this video expresses something for me now....
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Elles Recital
My little friend, Elle's, recital this past summer -- she's center front, you can't miss her
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Things that go into music
Phantom creatures and objects fill the alley by the side of my place: these are the sounds that abound with the city's attitude. Noise is blunt awareness, but then just ebb of the city's flow, so that I grow accustomed, and sometimes, even, think "what jazz!" only later recalling childhood summer nights, lying in bed, the scent of soap, dozing off amid the background sound of crickets.
Nell
8/30/07
Nell
8/30/07
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Howard Zinn on Nationalism
Published on Monday, July 3, 2006 by the Progressive
Put Away the Flags
by Howard Zinn
On this July 4, we would do well to renounce nationalism and all its symbols: its flags, its pledges of allegiance, its anthems, its insistence in song that God must single out America to be blessed.
Is not nationalism -- that devotion to a flag, an anthem, a boundary so fierce it engenders mass murder -- one of the great evils of our time, along with racism, along with religious hatred?
These ways of thinking -- cultivated, nurtured, indoctrinated from childhood on -- have been useful to those in power, and deadly for those out of power.
National spirit can be benign in a country that is small and lacking both in military power and a hunger for expansion (Switzerland, Norway, Costa Rica and many more). But in a nation like ours -- huge, possessing thousands of weapons of mass destruction -- what might have been harmless pride becomes an arrogant nationalism dangerous to others and to ourselves.
Our citizenry has been brought up to see our nation as different from others, an exception in the world, uniquely moral, expanding into other lands in order to bring civilization, liberty, democracy.
That self-deception started early.
When the first English settlers moved into Indian land in Massachusetts Bay and were resisted, the violence escalated into war with the Pequot Indians. The killing of Indians was seen as approved by God, the taking of land as commanded by the Bible. The Puritans cited one of the Psalms, which says: "Ask of me, and I shall give thee, the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the Earth for thy possession."
When the English set fire to a Pequot village and massacred men, women and children, the Puritan theologian Cotton Mather said: "It was supposed that no less than 600 Pequot souls were brought down to hell that day."
On the eve of the Mexican War, an American journalist declared it our "Manifest Destiny to overspread the continent allotted by Providence." After the invasion of Mexico began, The New York Herald announced: "We believe it is a part of our destiny to civilize that beautiful country."
It was always supposedly for benign purposes that our country went to war.
We invaded Cuba in 1898 to liberate the Cubans, and went to war in the Philippines shortly after, as President McKinley put it, "to civilize and Christianize" the Filipino people.
As our armies were committing massacres in the Philippines (at least 600,000 Filipinos died in a few years of conflict), Elihu Root, our secretary of war, was saying: "The American soldier is different from all other soldiers of all other countries since the war began. He is the advance guard of liberty and justice, of law and order, and of peace and happiness."
We see in Iraq that our soldiers are not different. They have, perhaps against their better nature, killed thousands of Iraq civilians. And some soldiers have shown themselves capable of brutality, of torture.
Yet they are victims, too, of our government's lies.
How many times have we heard President Bush and Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld tell the troops that if they die, if they return without arms or legs, or blinded, it is for "liberty," for "democracy"?
One of the effects of nationalist thinking is a loss of a sense of proportion. The killing of 2,300 people at Pearl Harbor becomes the justification for killing 240,000 in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The killing of 3,000 people on Sept. 11 becomes the justification for killing tens of thousands of people in Afghanistan and Iraq.
And nationalism is given a special virulence when it is said to be blessed by Providence. Today we have a president, invading two countries in four years, who announced on the campaign trail last year that God speaks through him.
We need to refute the idea that our nation is different from, morally superior to, the other imperial powers of world history.
We need to assert our allegiance to the human race, and not to any one nation
Put Away the Flags
by Howard Zinn
On this July 4, we would do well to renounce nationalism and all its symbols: its flags, its pledges of allegiance, its anthems, its insistence in song that God must single out America to be blessed.
Is not nationalism -- that devotion to a flag, an anthem, a boundary so fierce it engenders mass murder -- one of the great evils of our time, along with racism, along with religious hatred?
These ways of thinking -- cultivated, nurtured, indoctrinated from childhood on -- have been useful to those in power, and deadly for those out of power.
National spirit can be benign in a country that is small and lacking both in military power and a hunger for expansion (Switzerland, Norway, Costa Rica and many more). But in a nation like ours -- huge, possessing thousands of weapons of mass destruction -- what might have been harmless pride becomes an arrogant nationalism dangerous to others and to ourselves.
Our citizenry has been brought up to see our nation as different from others, an exception in the world, uniquely moral, expanding into other lands in order to bring civilization, liberty, democracy.
That self-deception started early.
When the first English settlers moved into Indian land in Massachusetts Bay and were resisted, the violence escalated into war with the Pequot Indians. The killing of Indians was seen as approved by God, the taking of land as commanded by the Bible. The Puritans cited one of the Psalms, which says: "Ask of me, and I shall give thee, the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the Earth for thy possession."
When the English set fire to a Pequot village and massacred men, women and children, the Puritan theologian Cotton Mather said: "It was supposed that no less than 600 Pequot souls were brought down to hell that day."
On the eve of the Mexican War, an American journalist declared it our "Manifest Destiny to overspread the continent allotted by Providence." After the invasion of Mexico began, The New York Herald announced: "We believe it is a part of our destiny to civilize that beautiful country."
It was always supposedly for benign purposes that our country went to war.
We invaded Cuba in 1898 to liberate the Cubans, and went to war in the Philippines shortly after, as President McKinley put it, "to civilize and Christianize" the Filipino people.
As our armies were committing massacres in the Philippines (at least 600,000 Filipinos died in a few years of conflict), Elihu Root, our secretary of war, was saying: "The American soldier is different from all other soldiers of all other countries since the war began. He is the advance guard of liberty and justice, of law and order, and of peace and happiness."
We see in Iraq that our soldiers are not different. They have, perhaps against their better nature, killed thousands of Iraq civilians. And some soldiers have shown themselves capable of brutality, of torture.
Yet they are victims, too, of our government's lies.
How many times have we heard President Bush and Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld tell the troops that if they die, if they return without arms or legs, or blinded, it is for "liberty," for "democracy"?
One of the effects of nationalist thinking is a loss of a sense of proportion. The killing of 2,300 people at Pearl Harbor becomes the justification for killing 240,000 in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The killing of 3,000 people on Sept. 11 becomes the justification for killing tens of thousands of people in Afghanistan and Iraq.
And nationalism is given a special virulence when it is said to be blessed by Providence. Today we have a president, invading two countries in four years, who announced on the campaign trail last year that God speaks through him.
We need to refute the idea that our nation is different from, morally superior to, the other imperial powers of world history.
We need to assert our allegiance to the human race, and not to any one nation
Friday, August 17, 2007
notes on buddhism -- from "The Center Holds" in STATES OF GRACE by Charlene Spretnak
As Gotama continued to intervene in his own reactive mental processes simply with unbroken awareness, he saw that the mind becomes purified as the patterns of reaction are weakened and as the judgmental, evaluating process becomes correspondingly less intense. As he progressed and the deep, habitual patterns of reaction were eradicated, his entire mental structure became filled with the qualities of a liberated mind: pure love, infinite compassion, joy in the joy of others, and equanimity.
He continued to progress to subtler and subtler levels of awareness until he arrived at experiential knowledge of the ultimate truth: that matter and energy---constituting mental contents, the physical structure of the body, and the forms manifested in the surrounding universe---are nothing but vibration and oscillation. He saw that this truth of the entire universe can be experienced within the framework of the body.
Still he went further and experienced the fading away and cessation of craving, the end of suffering, the perception beyond conditions of arising and passing away---the unconditioned state of Nibbana.
At dawn, after his night of searching, Siddhattha Gotama arose a Buddha, and henceforth was called by that title---the Enlightened One, the Awakened One---by all who heard him. Filled with love and compassion for the suffering of all beings, Gotama Buddha spent the remaining fourty-five years of his life teaching the practical method by which people can observe the nature of mind, the cause of suffering, and the cessation of suffering. He taught not sectarian "Buddhism" but universal Dhamma, the pure truth, the actual nature of being. Moreover, he claimed no inspiration from any god or external power, attributing his realization and achievements to human endeavor and human intelligence. He taught that empherical observation of cause and effect regarding the human psyche and behavior, rather than notions of devine intervention, offers a sure path beyond anguish.
The Buddha began his teachings by delivering the discourse called "The Turning of the Wheel of Dhamma." With clarity and love, he expressed the wisdom of the Four Noble Truths: suffering is with us throughout this life; the cause of suffering is desire (craving or aversion); the way out of suffering is the way beyond desire; that way is the Eightfold Noble Path. The Eightfold Path consists of morality (right speech, right action, right livelihood); meditation (right concentration, right mindfulness, right effort); and wisdom (right understanding, right thought), each of which strengthens the growth of the others. Together they comprise the path known as The Middle Way, avoiding extremes of asceticism or indulgence.
In addition to his teachings on ethical, spiritual, and philosophical problems, the Buddha also delivered discourses on social, economic, and political matters. Many of these addressed the proper conduct of kings, for there were many corrupt ones in his day; we would substitute the word "government." In the Cakkavattishanada Sutta he states that poverty is the cause of crimes such as theft, falsehood, violence, and so forth. Trying to suppress such crime through punishment is futile, he states in the Kutadanta Sutta. Instead, the economic condition of the people should be improved. Among his teachings on "Ten Duties of the King" are nonobstruction of the will of the people, as well as nonviolence.
He continued to progress to subtler and subtler levels of awareness until he arrived at experiential knowledge of the ultimate truth: that matter and energy---constituting mental contents, the physical structure of the body, and the forms manifested in the surrounding universe---are nothing but vibration and oscillation. He saw that this truth of the entire universe can be experienced within the framework of the body.
Still he went further and experienced the fading away and cessation of craving, the end of suffering, the perception beyond conditions of arising and passing away---the unconditioned state of Nibbana.
At dawn, after his night of searching, Siddhattha Gotama arose a Buddha, and henceforth was called by that title---the Enlightened One, the Awakened One---by all who heard him. Filled with love and compassion for the suffering of all beings, Gotama Buddha spent the remaining fourty-five years of his life teaching the practical method by which people can observe the nature of mind, the cause of suffering, and the cessation of suffering. He taught not sectarian "Buddhism" but universal Dhamma, the pure truth, the actual nature of being. Moreover, he claimed no inspiration from any god or external power, attributing his realization and achievements to human endeavor and human intelligence. He taught that empherical observation of cause and effect regarding the human psyche and behavior, rather than notions of devine intervention, offers a sure path beyond anguish.
The Buddha began his teachings by delivering the discourse called "The Turning of the Wheel of Dhamma." With clarity and love, he expressed the wisdom of the Four Noble Truths: suffering is with us throughout this life; the cause of suffering is desire (craving or aversion); the way out of suffering is the way beyond desire; that way is the Eightfold Noble Path. The Eightfold Path consists of morality (right speech, right action, right livelihood); meditation (right concentration, right mindfulness, right effort); and wisdom (right understanding, right thought), each of which strengthens the growth of the others. Together they comprise the path known as The Middle Way, avoiding extremes of asceticism or indulgence.
In addition to his teachings on ethical, spiritual, and philosophical problems, the Buddha also delivered discourses on social, economic, and political matters. Many of these addressed the proper conduct of kings, for there were many corrupt ones in his day; we would substitute the word "government." In the Cakkavattishanada Sutta he states that poverty is the cause of crimes such as theft, falsehood, violence, and so forth. Trying to suppress such crime through punishment is futile, he states in the Kutadanta Sutta. Instead, the economic condition of the people should be improved. Among his teachings on "Ten Duties of the King" are nonobstruction of the will of the people, as well as nonviolence.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Howard Zinn -- ZNet Commentary -- September 30, 2004
The Optimism of Uncertainty
By Howard Zinn
In this awful world where the efforts of caring people often pale in comparison to what is done by those who have power, how do I manage to stay involved and seemingly happy?
I am totally confident not that the world will get better, but that we should not give up the game before all the cards have been played.
The metaphor is deliberate; life is a gamble. Not to play is to foreclose any chance of winning. To play, to act, is to create at least a possibility of changing the world.
There is a tendency to think that what we see in the present moment will continue. We forget how often we have been astonished by the sudden crumbling of institutions, by extraordinary changes in people's thoughts, by unexpected eruptions of rebellion against tyrannies, by the quick collapse of systems of power that seemed invincible.
What leaps out from the history of the past hundred years is its utter unpredictability. A revolution to overthrow the czar of Russia, in that most sluggish of semi-feudal empires, not only startled the most advanced imperial powers but took Lenin himself by surprise and sent him rushing by train to Petrograd.
Who would have predicted the bizarre shifts of World War II--the Nazi-Soviet pact (those embarrassing photos of von Ribbentrop and Molotov shaking hands), and the German Army rolling through Russia, apparently invincible, causing colossal casualties, being turned back at the gates of Leningrad, on the western edge of Moscow, in the streets of Stalingrad, followed by the defeat of the German army, with Hitler huddled in his Berlin bunker, waiting to die?
And then the postwar world, taking a shape no one could have drawn in advance: The Chinese Communist revolution, the tumultuous and violent Cultural Revolution, and then another turnabout, with post-Mao China renouncing its most fervently held ideas and institutions, making overtures to the West, cuddling up to capitalist enterprise, perplexing everyone.
No one foresaw the disintegration of the old Western empires happening so quickly after the war, or the odd array of societies that would be created in the newly independent nations, from the benign village socialism of Nyerere's Tanzania to the madness of Idi Amin's adjacent Uganda. Spain became an astonishment. I recall a veteran of the Abraham Lincoln Brigade telling me that he could not imagine Spanish Fascism being overthrown without another bloody war.
But after Franco was gone, a parliamentary democracy came into being, open to Socialists, Communists, anarchists, everyone.
The end of World War II left two superpowers with their respective spheres of influence and control, vying for military and political power. Yet they were unable to control events, even in those parts of the world considered to be their respective spheres of influence.
The failure of the Soviet Union to have its way in Afghanistan, its decision to withdraw after almost a decade of ugly intervention, was the most striking evidence that even the possession of thermonuclear weapons does not guarantee domination over a determined population.
The United States has faced the same reality. It waged a full-scale war in lndochina, conducting the most brutal bombardment of a tiny peninsula in world history, and yet was forced to withdraw. In the headlines every day we see other instances of the failure of the presumably powerful over the presumably powerless, as in Brazil, where a grassroots movement of workers and the poor elected a new president pledged to fight destructive corporate power.
Looking at this catalogue of huge surprises, it's clear that the struggle for justice should never be abandoned because of the apparent overwhelming power of those who have the guns and the money and who seem invincible in their determination to hold on to it.
That apparent power has, again and again, proved vulnerable to human qualities less measurable than bombs and dollars: moral fervor, determination, unity, organization, sacrifice, wit, ingenuity, courage, patience--whether by blacks in Alabama and South Africa, peasants in El Salvador, Nicaragua and Vietnam, or workers and intellectuals in Poland, Hungary and the Soviet Union itself. No cold calculation of the balance of power need deter people who are persuaded that their cause is just.
I have tried hard to match my friends in their pessimism about the world (is it just my friends?), but I keep encountering people who, in spite of all the evidence of terrible things happening everywhere, give me hope. Especially young people, in whom the future rests.
Wherever I go, I find such people. And beyond the handful of activists there seem to be hundreds, thousands, more who are open to unorthodox ideas. But they tend not to know of one another's existence, and so, while they persist, they do so with the desperate patience of Sisyphus endlessly pushing that boulder up the mountain.
I try to tell each group that it is not alone, and that the very people who are disheartened by the absence of a national movement are themselves proof of the potential for such a movement.
Revolutionary change does not come as one cataclysmic moment (beware of such moments!) but as an endless succession of surprises, moving zigzag toward a more decent society. We don't have to engage in grand, heroic actions to participate in the process of change. Small acts, when multiplied by millions of people, can transform the world.
Even when we don't "win," there is fun and fulfillment in the fact that we have been involved, with other good people, in something worthwhile. We need hope.
An optimist isn't necessarily a blithe, slightly sappy whistler in the dark of our time. To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness. What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something.
If we remember those times and places--and there are so many--where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction. And if we do act, in however small a way, we don't have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.
By Howard Zinn
In this awful world where the efforts of caring people often pale in comparison to what is done by those who have power, how do I manage to stay involved and seemingly happy?
I am totally confident not that the world will get better, but that we should not give up the game before all the cards have been played.
The metaphor is deliberate; life is a gamble. Not to play is to foreclose any chance of winning. To play, to act, is to create at least a possibility of changing the world.
There is a tendency to think that what we see in the present moment will continue. We forget how often we have been astonished by the sudden crumbling of institutions, by extraordinary changes in people's thoughts, by unexpected eruptions of rebellion against tyrannies, by the quick collapse of systems of power that seemed invincible.
What leaps out from the history of the past hundred years is its utter unpredictability. A revolution to overthrow the czar of Russia, in that most sluggish of semi-feudal empires, not only startled the most advanced imperial powers but took Lenin himself by surprise and sent him rushing by train to Petrograd.
Who would have predicted the bizarre shifts of World War II--the Nazi-Soviet pact (those embarrassing photos of von Ribbentrop and Molotov shaking hands), and the German Army rolling through Russia, apparently invincible, causing colossal casualties, being turned back at the gates of Leningrad, on the western edge of Moscow, in the streets of Stalingrad, followed by the defeat of the German army, with Hitler huddled in his Berlin bunker, waiting to die?
And then the postwar world, taking a shape no one could have drawn in advance: The Chinese Communist revolution, the tumultuous and violent Cultural Revolution, and then another turnabout, with post-Mao China renouncing its most fervently held ideas and institutions, making overtures to the West, cuddling up to capitalist enterprise, perplexing everyone.
No one foresaw the disintegration of the old Western empires happening so quickly after the war, or the odd array of societies that would be created in the newly independent nations, from the benign village socialism of Nyerere's Tanzania to the madness of Idi Amin's adjacent Uganda. Spain became an astonishment. I recall a veteran of the Abraham Lincoln Brigade telling me that he could not imagine Spanish Fascism being overthrown without another bloody war.
But after Franco was gone, a parliamentary democracy came into being, open to Socialists, Communists, anarchists, everyone.
The end of World War II left two superpowers with their respective spheres of influence and control, vying for military and political power. Yet they were unable to control events, even in those parts of the world considered to be their respective spheres of influence.
The failure of the Soviet Union to have its way in Afghanistan, its decision to withdraw after almost a decade of ugly intervention, was the most striking evidence that even the possession of thermonuclear weapons does not guarantee domination over a determined population.
The United States has faced the same reality. It waged a full-scale war in lndochina, conducting the most brutal bombardment of a tiny peninsula in world history, and yet was forced to withdraw. In the headlines every day we see other instances of the failure of the presumably powerful over the presumably powerless, as in Brazil, where a grassroots movement of workers and the poor elected a new president pledged to fight destructive corporate power.
Looking at this catalogue of huge surprises, it's clear that the struggle for justice should never be abandoned because of the apparent overwhelming power of those who have the guns and the money and who seem invincible in their determination to hold on to it.
That apparent power has, again and again, proved vulnerable to human qualities less measurable than bombs and dollars: moral fervor, determination, unity, organization, sacrifice, wit, ingenuity, courage, patience--whether by blacks in Alabama and South Africa, peasants in El Salvador, Nicaragua and Vietnam, or workers and intellectuals in Poland, Hungary and the Soviet Union itself. No cold calculation of the balance of power need deter people who are persuaded that their cause is just.
I have tried hard to match my friends in their pessimism about the world (is it just my friends?), but I keep encountering people who, in spite of all the evidence of terrible things happening everywhere, give me hope. Especially young people, in whom the future rests.
Wherever I go, I find such people. And beyond the handful of activists there seem to be hundreds, thousands, more who are open to unorthodox ideas. But they tend not to know of one another's existence, and so, while they persist, they do so with the desperate patience of Sisyphus endlessly pushing that boulder up the mountain.
I try to tell each group that it is not alone, and that the very people who are disheartened by the absence of a national movement are themselves proof of the potential for such a movement.
Revolutionary change does not come as one cataclysmic moment (beware of such moments!) but as an endless succession of surprises, moving zigzag toward a more decent society. We don't have to engage in grand, heroic actions to participate in the process of change. Small acts, when multiplied by millions of people, can transform the world.
Even when we don't "win," there is fun and fulfillment in the fact that we have been involved, with other good people, in something worthwhile. We need hope.
An optimist isn't necessarily a blithe, slightly sappy whistler in the dark of our time. To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness. What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something.
If we remember those times and places--and there are so many--where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction. And if we do act, in however small a way, we don't have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.
Summary of Why U. S. is in Iraq
Chat With Chomsky
Noam Chomsky chats with Washington Post readers
The Washington Post, March 24, 2006
Arlington, Va.: Why do you think the US went to war against Iraq?
Noam Chomsky: Iraq has the second largest oil reserves in the world, it is right in the midst of the major energy reserves in the world. Its been a primary goal of US policy since World War II (like Britain before it) to control what the State Department called "a stupendous source of strategic power" and one of the greatest material prizes in history. Establishing a client state in Iraq would significantly enhance that strategic power, a matter of great significance for the future. As Zbigniew Brzezinski observed, it would provide the US with "critical leverage" of its European and Asian rivals, a conception with roots in early post-war planning. These are substantial reasons for aggression -- not unlike those of the British when they invaded and occupied Iraq over 80 years earlier, at the dawn of the oil age.
Noam Chomsky chats with Washington Post readers
The Washington Post, March 24, 2006
Arlington, Va.: Why do you think the US went to war against Iraq?
Noam Chomsky: Iraq has the second largest oil reserves in the world, it is right in the midst of the major energy reserves in the world. Its been a primary goal of US policy since World War II (like Britain before it) to control what the State Department called "a stupendous source of strategic power" and one of the greatest material prizes in history. Establishing a client state in Iraq would significantly enhance that strategic power, a matter of great significance for the future. As Zbigniew Brzezinski observed, it would provide the US with "critical leverage" of its European and Asian rivals, a conception with roots in early post-war planning. These are substantial reasons for aggression -- not unlike those of the British when they invaded and occupied Iraq over 80 years earlier, at the dawn of the oil age.
Melody Gardot on NBC10! Show
This woman is very talented, really has soul. I'm so impressed....just discovered her.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Xavier Rudd / Better People
My friend Holly wrote me a lovely message this morning and mentioned she has this song on her mind, it is touching.
Chirgilchin - TUVAN throat singer - HIGH QUALITY!! 2007
very cool -- you can hear multiple points of the vocal chords resonating -- and the melancholy is intense
The Derek Trucks Band 10/28 Nokia Theater
for some sense of something derek trucks can do with a world beat
Thursday, August 9, 2007
My Drawing
My drawing is mostly doodling and cartoon. I play with line and abstraction -- realism is not something I much work toward. I was once intent on realism, and I found a book, "Drawing From the Right Side of the Brain." This book was extremely effective, and involved training yourself to draw an image upside-down, to be sure your eye directly translated line and space to your hand, rather than estimating with glances the way most of us attempt to do when drawing. This method in that book proved to me drawing can be done by anyone with some application and practice. I plan to take my first drawing and painting classes next month. In the meantime, I remain a doodle-dreamer. Here is a self-portrait from those times when there is just too much weighing on my mind. And here are some childlike doodles. Truly anyone can draw. I really feel you have to play. Or then for realism, there is the trained transcription. But what I want to do is both engage my mind and relieve stress. Hope one can continue to do that as they study, learning more.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
This Is Just To Say
This is just to say
I have eaten the plums
that were in the icebox
which you were probably
saving for breakfast.
Forgive me.
They were so delicious,
so sweet
and so cold.
-- William Carlos Williams (circa 1920s)
I have eaten the plums
that were in the icebox
which you were probably
saving for breakfast.
Forgive me.
They were so delicious,
so sweet
and so cold.
-- William Carlos Williams (circa 1920s)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
