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What a tumultuous year it has been. Karen died. Betty K died. Denise and I broke up. I gave two weeks’ notice at work and then moved to Phoenix. Dorine died. Anne Meara died. B.B. King died. I lost about fifteen pounds. And Bruce is now Caitlyn.

But one bright spot is that I now have a genuine, just-like-high-school Steady Girlfriend. Her name is the title, and acrostic, of this sonnet. And here’s a shout-out to Judith Lynne Cameron, my Aunt Judy, who as long ago as March suggested I write Joy a poem. This is it!

joy riner taylor 060315

Joy Riner Taylor

Just asked this Glendale girl if she’d go Steady
O what a thrill ’twas when she answered Yes
You see, she’s fun as handfuls of confetti

Religious yet unjudging–I confess
I want to go to church with her, but fear it
Not due to Hellfire–rather to embarrassment
Ecclesiates ROCKS, and in its spirit
Religion’s nothing new–yet neither’s harassment

Thus courting Joy involves a change of scenery
And serendipitous improvisation
Young love will never see such ever-greenery
LUST is all well & good–still, mere sensation
Omits the richness found if spirits blend
Regard the beauty of this WONDROUS FRIEND.

Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.” –Robert A. Heinlein

My friend from the Philippines, Marlyn Exconde, just challenged me, thus:

  • Write about love using only 10 lines.
  • Use “love” in every line.
  • Each line can only be 4 words long.
  • Nominate 10 or so others who are up for the challenge.
  • Let them know about the challenge.
  • Title the post, Love in Ten Lines 
  • Include a quote about love

*****

love in ten lines

they who love truly–
with a heartfelt love–
dispense that love willingly,
without reciprocal love required.

love is radiant waveforms.
love is not shakedowns.

love is wishing well;
love returned freely, priceless.

love may seem “lost,”
but LOVE waves–always.

*****

As for nominating ten or so to do this challenge, I nominate S., G., M., K., B., C., A., D., J., and F. If you’ve read this far, and your first name begins with one of those letters, consider yourself nominated! 🙂

farewell o farewell

though an atheist and nonbeliever in the hereafter
isaac asimov titled the chapter in his autobiography
that detailed his father judah’s death
“farewell to my father”

perhaps isaac the son was paying peculiar respects
acting as if he believed because he knew his father had believed

farewell is a nice command
and it’s natural to toss it around
though the meaning is warped in the tossing

the everly brothers sang “bye bye love”
which strictly speaking means
“god be with you god be with you love”

or even more strictly speaking means
“may god be with you may god be with you love”
giving it the subjunctive
out of respect for god
who is beyond human command

i have slowly been farewelling a profound love affair
to wish it to fare well is honest
however unrealistic

There’s this great Bob Dylan song whose title is repeated four times in its forthright chorus, thus:

I Want You
I Want You
I Want You
So bad
Honey, I Want You.

In its image-rich first verse there is reference to Silver Saxophones, thus:

The silver saxophones say I
Should refuse you . . .

Everything on the page I just made followed. It may be flavored by my recent partnerlessness (notice, for instance, how the word WANT is emphasized), but hey, so many love & longing songs have been fueled by such. I wonder if Mr. Dylan’s song had such roots. The Truth is out there, no doubt, but let’s find out later, if at all.

i want you 022815

Here are the words to the triple acrostic:

Idle wallowing won’t play
If we’re wishing woo today
If that candlelight won’t do
Inch & pinch & bill & coo
Itches scratched may be très fou

TRIVIA: In the film BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY’S, Holly Golightly uses the phrase “très fou,” thus: “I suppose you think I’m very brazen or très fou or something.” It means Quite Crazy.

HISTORICAL NOTE: The movie 50 SHADES OF GREY is currently playing in theatres around the world.

tarot cards 022315

Once upon a time in the late 70s, a classmate of mine brought a few of her Persian friends to the house I was raised in. It was that evening that the innocent, wet-behind-the-geopolitical-ears Bowers family learned of unrest in Iran, and got a hint of the misdeeds of the soon-to-be-deposed Shah and his Gestapo-like secret police. Some time later came what we came to call the “Hostage Crisis,” which much later came to be the springboard of Ben Affleck’s excellent ARGO.

That same evening one of the Persian gentlemen entertained many of us by giving Tarot Card readings. I waited patiently for mine, but alas, the gentleman grew too tired to continue before he got to me.

As the years went by, every so often I’d pass a house with PSYCHIC glowing in neon in one of the front windows. I never quite gumptioned up to go in–not that I put stock in the existence of psychic phenomena, you understand. No, I was sure it was “For Entertainment Value Only”–but I thought it would be a kick, and would also scratch the itch I got that evening at the Bowers residence.

Flash forward thirty-some years. I shuttled myself up to Camp Verde for a low-expectations lunch date with my now-former (sigh) Sweetheart, Denise. After a fine plate of Mexican food at a mom-and-pop called La Fonda, and a brief reunion with the critters I’d left behind when I left Cottonwood, Denise and I took a stroll in Old Town and stopped in a bookstore . . .

. . . and in the bookstore, up on a little platform, was a table and chairs and a sign offering Tarot Card readings. I sat in one of the chairs. Denise went elsewhere in the bookstore. Soon a woman arrived, beatific smile, close-cropped hair with a bit of gray on the sides, and introduced herself: Stone Constance Veritas. Solidity Everlastingness Truth–what a name!

As she riffled her well-worn Tarot deck, she gave me an overview. She would begin with a prayer. She would be using the words “abracadabra” and “hallelujah.” She would use a pendulum when she had yes-or-no questions, calling on “Loving Spirit” for the answer. She also valued the presence of Mary, and I think though am not sure that she meant the Virgin of Guadalupe version.

After the prayer, which if memory serves asked Loving Spirit for guidance, and the thrice-repeated Abracadabra (and here’s a brief but fascinating discussion of that numinous word, courtesy of Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abracadabra ) and Hallelujah, the cards were dealt, with a six-card plus-sign shape on the left and a sixteen-card four-by-four array on the right.

Death showed up right away, ending up in the middle of the plus sign. The Hermit and The Emperor flanked Death. There was also a thrice-stabbed heart, a lot of sticks, a lot of cups, and some geometric-looking crawlies that reminded me of Jack Kirby’s drawings of the Mole Man’s subterranean minions. (My monumental ignorance of Tarot cards is now evident.)

Stone was gracious enough to let me take this picture, of her and the array:

stone 022015

(In my “Tarot Cards” acrostic/drawing at top, you’ll see a really sketchy version of this photo in the middle.)

Stone was quick to assure me that Death symbolizes Transformation. A seed gives up its life, and Life is the result. And elsewhere in the array, she found that a meditation of where I was and where I needed to go was important, and that the pursuit of my calling would result; that healing would occur if a bereft person was consoled; that patience was all-important and that “Ego interferes with Love.”

I enjoyed her company immensely. The psychic connection she may or may not have was irrelevant: like the astrologer Madame Vesant, also known as Becky Vesey, that Robert Heinlein created for his game-changing STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND, Stone is wise and good with advice, and uses the arcane medium as a tuning fork to fit the wisdom she has to the person she’s counseling. Whether her spirit guides exist exclusively in her imagination, or visit her from the vast Elsewhere, she puts them to good use. I would rather consult her than a psychiatrist, I think. Luckily I don’t need a psychiatrist–or do I? 🙂

Here are the words to the acrostic:

The symbols are complex yet basic
A primality laces the arcana
Reshuffling focus to arrayed order
Oracularly direct if a bit absurd
Truth sometimes uses odd routes

The gentleman of color was playing his guitar outside the Walgreen’s. Instead of a guitar case to put contributions to his busking, he had a gourd-shaped woven basket. He also had a sign affirming his service as a member of the U. S. Marine Corps, adding “Semper Fi” and “God Bless.”

I went into the Walgreen’s and got some cash at the Chase ATM, bought a Diet Pepsi, and went back outside. The guitarist was wrapping up Billy Joel’s “Piano Man,” with a good melody line and easy-listening riffs. I put a dollar of my change in his basket and when he was done with “Piano Man” I asked him if he took requests.

“Whatcha got?”

“How about ‘Just My Imagination’?”

Pause. “How’s it go?”

[rusty a capella] “I WAIT at my WINDow I WATCH her as she passes by . . .” At the very end of my sorry recital he got a gleam of recognition. “Yeah, I think I’ve heard that one. Tell you what–you sing and I’ll play.”

Well, I walked into that one, all right. “All right.”

It might help to know that I don’t list Singing amongst my talents. I can sing only under ideal conditions, which include being surrounded by a shower stall, no one else listening, and only using the best of at least six takes. But he asked for it.

People entering the store seemed to be hurrying to get inside. People leaving the store seemed to be hurrying away. But it might have been “Just My Imagination.” But it felt good. But if it had been camcorded, I think there were ten seconds or so where we both sounded really good. And at the end I felt like a million bucks.

I shook his hand and said I hoped to see him again. With a slight smile he said, “Oh yeah, you will.”

*****

I thought of doing an artist’s conception of that performance. But after I took pencil, stump and eraser to paper, I had a Better Not moment, and this ended up on paper instead:

nvd 021515

0213152301-00~2~2~2~2

This is the first Valentine’s Day since 1988 that I wasn’t part of a couple. Naturally I feel a little strange. The strangeness transliterates into the above page.

valentine-ku for the once-loved

the hole in the heart
is another heart. it makes
sense and yet doesn’t.

Better times are ahead, though, Friends. Happy Valentine’s Day to all!

002

Merry Christmas and Peace and Love to all who read these words, be you Christian or otherwise (I’m an Otherwise myself). May we all see a better year ahead.

Velvet Dreams

Vexacious times wear Trouble like a beard
Vicissitudes cause wars, most undeclared
Enchantments give a wish a wheel to steer
Events make crosses children borne must bear
Lieutenancies emerge in Fate’s fell spate
Love’s touch lends voice to scent we taste & see
Legalities help predators predate
Voracious carnivores still spare the pea
Victorious survivors sport the stoma
Ventricular caprice makes tragic trauma
Entranced botanicals enjoy the loam
Enhanced mechanicks find a shop & glom
The SATINED VISIONS steer us through the isthmus
Then make(s) The Presence present(s) here/now/Christmas

Note: “vexacious” and “mechanicks” are deliberate misspellings. They would drive my younger self crazy. I refer him, and you, to the “extended play” version of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s famous quotation about foolish consistency:

“A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day. — ‘Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.’ — Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.”

This post is inspired by Stephen Bishop’s song “On and On,” taking its title from one of its lyrics. Two other lyrical sections of the song are also quoted.

The song has stuck in my head for nearly forty years; I like it but it haunts me. I like the rarity of a man singing about a man crying who is not the man himself.  I also like its singer/songwriter, Stephen Bishop, who was billed “Cool Guy With Guitar” in the landmark comedy ANIMAL HOUSE. He was the one whose guitar was smashed to pieces by John Belushi’s Bluto, who handed the severed neck back to him with a sincere but I-had-to “Sorry.”

Toss Up My Heart words:

001

Though they’ll have Tito Puente there’ll be an empty seat at Hialeah
Of the 600 outmunitioned almost all died in Crimea
Such odd haphazard history may have you ask What For
Seek ye serendipity becomes my soul’s retort

See Where It Lands words:

Swollen willows weep–it’s offal
Section Eights have FILLED Golgotha
Every time stuff hits the fan
Each soul tries to understand
Evanescence–drifting sands

This morning Denise told me something that inspired first the acrostic bookends and then the words within them. This page and this post, therefore, are dedicated to her, with my love.

002

Throwing guidebooks in the trash
Rids us of the “have-to” cache
Useful more to sense our aura
Eminent as one adorer
Safe within that two-souled breast
There will grow our Fearlessness