Saturday, July 31, 2010

Or not

By John Engman

    I wanted to be a rain salesman,
because rain makes the flowers grow,
but because of certain diversions and exhaustions,
certain limitations and refusals and runnings low,
because of chills and pressures, shaky prisms, big blows,
and apes climbing down from banana trees, and dinosaurs
weeping openly by glacial shores, and sunlight warming
the backsides of Adam and Eve in Eden...
                                        I am paid
to make the screen of my computer glow, radioactive
leakage bearing the song of the smart money muse:
this little bleep went to market, this little clunk has none.

    The woman who works the cubicle beside me has pretty knees
and smells of wild blossoms, but I am paid to work
my fingers up and down the keys, an almost sexy rhythm,
king of the chimpanzees picking fleas from his beloved.
I wanted to be a rain salesman , but that's a memory
I keep returning to my childhood for minor repairs:
the green sky cracking, then rain, and after,
those flowers growing faster than I can name them,
those flowers that fix me and and make me stare.

    I wanted to be a rain salesman,
carrying my satchel full of rain from door to door,
selling thunder, selling the way air feels after a downpour,
but there were no openings in the rain department,
and so they left me dying behind this desk-adding bleeps,
subtracting clunks-and I would give a bowl of wild blossoms,
some rain, and two shakes of my fist at the sky to be living.
Above my desk, lounging in a bed of brushstroke flowers,
a woman beckons from my cheap Modigliani print, and I know
by the way she gazes that she sees something beautiful
in me. She has green eyes. I am paid to ignore her.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Baby bird

Came across this blog today and the quote at the top is appropriate for my life today.

"Beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts most." ~Hope Floats

I had a dream last night that I drove by an orphan baby on a gravel road with flies on its nose and face.  Thankfully, I screeched to a halt and with bear-like aggression in my eyes, I warded off the predators with my innate fierceness to protect the vulnerable. 

There are so many vulnerable children in our world.  
This woman is doing something about it.

Then I woke up.  I took the dogs outside and they killed a baby bird.  Intestines hanging out and everything.  I had to shovel it up and throw it over the fence in the burial grounds.  But first, I had to stand-by and watch it die. It couldn't come quick enough.

In regard to the quote above, I have to remind myself of the hope that God gives, which does not disappoint (Romans 5:5).  He is our Alpha and our Omega.  Beginning and our end.  The creation named, Delissa, is snug in the middle of that.  Potter's clay.  Being worked into glory.  Lord, be pleased to quicken me.  Be pleased to stand by and watch me fade away.  Be pleased to watch me die to self.  This baby bird wants to fly.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Sunday, July 25, 2010


Saturday, July 24, 2010


Update:  I got Bird!!  He snapped his fingers when he realized what had happened.  haha

Pun Nation

Ok, I found it impossible to resist.  Here goes...

My Bonnie lies over the ocean
My Bonnie lies over the sea

Is there a soul out there that I beat to that?  Didn't think so.

piano e forte "soft and loud".....He whispers

So I was tooling around town with my li'l sis from Big Brothers, Big Sisters (plug:  do it!) yesterday and we decided to stop into the local mart of many good thrifts.  

But, before that, ALL morning I had wonderful memories traipsing through my head of piano this and that.   Stale memories, and a tickle of those to come, swung freely from consciousness in the cognitive outfield of my mind.  

Who can live without a piano?  The idea struck me in May on the way home from Memphis.  The excitement of a forgotten family piano nestled in a dusty over-sized nook was short-lived.  It took one phoner to kill that pipe-dream.  Ha!  Good luck there.  I did learn that my prized grandma played by ear, though.  So how cool is that?  Anyhoo, I knew I couldn't afford one, so I shelved the idea for a while. 

Then, on earth does someone stumble across this at the local thrift store, compliments of ol' lady Smith upgrading hers! 

My exposure to the piano is limited, besides my stint in grade school with the gifted and talented program (oh yes, I was!).  But it's going to take more than the daunting task of moving a 500lb musical pachyderm across the city to stop me.   

 I got myself a new instrument yesterday.  Sa-weet music to my elephant ears! 

Now my little man, Memphis, has more to howl at than my singing.
Mary Had a Little Lamb, anyone?  


Thursday, July 22, 2010

America's got talent...oh yes She does!

un) I don't know but I've been told, big-legged woman ain't got no soul.

deux) My Peace
~Woody Guthrie~

My peace my peace is all I’ve got that I can give to you
My peace is all I ever had that’s all I ever knew
I give my peace to green and black and red and white and blue
My peace my peace is all I’ve got that I can give to you

My peace, my peace is all I’ve got and all I've ever known
My peace is worth a thousand times more than anything I own
I pass my peace around and about ‘cross hands of every hue;
I guess my peace is justa ‘bout all I’ve got to give to you

trois) B.C.> and on an entirely ever still interesting note...Psalm 143

luvluv d-lish

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