a bazooka, forgive
me that I do some number of things
that you fantasize but frame
impossible. Understand:
I am my mother's daughter,
a small woman of large longings.
Energy hurled through her
confined and fierce as in a wind
tunnel. Born to a mean
harried poverty crosshatched
by spidery fears and fitfully
lit by explosions
of politics, she married her way
at length into the solid workingclass:
a box of house, a car she could
not drive, a TV set kept turned
to the blare of football,
terrifying power tools, used wall
to wall carpeting protected
by scatter rugs.
Out of backyard posies
permitted to fringe
the proud hanky lawn
her imagination hummed
and made honey,
occassionally exploding
in mad queen swarms.
I am her only novel.
The plot is melodramatic,
hot lovers leap out of
thickets, it makes you cry
a lot, in between the revolutionary
heroics and making good
home-cooked soup.
Understand: I am my mother's
novel daughter: I
have my duty to perform.
(100th post by the way!)
(5/8) The link that joins you to the night
Woman to Child
by Judith Wright
You who were darkness warmed my flesh
where out of darkness rose the seed.
Then all a world I made in me;
all the world you hear and see
hung upon my dreaming blood.
There moved the multitudinous stars,
and coloured birds and fishes moved.
There swam the sliding continents.
All tiem lay rolled in me, and sense,
and love that knew not its beloved.
O node and focus of the world;
I hold you deep within that well
you shall escape and not escape --
that mirrors still your sleeping shape
that nurtures still your crescent cell.
I wither and you break from me;
yet though you dance in living light
I am the earth, I am the root,
I am the stem that fed the fruit,
the link that joins you to the night.
by Judith Wright
You who were darkness warmed my flesh
where out of darkness rose the seed.
Then all a world I made in me;
all the world you hear and see
hung upon my dreaming blood.
There moved the multitudinous stars,
and coloured birds and fishes moved.
There swam the sliding continents.
All tiem lay rolled in me, and sense,
and love that knew not its beloved.
O node and focus of the world;
I hold you deep within that well
you shall escape and not escape --
that mirrors still your sleeping shape
that nurtures still your crescent cell.
I wither and you break from me;
yet though you dance in living light
I am the earth, I am the root,
I am the stem that fed the fruit,
the link that joins you to the night.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
A voice of regret
The Mother
by Gwendolyn Brooks
Abortions will not let you forget.
You remember the children you got that you did not get,
The damp small pulps with a little or with no hair,
The singers and workers that never handled the air.
You will never neglect or beat
Them, or silence or buy with a sweet.
You will never wind up the sucking-thumb
Or scuttle off ghosts that come.
You will never leave them, controlling your luscious sigh,
Return for a snack of them, with gobbling mother-eye.
I have heard in the voices of the wind the voices of my dim killed
children.
I have contracted. I have eased
My dim dears at the breasts they could never suck.
I have said, Sweets, if I sinned, if I seized
Your luck
And your lives from your unfinished reach,
If I stole your births and your names,
Your straight baby tears and your games,
Your stilted or lovely loves, your tumults, your marriages, aches,
and your deaths,
If I poisoned the beginnings of your breaths,
Believe that even in my deliberateness I was not deliberate.
Though why should I whine,
Whine that the crime was other than mine?--
Since anyhow you are dead.
Or rather, or instead,
You were never made.
But that too, I am afraid,
Is faulty: oh, what shall I say, how is the truth to be said?
You were born, you had body, you died.
It is just that you never giggled or planned or cried.
Believe me, I loved you all.
Believe me, I knew you, though faintly, and I loved, I loved you
All.
by Gwendolyn Brooks
Abortions will not let you forget.
You remember the children you got that you did not get,
The damp small pulps with a little or with no hair,
The singers and workers that never handled the air.
You will never neglect or beat
Them, or silence or buy with a sweet.
You will never wind up the sucking-thumb
Or scuttle off ghosts that come.
You will never leave them, controlling your luscious sigh,
Return for a snack of them, with gobbling mother-eye.
I have heard in the voices of the wind the voices of my dim killed
children.
I have contracted. I have eased
My dim dears at the breasts they could never suck.
I have said, Sweets, if I sinned, if I seized
Your luck
And your lives from your unfinished reach,
If I stole your births and your names,
Your straight baby tears and your games,
Your stilted or lovely loves, your tumults, your marriages, aches,
and your deaths,
If I poisoned the beginnings of your breaths,
Believe that even in my deliberateness I was not deliberate.
Though why should I whine,
Whine that the crime was other than mine?--
Since anyhow you are dead.
Or rather, or instead,
You were never made.
But that too, I am afraid,
Is faulty: oh, what shall I say, how is the truth to be said?
You were born, you had body, you died.
It is just that you never giggled or planned or cried.
Believe me, I loved you all.
Believe me, I knew you, though faintly, and I loved, I loved you
All.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
This downtown apartment sure makes me miss home
I'm looking at these studio apartments in downtown San Diego, so I thought this song fit well. Defnitelyy relate to this song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lmAi_qJoPbU
Don't Forget to Remember Me
by Carrie Underwood
18 years had come and gone
For momma they flew by
But for me they drug on and on
We were loading up that Chevy
Both tryin' not to cry
Momma kept on talking
Putting off good-bye
Then she took my hand and said
"Baby don't forget:
Before you hit the highway
You better stop for gas
And there's a 50 in the ashtray
In case you run short on cash
Here's a map and here's a Bible
If you ever lose your way
Just one more thing before you leave
Don't forget to remember me"
This downtown apartment sure makes me miss home
and those bills there on the counter
Keep telling me I'm on my own
And just like every Sunday I called momma up last night
And even when it's not, I tell her everything's all right
Before we hung up I said
"Hey momma, don't forget:
to tell my baby sister I'll see her in the fall
And tell me-maw that I miss her
Yeah, I should give her a call
And make sure you tell Daddy that I'm still his little girl
Yeah I still feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be
Don't forget to remember me"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lmAi_qJoPbU
Don't Forget to Remember Me
by Carrie Underwood
18 years had come and gone
For momma they flew by
But for me they drug on and on
We were loading up that Chevy
Both tryin' not to cry
Momma kept on talking
Putting off good-bye
Then she took my hand and said
"Baby don't forget:
Before you hit the highway
You better stop for gas
And there's a 50 in the ashtray
In case you run short on cash
Here's a map and here's a Bible
If you ever lose your way
Just one more thing before you leave
Don't forget to remember me"
This downtown apartment sure makes me miss home
and those bills there on the counter
Keep telling me I'm on my own
And just like every Sunday I called momma up last night
And even when it's not, I tell her everything's all right
Before we hung up I said
"Hey momma, don't forget:
to tell my baby sister I'll see her in the fall
And tell me-maw that I miss her
Yeah, I should give her a call
And make sure you tell Daddy that I'm still his little girl
Yeah I still feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be
Don't forget to remember me"
Monday, May 3, 2010
In her daughter's eyes, she is a hero
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLS0Y40WwlA
(recording)
And when she wraps her hand
It's hangin' on when your heart
(recording)
In My Daughter's Eyes
by Martina McBride
In my daughter's eyes I am a hero
I am strong and wise and I know no fear
But the truth is plain to see
She was sent to rescue me
I see who I wanna be
In my daughter's eyes
In my daughter's eyes everyone is equal
Darkness turns to light and the
world is at peace
This miracle God gave to me
gives me strength when I am weak
I find reason to believe
gives me strength when I am weak
I find reason to believe
In my daughter's eyes
And when she wraps her hand
around my finger
It puts a smile in my heart
Everything becomes a little clearer
I realize what life is all about
It's hangin' on when your heart
has had enough
It's giving more when you feel like giving up
I've seen the light
It's in my daughter's eyes
In my daughter's eyes I can see the future
A reflection of who I am and what will be
Though she'll grow and someday leave
Maybe raise a family
When I'm gone I hope you see how happy
she made me
For I'll be there
In my daughter's eyes
Sunday, May 2, 2010
In a world of unsurity, a constant.
Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world, a mother's love is not.
- James Joyce
Saturday, May 1, 2010
May, a Month for Mothers
Mothers Day is May 9th, so I figured that I'd dedicate this month to motherhood.
A reminder of a mother's willingness to go without...or to eat the burnt piece.
A reminder of a mother's willingness to go without...or to eat the burnt piece.
A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie.
-Tenneva Jordan
Friday, April 30, 2010
Some say the world will end in fire
I reserved my right earlier on to use Robert Frost again, and so, I will close out the month of April with him.
Fire and Ice
by Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
A smidge of Shakespeare (for 4/29)
A little Shakespeare mayhaps?
Sonnet 104
by William Shakespeare
To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure and no pace perceived;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion and mine eye may be deceived:
......For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred; thou age unbred: all of you who haven't been born yet
.....Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.
Sonnet 104
by William Shakespeare
To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from his figure and no pace perceived;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion and mine eye may be deceived:
......For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred; thou age unbred: all of you who haven't been born yet
.....Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Life's Scars
I love poems that are as true today as they were when they were writte 100 years ago. Here an example.
Life's Scars
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
They say the world is round, and yet
I often think it square,
So many little hurts we get
From corners here and there.
But one great truth in life I've found,
While journeying to the West-
The only folks who really wound
Are those we love the best.
The man you thoroughly despise
Can rouse your wrath, 'tis true;
Annoyance in your heart will rise
At things mere strangers do;
But those are only passing ills;
This rule all lives will prove;
The rankling wound which aches and thrills
Is dealt by hands we love.
The choicest garb, the sweetest grace,
Are oft to strangers shown;
Are oft to strangers shown;
The careless mien, the frowning face,
Are given to our own.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those who love us best.
Love does not grow on every tree,
Nor true hearts yearly bloom.
Alas for those who only see
This cut across a tomb!
But, soon or late, the fact grows plain
To all through sorrow's test:
The only folks who give us pain
Are those we love the best.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The Charge of the Light Brigade
So I'm a history major, and have spent the past 4 days engulfed in history preparing for my midterm this evening. Thus I think it's only right to post up a historical poem, even though it's not even a US history poem, it's about the Crimean War but whatevs. It's still nice and noble.
The Charge of the Light Brigade
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
"Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Someone had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made,
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Fog
Looking out my window, I'd have to say the fog's come in on a jungle cat's feet.
Fog
by Carl Sandburg
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Fog
by Carl Sandburg
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Children learn what they live
I truly believe in this idea. (See: Daughters by John Mayer -- comes to mind since I'm listening to him right now.)
If children live with tolerance,
Children Learn What they Live
by Dorothy Law Nolte
If children live with hostility,
they learn to fight.
If children live with ridicule,
they learn to be shy.
If children live with tolerance,
they learn to be patient.
If children live with encouragement,
they learn confidence.
If children live with praise,
they learn to appreciate.
If children live with fairness,
they learn justice.
If children live with security,
they learn faith.
If children live with approval,
they learn to like themselves.
If children live with acceptance, and friendship,
they learn to find love in the world.
For 4/24 The Walrus and the Carpenter
This is an excerpt from the poem The Walrus and the Carpenter by Lewis Caroll in his novel Alice in Wonderland. Although I read the book and have watched the movies, I will forever associate this poem with the movie Harriet the Spy. Before Harriet (Michelle Trachtenberg I believe) goes to bed her mentor/caretaker/friend (Rosie O'Donnell) recites this poem with her if memory serves.
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."
"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?
"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"
"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"
"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."
"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?
"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"
"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"
"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.
For 4/23, to my sister Sarah
This is for Friday since I was at my sister's that night and didn't get a chance to do this. For Sarah, I love and appreciate you dearly in case I don't tell you enough :).
The Sisters
by Rainer Maria Rilke
Look how the same possibilities
unfold in their opposite demeanors,
as though one saw different ages
passing through two identical rooms.
Each thinks that she props up the other,
while resting wearily on her support;
and they can't make use of one another,
for they cause blood to rest on blood,
when as in the former times they softly touch
and try, along the tree-lined walks,
to feel themselves conducted and to lead;
ah, the ways they go are not the same.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Because Oscar Wilde is silly
Oh Oscar Wilde, you slay me.
Sometimes a horrible marionette
The Harlot's House
by Oscar Wilde
We caught the tread of dancing feet,
We loitered down the moonlit street,
And stopped beneath the harlot's house.
Inside, above the din and fray,
We heard the loud musicians play
The 'Treues Liebes Herz' of Strauss.
Like strange mechanical grotesques,
Making fantastic arabesques,
The shadows raced across the blind.
We watched the ghostly dancers spin
To sound of horn and violin,
Like black leaves wheeling in the wind.
Like wire-pulled automatons,
Slim silhouetted skeletons
Went sidling through the slow quadrille,
Then took each other by the hand,
And danced a stately saraband;
Their laughter echoed thin and shrill.
Sometimes a clockwork puppet pressed
A phantom lover to her breast,
Sometimes they seemed to try to sing.
Sometimes a horrible marionette
Came out, and smoked its cigarette
Upon the steps like a live thing.
Then, turning to my love, I said,
'The dead are dancing with the dead,
The dust is whirling with the dust.'
But she - she heard the violin,
And left my side, and entered in:
Love passed into the house of lust.
Then suddenly the tune went false,
The dancers wearied of the waltz,
The shadows ceased to wheel and whirl.
And down the long and silent street,
The dawn, with silver-sandalled feet,
Crept like a frightened girl.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Remember that it could be otherwise
For better or worse, your current state could be otherwise. Embrace it for what it is, miserable or content, or as for me somewhere in the ether between.
Otherwise
by Jane Kenyon
I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.
Otherwise
by Jane Kenyon
I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
In the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul
This poem from Max Ehrmann is even more beautiful than I remembered it. I think I have more to bring to it now, and so I appreciate it more. It just gives me chills with its beauty and truth.
Desiderata
by Max Ehrmann
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.
Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Boulder, Colorado 12/09
Monday, April 19, 2010
Everyone is just waiting
This is how I feel right now. Like I'm in this waiting place, waiting for life to start happening in a more meaningful way. Here's an excerpt from one of my favorite Dr. Seuss books Oh! The Places You'll Go!
Waiting for the fish to bite
From Oh! The Places You'll Go!
by Dr. Seuss
You can get so confused that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come,
or a plane to go or the mail to come,
or the rain to go or the phone to ring,
or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls,
or a pair of pants or a wig with curls,
or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.
For 4/18 When you come to a place where the sidewalk ends...
Shel Silverstein poetry defined my childhood. I have most of his poetry books for kids and of course his classic storybook The Giving Tree. His poetry mixed silliness with art and often times wisdom. His love of children and inspiring creativity in them is sorely missed. RIP Shel.
Woulda-Coulda-Shoulda
by Shel Silverstein
All The Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas
Layin' In The Sun,
Talkin' 'Bout The Things
They Woulda-Coulda-Shoulda Done...
But All Those Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas
All Ran Away And Hid
From One Little Did.
So, so behind...for 4/17
In my defense I worked all day then went home where there was a power outage that went from 9pm to 7am Sunday morning. That's not why I didn't post though, just lazy lol. Since it's April...
April Rain Song
by Langston Hughes
Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.
Friday, April 16, 2010
May you know its beauty all the days of your life
I don't know if a blessing really counts as a poem, but I'm going to make it count. I have this posted on the door of my room. I need it right about now.
May the sun bring you new energy by day,
may the moon softly restore you by night,
may the rain wash away your worries,
may the breeze blow new strength into your being,
may you walk gently through the world and know
its beauty all the days of your life.
-Apache blessing
(Stonesteps Beach, Encinitas, CA)
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