Everything Else Now Should Come Easy.

Sit down for a few minutes, turn off the TV, close your laptop–wait, don’t do that, just close your YouTube or Hulu windows–take a sip of Sumatra, and relax.

Pretend like you’re reading this out loud in your head, perform for yourself silently and savor each liquid word.

Malcolm Alexander

BEGINNER’S LESSON

If you wish to be wealthy, duck beneath
the topcoat of a well-dressed river
until you come up with a mossy boot
filled with shiners. Spend them wisely.

To tread lightly on the earth,
first breathe in and out slowly
to sense how oxygen walks barefoot,
then observe butterflies, so weightless
even our poetry burdens them.

Avoid mistaking sadness for blueberries,
but if this happens, remember only one
of the two tastes like a somersault.

Make nothing more of the moon
than what it is, a great big pebble
hunting for a shoe, not to be confused
with the heart, likewise a vagabond.

Inside of every stray cat lurks a person
who discarded love. Remember this
when you bend over to wind them up.

If you feel compelled to fly a flag,
note how it struggles in vain to be a rainbow
and how envy will make it twist and flap
like a tongue. Consider instead a kite.

If you desire to reach heaven,
have your body buried in an aspen grove.
In time, all of you will wick up
into a loud version of it.

If the noise of the human world overwhelms you,
trace the voicebox of an orchid with your finger.
When you get to the aria, listen.
But beware, for beauty can be a lacewing
or a meteor, and lands wherever it pleases.

When you finish reading a poem,
bend it around so you can see
yourself in it. Then laugh out loud.
Everything else now should come easy.

—2006 Rattle Poetry Prize, Honorable Mention

Now, have a good day 🙂

Something that Made me Cry a Bit

As I was driving to school one morning down the tiny, and often poetically foggy, Highway M, I heard an especially interesting and emotional story. It was Friday, so NPR’s “Morning Edition” was sharing pieces from “StoryCorps,” a group of journalists that go around the country in search of real American narratives in short form.

This piece, titled “A Love That Defied A Cancer Diagnosis,” could be misplaced as a sappy pre-teen paperback, but I assure you there is no cliche in the emotion. Take a listen here, or read (but I highly recommend hearing the story told by its real-life protagonist).

I Can Get Behind That

I recently picked up William Shatner’s album from 2004 “Has Been” upon a friend’s recommendation. My experiences with ol’ Billy Shatsky (as I like to refer to him) were previously limited to reruns of Star Trek, Priceline ads and spots for Boston Legal. The cover art is fitting, a picture of Shatner neck up with a hand covering his face in the pseudo-shame of a true has been. The title track doesn’t come until you’re mostly through the album, but it plays tongue-in-cheek into the ironic concept of hasbeendome and those who would give Bill such a label.

Some songs–and I would call them songs, as lacking in singing as they are–are avant garde amalgamations of Gene Roddenberry sci-fi and the Beatnik oral poetry of Allen Ginsberg in the strangest way. The songs are rich in confession and complex emotions being dealt with in a surprisingly casual way. One track, “That’s Me Trying” is a letter of apology to his daughter for being an absent father. While it could sound like the sadder cousin of “Butterfly Kisses,” (cheesy, overdone, and trite) it is much more akin to songs like Ben Folds’s “Still Fighting It,” a song about growing up written for his son; but maybe that song comes more easily to mind because Shatner borrows Folds’s voice for the chorus.

There’s a surprising amount of emotion in this album–and humor too! I think what I like best about it is the blending of the two. The authentic combination of humor and heartfelt emotion, though they seem to me inseparable, is the seminole mark of success in any artistic medium. Maybe that’s the curse of the eternal optimist, seeing the good in everything means finding ways to lament through a laugh and to chuckle quietly at a tear shed. Shatner’s album isn’t earth-shaking or grammy worthy (although that’s almost an insult anymore for most genres–the Grammy part) but its audacity, eccentricity, and stark likeability are just what every wordsmith, lyricist, actor or singer could hope for in an expression.

Here are a few gems along the album’s lines of humor:

The Shatner WoW commercial

1978 Rendition of Sir Elton John’s Rocket Man

100 Members on the Facebook Group!

I posted on the Facebook group wall that I’d do something crazy to celebrate crossing the century mark in membership and I always follow through with my promises. I hit up MS Paint ( why use Photoshop?) right away to create the masterpiece before you. I borrowed a frame from the brilliantly written and inked Doom comic book homage from the mid-nineties. A fitting tribute to myself I think.

Be sure to Join the group yourself if you’re on Facebook 🙂

In the meantime, I’ll be working on the new domain over at www.thespigot.net which you can feel free to check out anytime (if you aren’t already there). I’ll be posting on both pages from now on.

I See the Moon

At a Red Light Where No One Waits

Even after years of church,
I see the prayers
I have not prayed,
not the ones to come
later on,
but rather those meditations
of my heart
that I did not speak
with closed dark eyes
hands folded out of habit.

I see them in a crosswalk
not walked across
and at a red light
where no one waits.

I see them in tea leaves
steeped and sipped
but not Seen.

They live in the wood body
of a guitar in my closet
whose diaphragm waits taut
for breath so it may sing again.

They live in O and N
on a damp window pane,
where lips were near
and love is vain.

Brb, lolz

Ok folks, there will be a slight drought for a few days in my posting. I’ll be starting my student teaching cycle at Republic High School tomorrow so I’ll have my hands full for a bit. In my stead I leave you all this video of a ridiculously cute Corgi puppy because I know it will leave you in tears until I return. 🙂

China’s Clarion Call

I got a little bit of flack from people for my unabashed hope for the Olympic Games in Beijing. New controversies seem to be uncovered every few hours with regards to judging, age restrictions in events, the opening ceremony displays, and let’s not forget human rights on the continent.

I just wanted to take a few lines to express what I was trying to focus on. I understand that there are many problems with the Chinese government’s actions in the past and certainly some that continue today. They are rigorous about control, I think that is apparent. In a country that promised uncensored internet access during the games, they have fallen short by a lot for both their own citizens as well as visiting journalists and spectators.

People have pointed out other issues to me as well to mention: genocide in Darfur, the war in Iraq, Iranian nuclear ambitions, and the Georgian conflicts with Russia. These events are all tragically being reported on (if at all) in the shadow of the Games.

I suppose I expected that readers here are aware of those conflicts and issues of global importance in general. I really wanted to sound a call to people to find the light in dark times, to search out specs of good intention in the grimy clouds of controversy surrounding Beijing. We know that China has a lot of work to do before they can be considered a truly modern nation in terms of their governance and diplomacy.

However, why would they continue along such a path when they are allowed no verbal praise for good deeds? Should we not inspire a nation to strive for a positive global image? Certainly no one thinks that the US, Great Britain, or any other major world power has it all figured out. As long as progress is made continually, I urge continued praise for the best and criticism of the worst of China’s efforts.

No, I don’t want to encourage countries to put walls up hiding their impoverished, nor to neglect children who are not cute or talented enough to represent their country. I truly hope that such actions are exposed as wrongful and wiped from the list of acceptable choices by a country. That cannot go unsaid. Voices of dissent should not be silenced by any government if they seek a genuine resolution peacefully.

My great hope for these Games is that they are remembered events that brought people together, and even in the face of many conflicts, inspired change. Watch the events. Watch the athletes cheer one another on, give hugs, look into each others’ eyes and give respect in winning, losing, or whatever, and look into your own life to find a way to do the same in some small way.

Maybe China’s global image is like its tiny singer. The facade will be stripped away during these weeks, leaving the less polished face of a nation in deep desire for change to emerge and sound its own voice from within. I hope I’m not alone in my optimistic awareness, because more often I find that such attitudes are in shorter supply than oil, corn, or other valuable natural resources.

Politics and the Coffee Pot

Percolating

I wake up in the morning
and the coffee brewing
sounds like Tony Blair
in a long grey tunnel
repeating the word “bottle”

in his distinguished brown
British accent.
But covered in hot grounds,
he cannot finish his thought
aloud. We are stuck wondering

what came before “bottle”
and what may have filled
it. Perhaps, a political bottle-
neck metaphor as we approach
election. Or maybe bottle-

caps littering the street
of the not-so-green London.
I see green bottles high up
on my shelf in a line
like soldiers guarding

the dishes and cups
reminding me of joyous nights
past. Some emptied more
hastily than others.
Now I await eagerly to drain

the pot with a burnt crust
ringed forever at its bottom
and I chuckle at the thought
of my diplomatic dark roast
as my eyes open slowly.