Tag Archives: English degrees mean squat

I’ve been mixing the streams!

I have a half day off to study for my personal insurance exam, and I’ve finished the practice exam. I’m in pretty good shape overall, but combined with the spiritual work I’ve been doing lately, it’s leading to some odd stray thoughts.

Like a good homeowners policy is like the Agathos Daimon, and my premiums are a proper sacrifice.

Which of course has now lead to me singing, “Like your Agathos Daimon, State Farm is there!”


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Posted by on March 8, 2012 in Uncategorized


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Poetry Monday: Memorial Day for the War Dead by Yehuda Amichai

Longstanding tradition for me, to post this poem somewhere on Memorial Day. It hits me more every year.

Memorial Day for the War Dead
by Yehuda Amichai

Memorial day for the war dead. Add now
the grief of all your losses to their grief,
even of a woman that has left you. Mix
sorrow with sorrow, like time-saving history,
which stacks holiday and sacrifice and mourning
on one day for easy, convenient memory.

Oh, sweet world soaked, like bread,
in sweet milk for the terrible toothless God.
“Behind all this some great happiness is hiding.”
No use to weep inside and to scream outside.
Behind all this perhaps some great happiness is hiding.

Memorial day. Bitter salt is dressed up
as a little girl with flowers.
The streets are cordoned off with ropes,
for the marching together of the living and the dead.
Children with a grief not their own march slowly,
like stepping over broken glass.

The flautist’s mouth will stay like that for many days.
A dead soldier swims above little heads
with the swimming movements of the dead,
with the ancient error the dead have
about the place of the living water.

A flag loses contact with reality and flies off.
A shopwindow is decorated with
dresses of beautiful women, in blue and white.
And everything in three languages:
Hebrew, Arabic, and Death.

A great and royal animal is dying
all through the night under the jasmine
tree with a constant stare at the world.

A man whose son died in the war walks in the street
like a woman with a dead embryo in her womb.
“Behind all this some great happiness is hiding.”

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Posted by on May 30, 2011 in Uncategorized


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Poetry Monday, “Forest”

Everyone needs theme days, right? Monday can be for poetry, for poetry is awesome. I’m going to start with one of my own, but I will never limit it to my own.

I wrote this for a creative writing class in college, and it was my workshop piece. I have about a bajillion different versions because of it, and this is the least pretentious of them:

The Forest

The first time I went into the forest,
I rode in my brothers pickup truck.
Farmland, quietly growing with life
that persists even in the crisp air hanging
like a ghost, rocketed past.

Wild grass grew where there wasn’t.
Before man, before beast,
this earth was a spectrum of green reds.
An ancient world,
which we only see the surface

We drove into that forest.
Trees grew close together like swarms
of gnats in the light.
The world grew smaller intricate
until the branches lace work
embraced the sky.

And then
we stopped

I stepped into a world not been touched by the plow,
never knowing the torture
cruel coldness of concrete.
Denial of self,
mortals making their mark.

I took off my shoes and felt the singing dirt beneath my feet.
life beat
between my toes
taking root and
marrying me to this earth

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Posted by on August 30, 2010 in Uncategorized


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