The Thirsty Muse

What's Still True, Though Much Went Wrong

2008-06-20T15:01:00.000-07:00

I'm leaving the content of this post blank intentionally, and ask that you consider its title and what it means to you.

I would be pleased if you were to use the comments function at the bottom of the post to write what for you is still true, though much went wrong.

Leanderthal, Lighthouse Keeper

On Expressing Feelings, or at Least Thanks

2008-04-18T16:50:00.000-07:00

We need not be troubled by expressing our feelings,
So inherent to the human condition.
When used for good they have most ulnique powers;
Provide balance to thinking, an important addition.

There's more to wisdom than critical thinking.
Consider how feelings can play a role.
So long as they're shared authentically,
They often contribute to healing the soul.

We sometimes have need to exporess our love,
Though our words can be awkward and few;
Especially when we remember the past,
When feelings were raw, and little seemd true.

Try "thanks" to those who helped us get through.
In most of our life times that group is quite small.
But they are the ones who never withdrew,
And were there for us to soften the fall.

Children of Loss

2008-03-26T15:57:00.000-07:00

No matter how much mates might suffer from loss
There often are others involved.
And when they're the children who helplessly watched
We soon learn that just one thing's resolved.

When the loss which they suffer is parents divorce
Depression sets in straightaway.
And the day that the judge grants the final decree
Is the start of more hell to pay.

No matter they know how the breach came about,
No matter what side they might take,
They did not sign up for the heart rending loss
Of their family, their lives, for God's sake.

It can take many years for those deep wounds to heal,
And each one must do it alone.
It's crucial to know that and give them the time
To forgive, perhaps never condone.

They might want connections with each of their parents;
Confused how to do that, move on.
Stay close to them, talk to them, write to them often,
Though knowing they might never respond.

On Storms and Calms

2008-03-22T17:02:00.000-07:00

What about storms,
The word which connotes extremes;
Conditions in which we are challenged
To survive, sometimes beyond our means?

And what about Calms,
The word which connotes peace;
Conditions in which we relax,
And pray it will stay that way - please?

But what about calms before storms;
And what about calms after storms?
Do we need both calms and storms;
Are there any such things as norms?

If we had all our druthers and wishes
Do we really want all peace and quiet?
Or do we need both calms and storms
To energize us, and not die yet?

A Metaphor for Partners

2008-03-22T16:57:00.000-07:00

Two tall trees of different species
Growing side by side
Each with its own healthy root system
Meshing in the branches.

On Clouds

2008-03-22T16:30:00.000-07:00

We all know what they are made of,
But tonight I learned bit more
From clouds about what I am made of,
As their shapes changed up on sky's floor.

I saw a disfigured face
And thought, it that possibly God?
When we think of Him in our image
Does He need to be perfect in bod?

Then my mind saw a beautiful woman,
So clear in her eyes and mouth.
Then the cloud changed of course, once again,
And part of her face had gone south.

And so what do we wish for and why,
When we inspect what's on other's neat shelves?
Can we ever accept imperfections,
Since they're clearly a part of ourselves?

Fantasy and Reality

2008-03-20T17:58:00.000-07:00

It has been for a long time,
In the first part of life,
That fantasy was more
Attractive than Reality,

Though somehow knowing
It was not the whole of me.

I'll try to forgive myself for that,
When reality provoked in me a spat.

In the second part of life
I will try on reality's hat.

Nature and Us

2008-03-11T14:52:00.000-07:00

Are we villains with no place
In Nature's world, quite out of grace?
We're inclined to want control;
Have other species pay a toll.

But our species is a part of this,
Result of Nature's contra kiss.
Should we condemn ourselves and pray;
Or is it not our lot to say?

We're prone to this when we've screwed up,
Feel unworthy, gulp the hemlock cup.
Can we let go of our way;
Forsake our goals; ask Nature's way?

Perhaps humility's the thing:
Ask what Nature has to bring.
The answer is, I might confess,
That Nature's here. She'll fix the mess.

Mother Nature doesn't care
That we messed it up , She'll still repair.
She'll work it out, time's no constraint;
She's just amused we'd want to taint,

Try to control. subject our world,
As is we're gods outside the fold.
We're only one part of this mess.
Which, in time, Nature will redress.

Introduction

2008-03-07T14:25:00.000-08:00

I've long thought that the pendulum is an apt symbol for life, how it describes, perhaps mockingly mimics, the swingings back and forth in life; feeling and thinking, losses and winnings, endings and beginnings, joys and sorrows.

Kay Redfield Jamison expresses it well: "We have then, within ourselves, the capacity for extremes that will serve us well on occasion and badly on others. These extremes encompass not only rage and aggression but sadness and ecstasy, inertia and frenzied states, dullness and exploration....". (Night Falls Fast, Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 1999, 178.)

I have considered my own experiences and those of others and express them here. The messages of my poems, and the writings of others included, reflect unsettled feelings. I hope by reading them you will gain and understanding of a process through which all humans go when trying to come to grips with loss and perhaps take heart that you are not alone when misfortune comes your way.

Consider the words of Maya Angelou: "On so many levels (poetry) strengthens a person. One thing it does is it tells the person that he or she is not out there alone; that there are other people who have felt that way and who are feeling that way. It takes away some of the bitterness of aloneness. We find that somebody(else) did love someone that much. Someone did feel that loss when he or she was exiled or abandoned".(Interview with Maya Angelou by Joe Burns, The Cape Codder, Orleans, MA, 2000.)

And consider a part of the message of Desiderata. "Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune." (Anonymous)

I have interspersed throughout this collection of poems and thoughts, excerpts from what I have found to be important writings of others to whom I have gone for insight during my own pendulum swings of life. I encourage you to read them in their entirety.

Who's That?

2008-03-05T14:29:00.000-08:00

I feel so completely discarded,
Put away from the intimate world;
A banner removed and rolled tight,
Not waving, no longer unfurled.

I exist from each hour to hour,
Waiting for solace of night
Which brings freedom from much apprehension
Of the next back turned or a slight.

I've covered up deep-seated feelings,
And found work to make a small difference;
In a place of numbers and budgets,
Not affirming my spirit's existence.

Rewards come from being tough minded,
Thick skinned, hard nosed and objective.
I've learned these skills and am adequate,
Sometimes awkward, excessive, protective.

Though it's not really me that's exposed,
But a reflection trying to please
The powers that be to survive
In a world full of conflict, appease.

It's taken a toll on my being.
I'm sick in my heart and scared.
Those I've needed but hurt by withdrawal
Have given up, quite unprepared

To deal with a soul inauthentic,
A caricature of another;
An imitation, a fraud, a pawn,
When they wanted to be with a lover.

I'm so out of touch with the truth,
I admit I don't know the way back.
The world says, "Rely on yourself".
Who's that? I've lost him in fact.

Occasionally another has shared
That I've touched them in ways quite profound.
The settings are outside of business,
And encourage my staying around.

I long for a place and connections
Where that happens more often than not.
I have need for a guide who knows how
To help me to live, not to rot.

On Intimacy

2008-02-20T15:01:00.000-08:00

I can be gentle, understanding and warm

It seems.

Yet also distant, reflective

In dreams

Of what I thought my world should be,

Though lacking support and not led.

And didn't I wish I could keep it so,

In spite of what others have said.

I've spent many years thinking, obsessing,

Believing I knew a truth

Which would strengthen, protect me and guide me

O'er the countless days since youth.

But assaults have come on my borders,

So they've been somewhat drawn in;

A little close but comfortable,

Secure, once solid; now thin.

I need, desire and want you first friend

To teach me sustainable caring;

What I need to know and accept, so to be

More understanding, open and sharing.

So please cross over these borders

And share what you're willing to say.

Talk about us and what we've been through,

And why we should not throw it away.

We're so much alike, yet so different.

Can we know that and not make a fuss?

Learn from each other, share with each other,

Somehow be with each other, just us?

And back to my wishing for mendings

Which I hope we can talk about soon;

Our traditions and tendings, beginnings and endings.

Are you willing to give me some room

To be back in your life, so surprising?

I know you found strength to let go

When you thought I had exorcised caring,

But just needed to find new ways to grow.

On Why

2008-02-20T14:50:00.000-08:00

We have met, and we both know how.
You have happened to me, and I think I know why.
Perhaps it's synchronicity, mysterious in itself;
Two lives, like Spode, stored safely on a shelf

But now needing to be needed, put back into use,
Risk being shattered.
Yes, if dropped, we could break,
But please use us, for God's sake.

Nothing Was Wrong

2008-02-20T14:41:00.000-08:00

At first I acted like nothing was wrong,
And assumed my boys would support
The decision I made. At first they were strong,
And gave me a good report.

But reality reared its ugly head
As day gave way to day.
When I wasn't at home to tuck them in bed,
It sank in that I'd gone away.

The Individual

2008-02-15T14:29:00.000-08:00

We're never always sure
As we travel through existence
That the crew we started out with
Will share our same persistence

To complete the entire voyage
With us, though they'll surely finish
Perhaps with a different crew
Though the trip will not diminish

Rather it's expanded
Not in length but breadth
It might be far more crucial
To take soundings of new depth.

For all are on a voyage
And each one custom made
To the needs which must be met
If that voyage is to aid

The Individual's search
The meaning of the Quest
Though one will travel East
Another must choose West

It's actually not a mutiny
Though we often feel betrayed
What actually up for scrutiny
Is: Are our fears allayed

That we can keep on going
Though key support must change?
On whom are we relying
And who assists in range?

It's not often our decision
And feelings are not just
We must be open handed
With others who now must

Deal with other needs
As they make a new decision
For themselves and how they'll go
It's growth and not division

Which yields rewards, not limits
And all can gain though split
As each one ventures forth
From hard lessons comes new grit

Attachment has rewards
Though not to whom, but why
If we really love them so
We have to let them fly

And least for now it seems
They've given all they know
To this point at least that's clear
Now it's time for them to go

So with what are we left?
As for them it's their decision
The sharing that we had
Smiles at our vain derision

They had to make a choice
For them not versus us
To experiment still further
Try not to make a fuss

The Individual's All
And when All is added up
It's exponentially more
First we drain then fill the cup

Regret Not Me

2008-02-15T14:20:00.000-08:00

The voice I hear is clearly thine
It whispers all of thee
I hear in it the laugh, the lilt
The love so deep in me.

I fear to call for might it cease
Since only Seasons know the peace
Which I shall seek
Till Time repairs

And yet while Winter has her way
I know my solace is to pray
That while we find ourselves apart
The days till Spring will fairly flee

From Winters muffled sounds I plea
And of you ask with answering heart
My love, my love,
Forget not me.

The Joker of Hearts

2008-02-13T17:37:00.000-08:00

My Joker of Hearts is too large for myself,
So it's beat twenty years at your door.
It is smaller by half than the one in yourself,
But it knows you're the one we adore.

It wailed out on the morn
Of the day when I was born,
And today, at the world, it still cries.
It will stop, short, never to wail again
When the old man dies.

Many years without numbering,
Thumping, thumping;

A heart never slumbering,
Thumping, thumping.

It will stop short,
Never to wail again,
When the old man dies.

A Poet Named Kat

2008-02-05T15:27:00.000-08:00

I just met a poet named Kat
Who's as clever as Cat in the Hat.
She writes about creatures
With scurrilous features
Who don't always know where they're at.

One was a skunk Kat named Dot,
Whose unplanned excursion Dot got.
She woke up in Toronto
And more quickly than pronto
The locals welcomed her not.

And then there's the groundhop named Willy
Who provokes human actions quite silly.
Like Phil in the US
He's relied on to tell us
When winter will end, willy-nilly.

The irony to me is that Kat
Has more than just one favorite cat.
Just north of the border,
Of cats she's a hoarder.
Believe it not, that's that.

Thanks

2007-10-13T14:09:00.000-07:00

Often when we've asked for help with a task
We need to express sincere thanks.
So please now take heed of my passionate need,
Which you can take to your favorite banks.

I am genuinely happy, though seeming unflappy,
Having found my relationship treasure.
To use intuition, bring thoughts to fruition,
Deeply stirs my emotional pleasure.

So thanks be to God that I've settled my bod
Midst the likes of you, each one a donor.
You gave, now receive, and quite surely believe
I give thanks I'm no longer a loner.

A Man's Muse

2007-10-13T13:50:00.000-07:00

So why do I think
A man's muse is a she?
He's seldom emote
Or write poetry.

But seldom's not never;
He's human it seems,
And thus not immune
To well-shattered dreams.

And if his strange muse
Is a definite she,
She's the internal part
Of his external he.

He might try retrieving,
And opening the gift,
Once put aside
In a long ago rift.

Here's to unwrapping,
Taking down from the shelf,
That long hidden treasure;
And enjoy the whole self.

A Riddle

2007-10-08T13:34:00.000-07:00

What strange mysteries surround
Our mere existence!
The thought that God is someone real
Prevails, and in persistence.

But what's He do, She if you like,
As we contend with Life?
We oft take credit on our own,
But with Him share our strife.

One strain of Christian worship
Says He's part of everything.
Through prayer they conjure up His will,
In all His praises sing.

It's their belief He's in control
Of health, of love of sin.
Evangelistic stories flow
That lives are changed within.

Another group in search of faith
Aren't sure it always works.
To them, less sanguine possibly,
Life's full of puzzling quirks.

And then there is the Devil's deal,
The wicked one, the bad.
To some a concept, to some He's real,
To some He's just a fad.

On the other hand some people feel
That Life is accidental.
To them a god is quite unreal,
A concept purely mental.

In Life's affairs I usually find
Extremes are hard to trust.
Inevitably they polarize,
Proclaiming, "Think like us!"

My experience and my mind
Make room for compromise.
If something is one-sided
It's rare, and a surprise.

I've built my life around this,
To seek the middle ground.
It's often quite rewarding
and bridges gaps I've found.

But no so with religion.
The in between is out.
It seems that one must take a stand,
To something be devout.

The riddle is outside of Life
And baffling to my thought,
Since intellect seems useless;
It simply goes for naught.

It's hard for me to understand
That, given all our senses,
We must decide without their use;
Our minds are only fences.

The Riddle goes unanswered
For me, I must confess.
The only progress that I've made
Is God is there--I guess.

Separation Symphony

2007-10-08T13:21:00.000-07:00

The opening strain proclaims the theme
Of startling emptiness
From overpowering sense of loss
Which can't resist its press.

It settles in, a haunting friend
As variations start;
So every part of Life once shared
Is cruelly pulled apart.

Then enter strains which salve the wound,
As Time repairs and starts
Creative thought of future plans
To entertain the heart.

The final movement, classically,
Sings of triumph in its claim
That love will once again feel light,
A welcome last refrain.

Rain

2007-10-08T13:17:00.000-07:00

Rain, gentle or heavy
When I'm alone and in thought,
Is pleasing and friendly,
Helps imagination be caught
By heaven knows what.
It really won't matter.
Just rain and my thought;
On mind's window nice patter.

Is it Crisis Overload or Challenge to Would-Be Presidents?

2007-10-07T16:01:00.000-07:00

I thought it might be interesting to make a list of what is being reported in the various elements of the the media, whether it be print, Internet or Cable News.

Here is a list of topics I compiled from reading the media's above the fold front pages, on their recent real and virtual offerings.

Torture
Iran
Schip
Health Care
Spending
Budget
Taxes
Signing Statements
Executive Privilege
Blackwater
Climate Change
Halliburton
No bid Contracts
Faith Based Funding
Religious Influence on Politics
Veterans' Health Care, Walter Reed
Patriot Act: Security and Privacy
Katrina
The war in Iraq
The War in Afghanistan
The War against Terrorism

How do react to this list? Do you see a pattern which suggests a point of view, do you see each item as a topic to be discussed and debated, are you turned off by the list, do you care less?
If nothing else you can use the list as check points if and when you consider someone to vote for.

Leave a comment to let me know what you think.

Thirsty Muse

Immersed or Washed Ashore?

2007-10-06T16:49:00.000-07:00

If you take pride in and belief yourself to be a member of the Republican party, you won't agree with much of those things I write from a politcal point of view, unless you, like many people who believe in the value of a conservative view and approach to life, have decided that the current administration is conservative in name only.

Recently, I put my thoughts about that on another blog, http://www.capecodlighthouse.blogspot.com/.

Those thoughts were about my reaction to David Brooks' piece in the NYTimes on why the Republican party is coming apart. In that post I mentioned that I considered myself more aligned with the Republican point of view for many years, just as dad and mom did. But I declared myself as an Independent for voting purposes when the words Republican and Conservative came to be only labels and names, like the empty shells one finds on a beach. That which once annimated it, its substance, flesh and blood, and the spirit which moved it are missing, gone, dead, nowhere to be found.

I realized that searching for a home in the Democrat or Liberal group was like looking for another empty shell to inhabit. None of those fits either, and they all had a bad smell left over from their previous inhabitants.

Perhaps the Great Spirit, that Higher Power, which embodies the hopes and aspirations, as well as the pride and satisfaction which springs from the struggle of doing one's best, will once again inhabit, add substance to and annimate a yet unidentified creature. One will be able to encounter it only by becoming immersed in its habitat, taking the chance to dive in without knowing the depth, temperature and potability of the water in which it thrives.

In Whom Shall We Trust?

2007-09-21T16:15:00.001-07:00

It's not likely that whatever I write here will settle anything about the question I posed as the title of this post.

I have established two blogs, this one, The Thirsty Muse, and the other one, Cape Cod Lighthouse. The first is about what I feel about stuff and the second about what I think about stuff.

Often my attention is grabbed, you might say hijacked, by input of stuff uninvited. I experience something like the static one gets when trying to adjust the dial to get a clear signal on the radio.

The Poet and the Pendulum

2007-09-01T15:41:00.000-07:00

I set up this blog as a place to publish some or all of the content of my poetry collection, The Poet and the Pendulum, but also a place where I can share what I feel about stuff in contrast to what I think about stuff. If your confused leave a comment, and I will respond with some clarity.

It's kind of a second chance to share, and as such I expect that I will re-think what I published before, and pick and chose what I will publish here. I might also make changes to some of the poems, for literary improvement, meaningful improvement, error correction or whatever. As a Second Chance it offers the best of options for an author: a blank slate, an opportunity to improve and a chance to edit and proofread one more time. Such are the benefits of Second Chances.

On the off chance that anyone actually reads this post, and in the even more off chance that such a reader wants to find the original work, here is its ISBN: 0-9712356-0-0.

I also write on another blog, http://www.capecodlighthouse.blogspot.com/, where I try to express my rational and logical thoughts. Some who know me fairly well tell me that I am at least two persons, confirming my own suspicions. Some of them point to my birth date, and tell me that I'm on the cusp of Taurus and Gemini, the Bull in the China Shop and the Twins. That would be a convenient explanation for my admitted dual tendencies; to say what I think, employing logic at the expense of feelings, arguing as a lawyer, as my father used to observe, and to write what I feel as my mother used to observe.

For years these aspects of my being have been confusing to me, much like trying to tune into a radio station hoping to get a clear signal, but getting only static.

Even as I write this I'm wondering whether I should exclaim that I've made a decision about how I should live, hang the consequences, or hold back unsure of the validity of what I think and/or feel; and the accompanying fear of unintended consequences.

If you have read this far, and in any way feel some identification with what you have read, perhaps you will return to this site, where I will be posting some of my poems.

A further observation; What I plan to publish here will not withstand the scrutiny of rationality and logic. It will be intentionally of a different nature. It will be personal, and not in the mold of the well educated, hard driving, success oriented, task oriented and competitive male.

Should you be sufficiently interested to read what I have written, coming from the thinking, logical, objective side of me, go to:
http://www.capecodlightghouse.blogspot.com/.