the memory of roses - Ti

My romanian aunt would use rose petals to make a jelly - or more something like the gliko toy koutaliou. She was not using just any kind of roses, but a very flavorful kind. I remember the color as mauve-pink but there may be other colors too. The sweet syrup was wonderfully flavorful and the petals squeaked when crushed by the teeth. The jars were stored in old unused brick heater (soba). Not for long cause they were gone after just a couple of 5 o clock coffee visits from her lady friends.
(i wrote this as a comment to Maria's blog, and thought I would keep it as a personal memory, thanks Maria for the occasion).

sharester

there was a time when art was flying freely
circling over the city she was, high in the sky
ready to cross any borders, rivers and oceans
and the children sung as if they had been promised
that they will be forever young

the children were sharing their music and getting curious
because of them the the artists were becoming famous
all over the world, their fame spreading by work of mouth
and mostly by means of web mediated sharing

as an artist I would be very very complemented
if my words wold now fly digitized via web
from node to node, from headphone to headphone,
from brain to brain - my words would spread

i would also probably be rather poor
cause there are no means to track
the happily bouncing digitized art
but then this had been always the case

for the practitioner and creator of art
were mostly poor but protected under the wings
of some rich art lover and patrons
expect that today we have agents and record companies

most shameful of that we have trials
to punish today the grown up children
of the sharester generation
but not enough judges who did not have a part

what is it fair I do not know
I just wish art could fly again from sould to soul
I wish I would be the wing to support art's free flight
with the unconstrained beat of my heart

child at heart

music now -

all his life he wanted to find out who he was
and the quest took so long he had to postpone growing up;
he tried many faces, he tried many voices
he danced between worlds, but he kept his own heart

through his big black eyes, and piercing voice
poured out imaginary creations of better but possible worlds;
golden images gathering love and hope from many years in the past
projected onto small screens were swung by his music
right into the hearts of so many teens
they danced on the streets and they dreamed
music translated in images, and they felt like golden felines
ready to jump on life's back - be it in harmony or conflict

but he had to grow up and this was somehow a sad, long postponed jump
into real life. why would one do it if he still feels
he is a child a heart. not knowing what to do this life's pump
stayed for a while in limbo and then suddenly stopped.

kids poured out on the streets, fit felines ready to shout
they wanted him back, they were ready to fight - but there was no one out,
reality was placid and mute and they only thing they could do
was remember and then somebody realized the best thing to do was to just sing out loud

music poured out on the streets like a river of light
forgiveness was throwing its shade on the asphalt
the chorus of people some old and some young
felt somehow like him - for a while allowing to be children at heart.

tabula rasa

a vacation is for the mind
like a wave is for the beach
an opportunity to get clean
peaceful and open wide
to a world of opportunity.
who knows how many sand dollars
and star fish are left behind
and need to be thrown back in the ocean
by a kid with a pail;
before is too late for them
to get lost for life
paying dearly for the sin
of exploring too much, too far
dangerously ignorant
of the passing of time.
deep down on the dark bottom
of the ocean they are given
another chance to refresh
to resurface if that is
what they really wish

lessons for a kid

If you want to teach a kid a valuable lesson for life what would it be? I try to make up my mind and lots of things come. Still thinking...

- sleep well
- eat healthy
- stay clean (and dry)
- find comfort in doing good things like sport, and being with friends
- do not fear to be alone but do not over do it
- be cheerful, it does not hurt anybody
- walk happily
- attend to live's important events
- be there for your friends when they need you most
- be respectful of others and yourself
- be helpful
- learn whatever you can where you are before you move on and most of all learn to love
- keep your word
- life is precious, you are precious - you are life!

river

between us is a river flowing
sometimes with a serene humming
sometimes growing
out of bounds with nervous growling

it can come rolling stones
and breaking twigs one second
to calm down later sparkling clean
dancing so sweetly you forget it was mean

let's work to tame the river
so it can never hurt, but be forgiving
teach it love and peace so we yearn
for our river to keep flowing.

hope

Hope that the trip will be smooth
that the sun will rise high
and brighten your day today
as in many other days has done

hope that your legs will be strong
to take you far away;
many roads in front of you lay
so you need your shoes to last long

take a friend by the hand
give each other support
if the road get tough and the weather rough
or if you step by mistake on dark land

some light will chose to stay
within your heart at all times
use it when you need it
burn it with care - to feed hope

light will come again
most likely you will be there
to soak it in and if you share it
it will double its value

wallk in beauty

walk your walk in peace
may the winds' harsh blows not touch you,
may the storms not bend you
may you grow tall and strong;

choose to grow in peace,
do not fight imaginary fights
which are not worth the wounds
do not keep deep wounds on your body;

do not keep wounds on your memory
walk in beauty and prepare
to flow into love and shine
get ready to dance for joy in your life.

rest when you need to rest
to keep your balance;
and if you need support call
I will raise from the ground up

to hold your head up
to wipe your forehead clean bright
with my branches; and the strength of your roots
we'll walk in balance

one step at the time
this trip is worth taking
even if you need to go to school for a while
you learn your stride on your own

walk in beauty

sweet magnolias

image from http://www.basdenfamily.com/
at the end of spring, at the budding of summer
it is the time when the air smells sweet
from everywhere you are surrounded
by the aroma of southern magnolias

stately and green they mark the south
with imposing and statures. Graciously
they offer globes of white surprises
as their gift to the coming summer.

they share their shade with growing bunnies,
their branches with aspiring climbers
their skinned knees growing strong
with each run on the lawn, with each climb and each rest
in the shade of sweet magnolias

open your flowers and open your hearts
to the heat of the summer, and the songs of robins!
open your eyes and see the white lights
brought to us today as they were before hundreds of years
from the old good times by the sweet magnolias.

literary start

going, blowing ...Ana makes poems - with rhymes and rhythms!

time

time is what you make of it
that is most of the time;
like - when you call a friend
to drink a coffee al fresco;
and it is clearly not because of the coffee;
like when you climb a mountain
of any sorts and heights
and you do not care how high and far you can get;
like - when you read a story in the night
to a child, surrounded by hugs,
and it does not really matter what the story says;
like - when you listen to your grandmother's stories
that come from the depth of her life,
and snowflakes start falling
from the heaven's highs onto her hairs
and your eyes barely start seeing
what time was and how it changes us.

sometimes choose to sit in silence
by the river of life for a couple of seconds
let the river do the running
and the talking too
and start listening;
and then choose to make time
your friend, and time for your friends
while life is here to be lived
pure and joyful too.

traveller's song

when you take a trip
it is your chance to learn again,
to become a new you
so listen to the life you pass by,
keep your eyes open
and new days will reveal themselves
in colors not seen before
when walking walk in peace with the road
you chose
with the people you meet and try
to speak like them
to walk in their shoes for a while
try to be there
for them to help and to talk to
but mostly to listen.
your world may gently be reborn
if you step out
of yesterday's constricting skin
freedom may start growing
in your mind tomorrow;
perhaps if because you have sat
on the banks
of the ever-changing river of life.

plantation garden

image from tclf.org

http://www.celtic-life.net/galler36.jpg


down south where the summers are steamy,
it is where sweaty hands used to gather
the sticky tobacco leaves,
where rice grew in stratified ponds,
and the cotton bloomed.
it is there where the afternoons
flowed like molasses,
while evenings were headed towards the night
guided by banjo strings;
the rhythms swung the rocker
on the wooden porch
they impregnated the soil
under the swamps
and the herbs danced
never minding the mosquitoes.

if you put your head down onto hard soil
your ear can still hear
yesterday's rhythms.
you can sill feel the love of the lord
who has turned the fruit of the soil
into a beautiful garden
of reverend roses,
camellias and azaleas;
where the oaks shelter
under moving shadows
of spanish moss
long standing statues
and the remains of
those who have passed

dance on the beach

it starts with May when the sun gets high
and the heat sets in; when the sand is bright
and the oceans seem clean, when you ride
the tide on a foamy crest till you need to rest

one morning children start coming
with their plastic shovels, ready to work the sand
to build castles, tunnels and incredible sculptures
and for lunch they'd have sandy patty cakes

a kite will rise high in the sky to signal for all
the beginning of the hot season;
down on the beach a girl with a very wet curl
would dance and her dance aims to catch

the shadow of the kite running
on the very bright sand;
the seagulls' laugh -
cause for them as for us
summer is never enough;
the rolling sounds of shells,
and crumpling of ocean herbs;
while the dance goes on
the crabs run to hide
waiting for the tide;
the ocean itself
does the drumming;
in the background
for just a while
the waves are humming

a week's portrait

dogwood tree
detail

on Monday color my day in dreamy pastel;
on Tuesday pair me some lively colors;
on Wednesday mix them all frantically;
on Thursday try to sort out the meaning
of the painting you should finish by Friday;
on Saturday drink black coffee and break
so you can finish the week with magic
touches on Sunday - and sign it.

rain

rain falls on your head
choose to protect it or be
grateful for the rain

the loop

spring sprouts green shoots up
hungry soil feeds the shoots now
next will be their turn

(soil will feed later)

what are stones for

stones are for being rounded
by water flowing
persistently among them

goal

set your priorities right while life is here to be lived.
there will always be problems to solve, work to be done,
kids who get sick then better, and ready to run
which ones come first is your pick.

some chose a crazy busy life style and since then have tried
hard to do multiple tasks at one time, or at least most of them in a day
while the length of the same day stayed stuck
at 24 hours - no more than that

they got somehow forgetful while doing their best
to keep on track. some have lost objects, some memories,
and some even the idea that life is still here to be lived,
walks are to be walked, while your legs are still strong

meals are to be cooked, souls to be nourished,
love to be shared, hugs to be exchanged, mountains to be climbed,
seas to be tried wave after wave - so many things to be done
while life is still here, strongly desiring to be lived.

can't do them all at once, we have to chose wisely,
we have to stay calm, cause rush is burning the time
we have to just set our priorities right,
while still keeping the right to change them - later.

azaleas and dogwoods

photo Andrea Allison

these are the days when the colors spring
from the azalea bushes
from deep red to white through all hues of pink
to the level of our hearts

they are bursting with joy from expectations
of good weather days
of running and jumping on wide open fields
worry free blessed moments

dogwoods rise higher and calmer offering their
cross shaped flowers
to remind us at Easter time of the suffering
of the purest cross bearer

no Ps allowed

One can read this sign as: no Ps allowed!
how about these: passion, perseverance, progress, peace?

(bicycle) days on the hills

photo credit:Maarten van der Burgt


when times run slower I would use my bicycle
to go to school, to work, pretty much everywhere
on those hills that I used to call home;
on the smooth roads that would lead to a beach
at sunset and the end of a day.
the fields and the bushes, daring bougainvilleas and trees
I learned to know, and even the bees that were visiting these.
the people at the corner store, and the old women
in charge of the house where they were growing their nephews,
I would see from the road going about routine life.
the light and the breeze were my friends, the hills themselves
had become part of me, after many days of living together so close.
the bicycle resembled a horse and all I had to do was
look for the windmills Don Quijote had missed.

Now that I am awake and no longer live within dreams
I still miss the light and the breeze, and the effort
I was able to put in traversing those hills;
I miss their little noises like the the buzz of the bees .
Silent cars have replaced many of the bicycles
my friends and I used on a bumpier street.
I think rushing people have promised themselves more time
to to what they want once they reach their destination at the beach.
On the same road old people still used to walking and talking
head in peace towards the same beach at the end of the day.
As for me I continue to see : less from the seat of my bike
more through the car's window new windmills Don Quijote has missed;
look hard - they're real if you only can see them,
they disappear when you don't think of them.

science fair and feegles

Yesterday was Hope Valley Elementary first Science Fair. Got to view interesting projects, some involving more some less the parents. Liked the project where one whole class had contribued to building a roller coaster. Some projects needed a little "filtration" - like the one on aliens, or the one presenting a Rumba. Overall a great experience and well deserved congratulations to the science teacher and the contributors.
Meanwhile I am introduced fast to the world of the Feegles. Good & fun reading for young girls and boys - from Terry Pratchett.

http://www.playergallery.com/cv.html

rain, rain come again

today the rain came as a friend
to help me clean the deck of pollen.
to spare me the need
to wash the car hybrid;
tonight I hope the rain
she will visit us again
else the carpet of pollen
would have grown to my nose
make it itch and ready to sneeze
with every little bit of a breeze

slow awakening

imagine that you can slow down;
there is no point in rushing by for now
cause time has given you an extra hour
yours to spend the way you want

what would you do, where would you go?
or will you choose to simply stay
where you are now and take your time
to just absorb the joy of the awaking world

you had forgotten it was all around?
the trees, the creek and all the bugs
you thought annoying now notice
they all seem to be a lively world of art.

walk

thoughts come uncalled
when you walk slowly in the park,
tired on the steep mountain path,
or slowly squeaking on the snow.

the higher you climb the lighter you feel
the more tired you get, the more clean
the farther away your steps get
the closer you get to your heart

lentils - a feast of colors

tiny orange pellets,
yellow halves of moons,
tiny brown and greenish discs
are sitting in the pantry shelves;

pulses feed a modest body
through lent and other days;
don't disregard them
these old foods are here to stay;

do not be greedy, but grateful
for the gifts of the earth
for skills in the hands of the cook
and her patience.

links of the day

A day to remember John Hope Franklin!

On scholarship
"The very essence of the life of the mind is the freedom to inquire, to examine, and to criticize. But that freedom has the same restraints abroad that it has at home: to state one's position, if impelled by personal conviction, with clarity, reason, and sobriety, always mindful of the point that the scholar recognizes and tolerates different views that others may hold and that his view is independent, not official."
The American Scholar
1968

"I have never regretted the decision to remain a student and a teacher of history. ...I have been a student and advocate of the view that the exchange of ideas is more healthy and constructive than the exchange of bullets."
Charles Homer Haskins lecture
April 14, 1988

"You can't have a high standard of scholarship without having a high standard of integrity, because the essence of scholarship is truth."
Winston-Salem Journal
Aug. 6, 1989

http://www.duke.edu/johnhopefranklin/index.html

http://www.omnivoracious.com/2009/03/the-old-man-is-dead-john-hope-franklin-19152009.html

thought of the day

Talk to your children, nourish them with good foods, for their tummies and minds; encourage them to be physically active; involve them and make them aware of the world. You can learn with them too, it is your second chance at growing smarter. Keep trying, your efforts should pay back.
- inspired by "Intelligence and how to get it", by Richard Nisbett.

morning song

(thinking of Demmis, Lena and Frank and those who need just a little more light)

with great joy the morning has risen
over the town and the forest alike
nodding their heads daffodils bring thanks
for the coming of spring

may the path lead your feet faster
may you discover bursting hearts on young branches;
may the fresh air bring vigor and health
in harmony let us say grace for this simple wealth.

may you grow stronger today in your body
may you take steps ever more steady
may your mind feel curious and bright
may this teach you to spread around light.

daredevil

who told you
that you could
steal my heart
and wrap it around your fingers,
as if it were a blade of grass?
who taught you to stretch my patience
involve me in all your games;
make me run, sing and
in general do everything
your heart desires.
look at you
you are only four
daredevil you -
know not the meaning
of the word rule.
I am to tell you
that you have a lot to learn
while your giggles tell me that you think
you somehow know
everything.

anchor

photos courtesy of Chris Benton (http://photo.net/photodb/user?user_id=404845)

one day I will find myself
walking at the edge of the sea
on a pebbled beach
swept by the wind of memory

nothing could be cleaner
than the foam of a salty wave
no history of its travels
just the essence of being

present but ephemeral
digesting the joy of the moment
heated by the sun, shadowed by the cloud
nothing more, nothing less but me

no hunger taints the moment
budding is the creation of thoughts,
images of what can be done with bare hands
with clay and paper and colors

mind the rising dreams from the children
anchored in those of their ancestors;
living on the edge of the wave
in nothing but the present

today there is no need for excuse, or apology
no room for mistakes, everything goes
nothing is purer than the salt
on this beach swept by the wind and the sea
(of memory)

spring symphony in two colors on a backround of green

the spring symphony has started violently in yellow
from the bottom up: dandelions, daffodils, forsythias and unknown climbers
try passing their message with a lot of fanfare all the way to my ears:
"we are here triumphing against the cold and the snow"

away I go, it cannot be but the beginning of spring
and you are all out already (that means the mosquito will soon start to sting)
I cannot be convinced that this is how is going to be for all the duration of the spring symphony
but I have to give in under their gentle pressure exerted in harmony

the purple humble crocuses, irises, magnolias are all humming low key
"we are here triumphing against the cold and the snow"
we've pulled aside the winter's curtain of sorrow
our show is full of green joy, tune in - it is our time and our symphony

at day at the Nasher's

a day at the Nasher's museum of art
went out of the ordinary
when the docents took time from their daily routine
to invest in in teaching school children with heart

they made up stories about strange people
living in the Bloomsbury house
their moods and their darings were all discussed;
we concluded they might had feelings - like us.

except it was hard sometimes to distinguish
smile from sorrow, and loneliness
in the crowd gaily cohabiting
in the mansion nest for the art.

we gave names to the paintings,
we gave reasons to feelings
we left home with our hearts budding
artistic expressions of our own beings

passage

the snow has built last night a tunnel through the forest
and covered trees with lace and drapes
it was the winter's way to ease the passage
to let spring come, to say good bye and take a one year rest

On this clean Monday, when spring fasting starts
there's lots of pure white snow to mark the day
snow on pink buds, and snow on lambs,
snow on the hats of children playing out with joy.

quote of the week

"A goal without a plan is a dream" - project management workshop

the mistress of spices

I have met the mistress of spices herself
she was pregnant and happy
and the spices were bouncing on their shelves
to a music of their own in a joyful dance

she had just returned from a trip
around the world
and when she opened the door
of her newly reborn store the spices knew

she had come to stay
to settle around them, spices and dahls
of many colors, incenses and flower petals,
she had returned to them

the joy was great, as was the price to pay
for they - keepers of secrets would have to share
for the better part of the day
their mistress with a baby so pure and so fair.

anniversary

photo belongs to Brant Avondet
Wise things have been said about the passing of time
we acknowledge at anniversaries for most of our lives.
As I age I recall the joy of birthday parties when I was a child
the gathering of friends and opening of presents
the cake with candles happily burning, occasionally dripping
on my favorite chocolate frosting;
and also Mom the best dessert maker,and party organizer ever.

As I grew up and left home I took over the role
my Mom played for so long: the cake building, inviting the friends
placing the candles and counting the years.
As the candle number grew higher, to high to fit them all confortably
on any reasonable cake I plainly stopped making them
in the secret hope that ignoring the yearly event
will make the passing of time ignorable too;
but the years still kept coming, shading a sort of dust which made my hair graying.

I bake cakes again, and enjoy childrens' birthdays
as for the grownups I like to compare them with good aging wines
and there are so many I like to remember.
Some like the ubiquitous retsina
have a bitter feeling about them, like those tired days after which
you want to get fresh again to prepare for tomorrow.
There are white wines from Kefalonia clear like a summer morning,
oily golden ones from Samos, and the thick red wines from Santorini
sweet like a romantic summer evening,
and the perennial favorite the reminder of carnival nights
Mavrodaphne of Achaia - from the hills around the city of Patras.
Wish my friend that there enough days for us to taste
the variety days can have in a lifetime of all sorts of events;
live, drink and enjoy the presence of friends.

monday morning

when morning comes
be ready to start the day
you can choose to endure it
or to really enjoy it.

breath in, breath out
listen to the nature outside
it can help pick a song for your heart
and go on right foot forward.

rise and shine
Monday morning is here
like any new beginning
it can be full of surprise.

invest

Invest in the future
invest in your children
the bearers of the torch
burning the essence of hope;

invest in the joy
they will be bringing
if they grow up right
loving the light.

invest in clear water and foods
they'll drink and eat to get strong;
invest in good books
forming their thoughts

let them build their own future;
but educate them well
so they can take care of this world
and of you - one day when it is their turn

the ballad of the lonely boy

My name is John and I feel lonesome
It's raining out and nobody has time to play with me;
I only have my hands to build, my eyes to read
my feet to run with but I have no company.

I wait for friends to show up at my door
I wait for mom to come from work;
I have some homework on my desk
and can decide from what I have to do what's best

I have to lift myself from this sad mood
I start to count by lifting up a finger:
Mom she calls me "my good boy", she says I am hers;
that is not really true because - on the count of two
I realize my father says I'm his too.
I also have two grandmothers and a grandfather,
a godtmother, a good cousin, a couple aunts and uncles
that all say they love me so.

They are my family and they are many;
although they may not live close by
they all say that I'm theirs and love me so;
and when I think of them my soul gets warm.

if one could figure out today a way
to turn love into heat we are so many
in this family that we could keep tho whole world warm;
until then I think I am not lonesome after all.

needs/wants/dreams

what do we need today?

perhaps to forget about greed

and to remember the joys of simple lives;

perhaps we need to remember the times

of our grand fathers, when time used to run slower,

kids had fewer toys but more time with their mothers.

we still need to work on solving our conflicts

and learning to love our neighbors

even if they are different.

we still need hope and faith

and to search for a good direction of thoughts

and a coffee table or two at the edge of the street

 to allow for public debates.

do I really need perfect fruits even if they poison the kids?

do I really need fast growing chicks, cows or pigs;

are they not allowed to grow at their own pace any more

because of our greed?

do I really need 10 pairs of pants, and a shiny new car?

perhaps, but give me a friend to talk and think with 

in my free time I spend  around of the coffee tables

that line our street. 

give me time so I can take a trip 

and see other people 

and feel their needs

my boat needs to go 

my brain wants to see

my heart needs to dream

of people, places and rules

that allow for healthy simplicity.

pink buds

One of the wonders of the world

descended right from heaven onto mother earth

she smiled and from her smile were born

pink buds onto the trees who line the street

this  january in medium cold Durham,  NC.

The spring like air I breath and both my lungs 

expand with joy anticipating sunny spring

but winter's here and snow has fallen.

the pink buds blush at their mistake

cause they were born one month or two too soon

and thus gave us an unexpected winter break.

hope and virtue

"Hope and virtue" : keywords from the presidential inauguration discourse.
How does my memory compare with the computer generated analysis of the discourse?

prayer

photo courtesy of David Orias: photo.net/photos/orias
I pray that the skies will clear out
light will win against dark;
hope will grow
green shoots from healthy soil;
logic will prevail
love will stay strong, and patience
will heal;
while memory will preserve best
the sweet aspects of life.

poem of the day

Hope; An Owner’s Manual
By Barbara Kingsolver

Look, you might as well know, this thing
is going to take endless repair: rubber bands,
crazy glue, tapioca, the square of the hypotenuse.
Nineteenth century novels. Heartstrings, sunrise:
all of these are useful. Also, feathers.

To keep it humming, sometimes you have to stand
on an incline, where everything looks possible;
on the line you drew yourself. Or in
the grocery line, making faces at a toddler
secretly, over his mother’s shoulder.

You might have to pop the clutch and run
past all the evidence. Past everyone who is
laughing or praying for you. Definitely you don’t
want to go directly to jail, but still, here you go,
passing time, passing strange. Don’t pass this up.

In the worst of times, you will have to pass it off.
Park it and fly by the seat of your pants. With nothing
in the bank, you’ll still want to take the express.
Tiptoe past the dogs of the apocalypse that are sleeping
in the shade of your future. Pay at the window.
Pass your hope like a bad check.

importance

some people look important and rush
about their business
some people sit back and relax
at the same times;
who's right, who's wrong
I do not know;
there is a time for everything
if you try hard enough
probably;
keeping the balance
between important matters
urgent ones
and loved ones
matters
most

the sacrifice of the mosquito detective

for very low pay
but much fun through the day
the mosquito detective
worked for the police in his special way

this morning you see
while still being sleepy
he smelled the warm blood
of a car thief starting his fraud

the thief having closed the door
the detective was left in the situation
to postpone his attack
until he had finished his act

because of his size
arresting the thief was not on his list
he used however a much more advanced
while still classical technique

the mosquito detective
bit the arm of the criminal
then gave out to sample of blood
for DNA tests - and with this his life

the human police investigator
followed with the genetic analysis to unveil the identity
of the suspect, and subsequently
honored the sacrifice of their formerly buzzing collaborator

time

time is what we have in our hands
to do what is important
for today as well as tomorrow;
the treasure within reach
how will you invest it today?

you can spend it with your friends,
parents and dear kids;
you can spend it learning
or relaxing on a beach
time is still within reach.

if today were to be
a unique gift given to me
I'd need to think
where would I rather be
what would I do differently?

love

Love this world for it is the world of your children.

prayer

in this cold and rather gray winter day
for love and patience and light I pray;
for the power and inspiration
to ask meaningful questions

I pray for the enthusiasm to get up
and help others get up and heal after a fall;
for the awaited calm after the storm
for hope and the power to keep a home warm;

I pray for strength and resilience
on battlefields of the mind when we try to bring change;
but also for forgiveness and acceptance
for dreams that can take us one step beyond revenge

into a world of peace and harmony
we shall live as brothers and sisters;
distances shall not matter
because love can sail us over any amount of water

butterfly migration

they were born at a time
when the world was aching
with pains imposed by old rules;
invisible chains were limiting dreams;
silence was a golden treasure
and words were to be shared
between trusted friends only.

they grew as the chains were breaking
they were the ones in which hope was budding;
and the old wise ones looked at them in wonder
and pushed them gently to fly out of the box
right at the time of the equinox
when night was to turn into day
and day was gonna stay longer with them

there were larvae into magical boxes
waiting to turn into beautifully winged butterflies
and they were told they had to fly
even if they themselves will not make it to the edge of the sun
the group and surely their babies will make it
the chain - they broke it!

Fanny Giraffe

- this one for a Banana-

Fanny Giraffe was a tall girl
with a long neck
and a dog for a friend
by his name Townsend

Fanny easily gets hungry
so she lengthens her neck
to grab some leaves
from the zoo trees

she bumps into a squirrel
with her soft muzzle
apologize and then goofs again
bothering her ear while munching on the leaves.

so much about manners
protests the squirels
while Fanny Giraffe burps and leaves the branch,
which snaps just as the squirrels start running for their life

Fanny then remembers about her little friend
who startled by the argument
had found shelter right behind her front legs
where Fanny cannot see since she cannot bent

where is her friend hiding?
look him up for me!
he came out yapping asking her attention
will you play with me?

hands

when times are tough
laugh needs not be rare
when times are tough
we need kindness everywhere

this is when I see hands
helping hands reaching out
helping kids stand
for themselves and move forward

this is when you need to share
think of others as your friends
how can you help them
this is your problem.

snow

photo courtesy of Kasper Rehnman

it happens as the angles shake their wings
when dusting them,
it often happens when the night maid sings
as she is combing her long hair

it happens when grandma's chicken are so happy
that they jump high in the sky
and then their feathers fall back down
lying a blanket on the ground

it happens mostly when the winter comes
and sometimes late in fall
and if it happens even after lambs are born
then we're ready to say good-bye snow.

Quote of the day

Don't give up, cause you have friends!
Peter Gabriel

the days of the yellow ginkgo

it is now when the days of the yellow ginkgo are here
it is now that we must open our eyes and feel
the last golden lights caressing the eyelids
the warmth from the red heat stored in the leaves;

before they fall, before winter and the possible snow
it is now that we live, laugh and learn
from the bugs, from the trees and the rivers
from the love we receive from others,

it is now we exchange little gestures
like the shaking of hands, and he twinkling of eyes
it is now that we must ban sorrows and be strong
and blessed in the golden days of the ginkgo.

beginning

Wake up and open the window
to let the fresh air come in
take a deep breath cause we're gonna begin
a new life despite how hard the winds blow

Now

Love when things happen
when one hour is not like another;
when without conscious effort
you immerse yourself in the passing of time;
when what you do
matters and not just for you;
when you add value to the minute you live
by being there, in the NOW simply active

selma

http://news.duke.edu/2008/10/harvestofblossoms.html

selma was herself a flower
about to bloom like any other
but in her times the lives of many men
were rather short
and not all had
the chance to bloom
as nature meant.
she planned her blooming
with a pen on paper
writing what life would be like
what it was like, and where
her dreams would take her
if they could grow wings;
and very far indeed they took her.
today we've learned abut her joyful soul
selma's who would have been a grandma now
is young, and fresh as her poems' lines
have kept her
flying brave on the wings
of her very own dreams.

(Selma was born in the city where one of the greatest romanian poets Mihai Eminescu went to School - Cernauti)

mind

mind your own business
and mind the presence of others
be a part of their day
and guide them if they go astray

take care of the youngsters
and steer them to the straight old paths
or let them walk on a new one
but warn them if they risk to get bitten

talk to your friends
and talk to your neighbors
be aware that you are not really alone
but part of the whole

if the hand hurts, the arm suffers
if the foot it strong, the leg follows
we all are at times parts of one mechanism
we want rolling wholesome

when lonely times come think
about good deeds others have done onto us,
and how we touched -carefully,
the life of others - near us and strangers

quote of the day

and in the silent, sometimes hardly moving times
when something is coming near,
I want to be with those who know secret things
or else alone.
. . .
. . . I want to unfold.
I don't want to stay folded anywhere,
because where I am folded, there I am a lie.

- Rainer Maria Rilke

gray

love old people who have good memories of the past
even if it simply because they tender to you filtered events
they preserved in their memory's sieve
as the few golden sand grains of their times

love their gray hairs for it means wisdom earned hardly
under many sunshined and an equal number of rainy days;
loved their tired legs for they have walked up and down many paths
and many a days they held their children lovingly by their hands

without their images they bring to us from the past
how would we now know where today stands;
how would we trust that tomorrow will come for most of us
no matter what were the events we've seen on the news

no matter how many mistakes, no matter how many victories
there are things that can tip the balance
and we have to accept them and start walking right
towards the future they have promised to us, most of us

so better hold hands, better make friends
and kiss the old man sweetly and ask for their stories
get better for the sake of tomorrow
when you will be the gray haired ones.

quote of the day

"when hatred with its package comes
you forbid delivery!"
L Cohen

orange

image from altese.blogspot.com, courtesy of chickpea

I am gonna wear a happy color today
it may be orange
I am gonna sing
a cheerful song as if it always were spring

I am gonna climb like a monkey
on the highest tree
I am gonna be
as happy as an orange dressed woman can be

I am gonna give thanks for all presents
life gave me
for the chance I can take
and dance till I get out of my limited self
(and dance till I am free of my limited self)

growing up

how comes the older I get
the smaller I feel?
as fast and as strong as I am
I cannot get faster than light?

and what would happen
if however I could
run as fast as light does
can you please explain?

the more I think the less I seem to know
but my brain does grow
in every possible way
if I train it well everyday

perhaps it is since I've learned
that the world is so big
we don't know its limit
that I want to be able to push it.

One thing or two
I still want from you
and eternal supply of hugs
and kiss when you tuck me in bed

blogs

blogs are like houses
with open windows;
some let you look out
and open your eyes to the world;
and some have you whirled
into a self centered hangout

somebody asked

image from ToniGCappel.com
somebody asked
how can so much love
live in such a little room
clean and airy as it is?

and he moved in
a bigger house, accompanied
by the aroma of red flowers
from the little house's windows

stormy questions to Tilly Ipswitch

how does it feel?
to storm over the seas
tormenting the waves
who sing to the moon

how does it feel riding a broom
with a cat behind your back
shrieking a tune
at Halloween?

how would it feel pumpkin
to share your light in the night
sweeten your mind
cause it's all right

ascent

(this one to CTB and AAI)

this mountain I climbed
with no horizon in sight
under a ceiling of clouds
just because you held my hand

one step after another
on a path none that I know
ever tried - being afraid it was
to steep to enjoy - so why bother

little leaps we took
on white rocks
humid with sweat
while we were burning with thirst

I was getting ready
to complain about the pain
building in my body
as it was growing stronger

when we started to see flowers
confronting the wind
with a giggle; tiny shrubs
creeping close and stable to the ground

little creatures we did see
living their live joyfully
under a sky with brave vultures
waiting for pray

if this is the way they live;
we might as well
allow ourselves all the elation
brought by thin air

once we get above the clouds
we'll calmly breath and take in
the view of the sky, and the valley,
and wondrous things the trip has taught us

bitter sea

and why should I
love you bitter sea
when all you give back
in return for the memory
I slowly build in the sand
at your feet is a quick wash
with the wave of your hand;

perhaps you stay
beautiful always
cause you have no memory
no passion, but just enough salt
to keep the rest of us thirsty
and forgive you for the days
when you are angry and mad

heroic waltz

to my many boo booed heroes
a boo boo, a bruise and a scratch
on my leg, on my hand
on my head which looks like
and egg ready to hatch

a booo boo, a bruise and a scratch
have found their way on my tummy,
the only place I though safe
from their horrible army

the hands ..it must be the trees
I was climbing with my friend Elise
the legs ... the balls I was trying to get
from under the car of our vet

but the tummy?
mine was dedicated to things that are yummy
and now it displays
the wounds from mysterious falls

there is no place on my body
without a sign to show
what a brave child I am
there's no soap to erase them

no matter how hard I try
the heroic marks are here to stay
with me for the week so I better learn how to dance
with a boo boo, a bruise and a scratch

hey mom I have found
(and I am happy to say)
there a clean spot on my back
now can I go out and play?

last night's storm

the unnamed storm has swept
the neighborhood
last night
and many trees have shed
their leaves
outright.

the kids came out this morning
gay and bright
they run
to catch the school bus
in their colored jackets
fast;

and as their shoes are stomping
in the puddles
and they splash,
their memories of the scare last night
will be dissolved in a brief discussion
by the traffic light

dance

the night is young
and they just learn to dance
as a pair to keep their balance
they are full of excitement
and sometimes fear failure
which makes them take careful steps
on a dance floor made of thin ice;

slowly their steps get smoother,
they seem to glide longer
their heart beats by no means softer
they are as beautiful
as intersecting comets on the night sky
till it dawns on them the dance is over
and they seal the magic with a bow to each other

dog tale

My dog is a mixed breed
a combination
between a poodle and a pig;
he has a fascination
with puddles
and ditches, cables and switches
and all little toys
he can fit in his mouth;
he's chewing on shoes
and he's chewing on books
he likes socks whether paired
or mismatched
and then to be forgiven
for all this sinful chewing
he'd steal a toothbrush
and use it intensely
to erase any marks
from his sparkling white teeth,
the sweet son of a pig!

image matters -draft

I am gonna pay you
and you should make me look good
cause I have learned
how image matters these days
to most folks
and you better work well
while your friend here
will build a foundation
to support a monument
to my perfect ego
of tomorrow.
do not worry about yourself
good man
I have though about you too
I will write your name
on the monument
you build for all of us,
for which I had the vision
and the means to bring it to life
and keep it
dancing
on the line of flotation
(will call it today
as a promise for tomorow).

SM post

I read a forum on selective mutism and found these interesting poems that let us glimpse inside a rich but different world. How can we reach inside and touch with warmth and give confidence?

(by rainbow)


1.
If i could talk
I would
If i wanted to
I should.

But i cant.

It's just not that
Simple.
Its not that
Easy.

I'd shout and shout
But no words would come out.

Why cant they see?
What is wrong with me?

2.
My world just aint the same
As those who can say a name.
I'm different
But nobody knows
Just how hard it is...

I want to speak like you
But you just aint got a clue.

The words are stuck.
There's no escape.
I scream, I scream
But
No sound i make.
It's true...
...I want to be like you.

3.
I'm happy being me
I cant talk
But i can see
What its like
For those like me.

Give us time
Dont shout
Just wait to see
What we're all about.

4.
Dont shout
Because we cant talk.
You wouldnt push those
Who cannot walk.

Just because you cannot see
What exactly is wrong with me.

Give me time
Give me a chance
Maybe one day
I will sing and dance...

love (again?)

love is at times
a river flowing;
sometimes
an ocean roaring;

a mountain to climb
an unavoidable valley;
a trip to make
a rest you need

on the trail you take
wherever you are headed
make sure that you walk
in harmony

among yourselves,
and the greater forest
make patience
build trust

give
forgive
dream
with the chose one

love is what you make of it
and you better take care
cause you are yourselves
part of it

spice world (working on it)

we live in a flavorful world
a mysterious world of spices
small but powerful,
tiny but able to leave memories
on a beach of bland foods
for our own tastebuds
and those of unexpected visitors
at the dinner table

I am trying to harness my dog
with the power of spices;
he just got his share
of black pepper on objects
he is not supposed to chew.
when have you though last
of the repressive powers of
spices? well trainers do :)

crooked haiku

the boss is always right
(or he just might)
I need some gin and tonic in the night
so I can write! write! write!

at the end of the day

and where is your heart my dear today
have you left it somewhere on the road,
between trains, or at the last bus stop,
mixed up by the business of the day?

and where do your dreams project
the facts of the day? did you make any plans
do you still think where you would like to go
if tomorrow will come?

are you perhaps tired today
of your daily races and would like to breath
slowly with a friend at the end of the day
telling each other stories of no matter what

for the simple joy of sharing time and mind?
would you like to wrap your arms around
me and I will support your dreams with my trunk?
We will grow together greener and higher

under the sun
will have to relearn to reflect
warmth and candor
and learn to listen to the pulse of today

summer rain

it is one of these last days of summer

when the balance did not tilt yet in the favor of fall

when the sun caresses the kids hair

and turns it for a minute to gold

it is one of these days when grapes taste best

when the smell of rotten fruit has nothing unhealthy about it

when melons still roll through the garden

in search for the joy of one more day of vacation.

it is one of these weeks when if it rains

the kids have no fear but instead want to feel it

they have no desire to get into the house 

and perhaps watch cartoons;

it is one of these days when teenagers

are busy adding a whole inch to their height;

one of these days when their bodies fill up

with warmth and energy to last them enough

through fall and at least some of winter

it is one of these magic seasons

when it's raining babies

around the neighborhood

and they all come out with their sun hats on

and their parent carry them with joy

on their breast, in their arms

in a parade of new life 

in a declaration of love

and strength - cause they have the power

to carry all

for all the trip's length

and through all seasons ahead

so help them God! 

quote of the day

"sometimes I think we're not real
we are just (playing a part) in God's dream" AKB

chess song

men maybe pawns
but they have brains of their owns
beware they can change
the rules of the game
they need to know
in their minds
that their king makes
the right moves
or else they may choose
to leave the board
and let the king
and maybe their queen
dance alone
to their tune

advice of the decade

- for a scholar-

"read (the literature) for two hours a day"
PTF

comment:
reading is still work, work that makes you grow, and you do not want to stay in place!

metro news or the good old boys

this one to the peaceful writers of our own Durham local placeblogs

where are the days
when the good old boys
who worked for the newspaper
where there all day long
and most of the night
sipping their beer and telling a tale
waiting for the next big thing to happen
while they were there.

where are the local old boys
proud to be dressed in gray suits
and dusty fast shoes
are they still waiting
by the phone, at the pub?

have they been replaced
perhaps because their rides home
took a little longer everyday
as the city grew larger;
perhaps because they were one day allowed
to start a family
and lingering at the pub
suddenly did not seem as tempting
as it used to;
or maybe because
somewhere far away
a non local guy bends hard everyday
and looks to understand what happened
in their corner of the world
and then writes a story
much cheaper.


they may have changed out of their suits
but they are still here on the field
the writers and makers of news,
our daring brothers
in sneakers and boots,
in sunshine and storms
they can say good bye to the past
and in with the news!

the forgiving plant

this one for Maria, who can write poems about food and prose about other important aspects of life

Basil
the emperor herb
spreads generously
aroma when touched

basil
too proud to ask
for much care
shines in the sun as much as it can

basil
when left unattended
in the scorcher heat
wrinkles and wilts

basil
will never complain
(in fact it is but a plant)
and will try to survive for as long as it can

basil
when finally remembered
and throughly watered
will come back to life with majestic power

when watered
and appreciated
will reward you with its wonderful smell
(and let you make good pesto as well)

disregarding

disregarding
the fact that is summer
sunny and 90 degrees in the shade
we dress with long sleeved shirts
hard pressed collars
heels and black pants.
because today it looks good
and it makes us look cool.
all it takes is turning the AC on.

we've learned to make our day
relatively comfortable.
who cares if outside
of our little enclave
the world burns a little bit faster
the river flows
a little bit slower
the ice melts a little bit faster
and seasons have forgotten
how to time their rule.
maybe, if given another chance
our kids will.

the poem

she loves poems
and she requests
to hear one every day
it has to have rhymes
and an image
to dance with it.

she loves poems
but they should be
always the same
- one of those who became
a good friends of hers;
one of those who she knows rather well

it takes time
to befriend truly and deeply
a new poem
and you know by now
that she is not
the kind who falls in love easily

tea

I suggest
you share
a cup of green tea
with a friend

sweeten it
with a cookie
made by your friend's
hands; or yours

relax
this day shall pass
good or bad
as others have

what you have
is this cup of tea
and the option to stirr it
gently

the way you want it
elegantly
if you will only relax
it is 'bout tea

heat

photo courtesy Melinama - http://pratie.blogspot.com/
this one for River Dave and Josie

a day on the Eno
we passed
where the river talks
his stories in a low voice
under the elm trees
where the river goes
in invisible swirls up to the sky
because it evaporates
while we somehow manage
to gently slide our boats
on its mirror like surface.
is it still water or is it still running?
almost effortlessly the grass sweats
blue sweat
while the strings play
along side a tuba
old music of the Carolina.

now that is monday and cloudy
we wait for another day
to go on the Eno
even if the newspapers say
it's gonna be cloudy we know
it might well be cloudy
with a chance of rainbow

sweet love

her love is so sweet
if you only could get
enough of it
sometimes it feels
like there is
more need for it
for her being sweet
so sweet

song of the day - summertime (lyrics- DuBose Heyward and Ira Gershwin; music -G. Gershwin)

Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry

One of these mornings
You're going to rise up singing
Then you'll spread your wings
And you'll take to the sky

But till that morning
There's a'nothing can harm you
With daddy and mamma standing by

Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry

summer days, water days

these are the days
when the kids move swiftly
from one stage to another
as they jump in the middle of summer

these are the days
when they still give their parents
kisses and hugs
without being afraid of their peers

these are the days when
light lingers longer and sleep
does not want to come to the eyes
cause it must be afraid of the heat

these are the days of splashes
and swimming fins
and floats and other sorts of devices
to keep them afloat

until they have really learned to swim
until they have grown wings
and the will to go away from home
and learn on their own

these are the days to cherish
and write about in our diaries of love,
save their pictures in albums of photos
and put into songs

Cape Hatteras

image courtesy of NASA
http://eol.jsc.nasa.gov/sseop/EFS/photoinfo.pl?PHOTO=STS034-83-69

We're back from the wonderful place of sand and water called Outer Banks. Such a fragile territory, such a powerful ocean and weather. We learned about the brave men of the sea - and some of their challenges and loneliness. We learned about the value of lighthouses and climbed to the top of the tallest brick lighthouse - Hatteras.
We learned about the wind that helped give wings to the Wright brothers.
We flew kites.
But mostly we enjoyed the waves and the sand.

"STS034-83-69 Cape Hatteras, North Carolina, U.S.A. October 1989
The famous barrier island coast of Cape Hatteras, is visible in this near vertical of the North Carolina coast. This barrier island system is protected as the Cape Hatteras National Seashore, with Pamlico Sound to the west and the Atlantic Ocean to the east. A plume of sediment, visible off of the tip of Cape Hatteras, creates a light blue color in the Atlantic Ocean waters. This outflow is from the precipitation runoff of Hurricane Hugo (Sept. 1989) which was still evident during the STS-34 mission (Oct. 1989). This same delayed or extended runoff phenomenon was also very marked along the periphery of the Yucatan Peninsula following Hurricane Gilbert in 1988."

symbiosis

we've build our city in the forest

because we thought we love it;

now we're cutting down the trees

because we're growing

we live with the ever thinning impression

of a forest, and one should ask:

are we trying hard enough 

to keep it from disappearing in ashes at dusk?

kid quotes

I love it on the balance bean!
Let's take the alligator.
you have to say CUCUMBEARRRS!
Ana

float

today the river will flow
effortlessly
to the sound of the wind
in the trees;

today the light will shine
calmly
on the foreheads of those
who look at the sky;

today you can float
worry free
on the river of life
and let your heart shine

because baby today
your family and your friends
lend you their wings
and their fins to keep you afloat
I will keep watch carefully.
lovingly and I know
that tomorrow
you will learn to swim
gracefully in this river
of everyday's life;


anybody can
push you in the water
nobody really can
teach you how to swim
but we will cheer
send you tips
lots of information
you would have never asked for
and you will find in yourself
the skills that you need
and grow
strong and young
in the shade of old trees
ready to cut through them
to get out into the light
while the river flows
as always
effortlessly
to the sound of the wind
in the trees.

quote of the day

"I love you more than math and apple pie!"
my son's message for mother's day

the forgiving song

happy birthday to Ty
who nibbled on my pie;
happy birthday to Lila
who drank my vanilla;
happy birthday to Lucy
who drank my juicy;
happy birthday to Bob
who stole my lollipop!

I am happy today
and I am gonna forgive you all
not gonna feel small
cause it is my birthday
and I wish it was the same everyday!