Settling

settling-meditation-sky-header

Geneen Roth lives with messy and magnificent

 

Let the ashes settle

then ride the phoenix

the shooting, quiet stars in the moonlit calming light

Genius Tester for Jeanne

GeniusTestforJeanne

Answer the questions for a personal IQ test!.

Mine was totally gratifying!

Fussing…

NoTimeForFussing

Calligrapher: John Stevens

instead of fussing, try tenderness:

tendernessbyGeneenRoth

by Geneen Roth

Instead of fighting, try being creative!

Geneen Roth

 

Grab a pandemic attitude!

Hearts of Stone

On February 5, 1955, the most popular song was “Hearts of Stone” by the Fontane Sisters

You can hear and see it on U-Tube at:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4x_Dem0JbWMHearts of Stone

It’s possible this song told you how your life would be…

 

Hearts made of stone
Will never break
For the love you have for them
They just won’t take
You can ask them please
Please please please break
And all of your love
Is there to take

Yes, hearts of stone
Will cause you pain
Although you love them
They’ll stop you just the same
You can ask them please
Please please please break
And all of your love
Is there to take

But they’ll say no no no no no no no no no no no no no
Everybody knows
I thought you knew
Hearts made of stone

Yes, hearts of stone
Will cause you pain
Although you love them
They’ll stop you just the same
You can ask them please
Please please please break
And all of your love
Is there to take

But they’ll say no no no no no no no no no no no no no
Everybody knows
I thought you knew
Hearts made of stone

stormy sky

MarcinPiwowarski

illustrator: Marcin Piwowarski

 

the wind and the sea

batter me – sting my skin – burn my eye

clear sky : same sea scrolls

social distancing

byStellaMarisMongodi

illustrated by Stella Maris Mongodi

 

where is the cat?

that is the question… bird – mouse

muse at vanity…

the Howl by Allen Ginsberg

 

full studded hippy

Allen Ginsberg was made famous by his poem: “Howl” in Octobet of 1955 in

San Francisco.

 

“Howl,” at the Six Gallery Reading —

the poem that begins with the lines:

 

“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,

starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn

looking for an angry fix,

angel headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection

to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,

 who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed high sat up

smoking in the supernatural darkness

of cold-water flats

  floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

who bared their brains to Heaven under the El

and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement

roofs illuminated.”

frog vs toad

JRZ4Julia Rohan Zoch

JRZ

Julia Rohan Zoch

Plains Spadefoot Toad
by Tom Hennen

Toads are smarter than frogs. Like all of us who are not good-
looking they have to rely on their wits. A woman around the
beginning of the last century who was in love with frogs wrote
a wonderful book on frogs and toads. In it she says if you place
a frog and a toad on a table they will both hop. The toad will
stop just at the table’s edge, but the frog with its smooth skin
and pretty eyes will leap with all its beauty out into nothing-
ness. I tried it out on my kitchen table and it is true. That may
explain why toads live twice as long as frogs. Frogs are better at
romance though. A pair of spring peepers were once observed
whispering sweet nothings for thirty-four hours. Not by me.
The toad and I have not moved.
 
Tom Hennen, “Plains Spadefoot Toad” from Darkness Sticks to Everything: Collected and New Poems. Copyright © 2013 by Tom Hennen.

For Bed Not Car

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For Bed Not Car

You must grab my bust
as it is soft

But not while I am driving,
please.
The busts are driving, busy busts!

You might burst my busts
first curse them…

erst glands of milk
for suckling held secure

but more for bed, not car
you mar their use…hold them bizarre

and make me cry and grind my teeth
see stars that call to me to spar to bursting!

with your busts, attacking!

wisdom

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“Of the Terrible Doubt of Appearances” by Walt Whitman.

When he whom I love travels with me or sits a long while
    holding me by the hand,
When the subtle air, the impalpable, the sense that words and
    reason hold not, surround us and pervade us,
Then I am charged with untold and untellable wisdom, I am
    silent, I require nothing further,

 

It’s the birthday of Walt Whitman (books by this author), born in West Hills, Long Island, New York (1819). Whitman worked as a printing press typesetter, teacher, journalist, and newspaper editor. He was working as a carpenter, his father’s trade, and living with his mother in Brooklyn, when he read Ralph Waldo Emerson’s essay “The Poet,” which claimed the new United States needed a poet to properly capture its spirit. Whitman decided he was that poet. “I was simmering, simmering, simmering,” Whitman later said. “Emerson brought me to a boil.”
Whitman began work on his collection Leaves of Grass, crafting an American epic that celebrated the common man. He did most of the typesetting for the book himself, and he made sure the edition was small enough to fit in a pocket, later explaining, “I am nearly always successful with the reader in the open air.” He was 37 years old when he paid for the publication of 795 copies out of his own pocket.
Many of Whitman’s poems were criticized for being openly erotic. One of Whitman’s earliest reviews had called the book “a mass of stupid filth,” accusing Whitman of “that horrible sin not to be mentioned among Christians.” But rather than censoring himself, Whitman added 146 poems to his third edition.
He began to grow a literary reputation that swung from genius to moral reprobate, depending on the reader. Thoreau wrote, “It is as if the beasts spoke.” Willa Cather referred to Whitman as “that dirty old man.” Emerson praised Whitman’s collection as “the most extraordinary piece of wit and wisdom America has yet contributed,” and the critic William Michael Rossetti proclaimed that Whitman was a talent on par with Shakespeare.
Whitman left New York when his brother was wounded in the Civil War, traveling to Virginia and then to Washington, D.C., to serve as a volunteer Army hospital nurse. He had a reputation for unconventional clothing and manners. He wrote, “I cock my hat as I please, indoors and out.” With the help of well-placed friends, Whitman eventually found work as a low-level clerk in the Department of the Interior. But when former Iowa Senator James Harlan discovered Whitman worked in his department, he had him dismissed, proclaiming Leaves of Grass was “full of indecent passages,” and that Whitman himself was a “very bad man” and a “free lover.”
Whitman’s friend William Douglas O’Connor immediately came to his defense. He arranged for Whitman to be transferred to the attorney general’s office, and he published a pamphlet refuting Harlan’s charges. Titled The Good Gray Poet: A Vindication, the small book praised Whitman’s “nobleness of character” and went on to quote from positive reviews — and to ridicule Harlan as an under-read philistine.
The pamphlet became more than a vindication: it helped to radically alter the average reader’s perception of Whitman as both a writer and as a man: Out with the image of the bawdy nonconformist and in with the “good gray poet,” the nickname for Whitman that is still popular to this day.
Whitman spent the last 20 years of his life revising and expanding Leaves of Grass, issuing the eighth and final edition in 1891, saying it was “at last complete — after 33 y’rs of hackling at it, all times & moods of my life, fair weather & foul, all parts of the land, and peace & war, young & old.”
Today, most scholars agree that Whitman was likely gay. When he was asked directly, toward the end of his life, Whitman declined to answer. But he did say, shortly before he died, that sex was “the thing in my work which has been most misunderstood — that has excited the roundest opposition, the sharpest venom, the unintermitted slander, of the people who regard themselves as the custodians of the morals of the world.”

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