Wisdom is seeing the world as it really is, while promoting the great potential within each and every one of its inhabitants!
Before the Internet… we had the Yellow Pages
Ode to the Yellow Pages
You will never see, I believe
Something as artfully industrious
And hopeful as pages like these
To work all through the year
Gathering from all who sell product
And services from far and near
Putting it altogether, the offers
The artistry, locations, phone
Numbers of all good proffers
This busy, well done deed
Organized by categories you
Know and should want or need
Believing value will be shown
Proprietors and sellers in faith
Buy their presence to be known
Today these pages are seldom perused
As internet search is all the rage
And books are evermore rarely used
These pieces of yesterday’s industrious art
That raised young boy’s bottoms
And ensured success for excursions before depart
Will now depart the Americana stage
Without nary a bow or applause
For all their fame came in a forgotten age!
… Let your fingers do the walking…
Merry Christmas
Christmas Love
Ah this morning with smiles bright
The tree and gifts arranged just right
With child-like joy our hearts leap
As we brush aside our morning sleep
To find our way around the tree
Somewhat shy about what we’ll see
And hug and hold greetings as we hum
Christmas songs as if we were alum
Of another time and place in our minds
For the child within us, remembers those rhymes
And after all isn’t that what it’s all about
Regardless the gifts we shall gush about
So that our appreciation is shown
And our love for each other known
For the gift is not the present
It is all the love they represent
A Collection of Christmas Poems…
Christmas Imagined
It is the spirit, it is love and care
That joy of Christmas we can share
For a moment a world perfect
Free from discord and defect
Placed in winter clarity of white
Snow as a blanket of beauty right
Colored lights, gifts, decorations red and green
Borrowed from ancients, this spirit of evergreen
A perfect setting for redeeming ourselves
For believing in each other and Santa’s elves
For knowing Angel’s get their wings
When hearts sing and the bell rings
And a child’s birth allows the world to cope
As the child in us smiles with wonder and hope
Everyone regardless of their belief can openly share
Our Christmas miracle, by opening hearts of loving care
Christmas Throughout the Year
I know a happy soul that always whistles a Christmas tune
He whistles just as happily regardless if its December or June
For him Christmas joy is not for a certain time of year
Rather it is an everyday spirit through his whistle we hear
If only Christmas was all the time
Then love and peace would forever shine
It’s not the decorations, the presents under the tree
But our time with friends and family we love to see
If only Christmas was all throughout the year
Then children would never know a single tear
It’s not the stores, the elves and Santa we need
We need the joy and spirit of God’s grace indeed
If only Christmas’ perfect meaning was clear
In our hearts, it must live throughout the year
And if you get a chance, especially in June
I hope you’ll whistle your own joyous Christmas tune!
Christmas Over the Years
Excited I stand there at seven
Tree, lights, toys, it must be heaven
Smiles of wonderment and joy
Anxious to play with a new toy
Soon it’s Christmas morning again
Anxious at twenty-five this man
Will the girls enjoy and be pleased?
Will my wife’s gift be well received?
Waffle maker surprise was not a hit
But the girls brought out smiles, every bit
Then soon its grand-babies Christmas time
Happy faces and smiles, I love this time
I’ll make breakfast and smile, knowing
At fifty-five my gifts are no longer blowing
And Grandma makes sure all is joyous and fine
Maybe, just maybe I’ll make waffles this time!
Christmas Morning
Christmas morning quiet and slow
The clock ticks softly on the mantel
Santa’s work in stockings hang just below
In this hour of quiet solitude of thought
About meanings of His promised peace
So more important than gifts we bought
In a world of turmoil, strife and pain
He was born to bring us joy and peace
It’s time we seek His miracle once again
Be like children in heart, faith and yearn
He taught with a smile not so long ago
See in children’s smiles today and let us learn
I hope to be like a child and see
A world with faith in message of peace
And know how beautiful this world can be
Christmas Beautiful
Christmas tree is up, decorated sparkle and bright
It cops a lean to the left, but shh it’s still beautiful
Decorations everywhere red, green and bright
The third light from left is out, shh it’s still beautiful
Its just turning dark outside, lights timed for night bright
Porch timer ugh, let’s synchronize our times for beautiful
Ready for church dressed nice, everyone looks so right
My tie is not great, but I’ll fix it late, so I too seem beautiful
Presents and gifts, wrapping paper and bows make season bright
Now a mess of paper, boxes, children and child-like smiling faces beautiful
Dinner finally served, everyone helped to make this spread so right
All in joy and happiness, a toast or two or three, and all is beautiful
Evening, quiet seasons music, another toast under tree alight
It leans a little left, and so do I, as we match its Christmas beautiful
From Christmas Eve 1822… a wonderful poem
A Visit from St. Nicholas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
A Network Of Thought
At the risk of too many ideas all in one place…
To become as one with others, gives our ‘I’ an ‘us”, and lives of many to augment the one we were born into, to expand knowledge, thought and the human experience. This thought was part of a question about language.
Specifically, does language spur thought, or is language an outcome of thought? Can you think without putting words to the thought? Possible, if we keep it simple. You can feel things like hunger, as a child does and express it without words. I think you can even reason in a temporary way, but that doesn’t really build memories, because you need words to replay memories, otherwise it is like muscle memory, something that is repeated but not consciously applied. Your mind can recognize patterns, but how do you communicate such memory, how do you share with others?
I think that language acts as an accelerator. With language we become something more than just an I, something more than the imperative of bodily needs and feelings. We have the ability to express and more importantly to learn in the abstract. Meaning we don’t need to experience it to find a way to communicate and internalize knowledge. Written language and oral histories in poetry, song, and art capture ideas, events, and make them part of a collective, tribal, clan, nation, and humankind experience.
Art is a form of language. A picture is worth ten thousand words. We even equate art with the words it would require to communicate it, as if there is an equation of sorts that could be discovered. Math is another means to communicate, and create a memory of something learned, but to apply it properly, we need words.
We experience a vast network made possible because of language. Something that is universally human. In every corner of the world humans developed language. An evolutionary means of survival for sure, but also a means of social expansion. Knowledge, learning, wisdom ensures not just the survival of our species but the advancement to something greater as a whole.
As a contrast to our admiration of rugged individualism, I contend that our social connection to the human network through language, empathy, curiosity and search for knowledge is and should be our priority. Our network of language allows our individual intellect to become part of a community that takes us beyond ourselves. It makes us part of a social and intellectual community with a legacy. Vibrations in this network, some louder, some higher pitched, connecting with thought, and sharing, adding meaning, emphasis, amplification or dampening.
I believe there is possible an even higher-level of connection, we still give words to it, but a telepathic experience will be something of humankind’s future, born out of something even deeper in our souls, deeper in understanding and empathy. Thoughts, feeling, that transcends words that we can hear or see. Something to look forward to the evolution of the network of us. In the present, we will relish the simple joys of a conversation over dinner, or a coffee, as well as the beauty of song and poetry, and stories and writings that moves us.
How Much Energy Does it Take to Be Normal?
Being Normal
All the boxes assiduously receive their check
The cards have been accounted as in the deck
And the rungs have been climbed without a skip
While expending great energy to keep a tight grip
For fear of failure, fear of a stumble and fall
As well as exposure of philosopher and poet’s call
To explore and dream in color and hues at night
To experience dreams of free soaring and flight
Then to awake and calmly check the next box
As normal, never acknowledging that missing sock
That may be driving us crazy deep inside
But we are normal, sort of, on the outside
Now for This Commercial Break..
This week I learned that
Despite recording technology
Despite remote control at our fingertips
Despite the mute button so prevalent
Despite narrowed attention spans
Despite a paucity of curiosity
Despite the Super Bowl is two months away
Despite the proximity of the kitchen
Or maybe because of this proximity
People actually watch commercials
At least enough to get riled up
About a thin woman
…. on a $2,000 stationary bike!
Funny
What Does it All Mean?
No News
Why am I obsessed with the news?
There is nothing good here and very little new
On the front pages, or with these talking heads
And if I read the feel-good news stories
I sigh, because these puppy stories don’t work for me.
Bring me thoughtful prose and in-depth analysis
Of the human condition, and our vessel’s survival
Despite the human condition, of our universe still
Turning toward and out and about without
Our involvement, or more precisely our interference.
Bring me something that is unique and new
Something that is from the soul
That says we have a history and more importantly
A future!
Is it too much to ask, that we should understand
How this all came about, and what it all means?
Funny Thought…
“It would be nice to spend billions on schools and roads, but right now that money is desperately needed for political ads.”
A Prescription of Poetry… Thoughts on an essay from the Wall Street Journal
Poetry in Healthcare
There is a study that is questioning if poetry would be an aide to patients that are in long-term care and having serious illnesses, including some in palliative care (meaning their pain is being managed, as there is no cure option). The evaluation is considering if the strength, hope, memories enhanced by the connection and intended ambiguity of poetry has value in providing means for greater connection and communication. They are evaluating the prospect of overall improvement in patient/doctor relationship. The study is evaluating the time-cost versus the benefits for the patients as well as opportunity to reduce physician burn-out.
My personal belief is that poetry can create a level of personal reflection and introspection that removes a person, at least for a time, out of the trials of the moment, distancing themselves some from pain, enabling a journey inward in a way that few things can. Similar to formal prayers, which is a form of poetry that seeks to find a spiritual link between our inner-self (soul) and God, poetry could improve the understanding, and insight into our inner-self. Exploring the human experience in poetry brings us closer to inner-self that is the inextricable connection of our physical, emotional, phycological-self, as well as our spiritual-selves. Prior to the majority of the population being able to read, poetry in the form of lyrical prayer or hymns were a means to enable spiritual soul introspection whenever and wherever it was needed. The lyrical nature of prayer makes it easier to take it with you. Today, maybe poetry too will provide both some healing value, as well as improved human connection between physician and patient. Or more broadly between patient and caregivers.