I'm going to get Calvins.
He destroyed my model boat.
I'm going to get him at school.
I want to hit him in the face.
After that, I will bite his arm.
Then I will pull on his hair.
After I beat him to a pulp,
I will stand there and scream.
The other monkeys will be scared.
Then I will jump up and down.
They will all run away.
Even dumb Mr. George will be afraid.
I'll say to him, "Hey, Curious!"
And he will look at me stupidly.
I'll say to him, "You want what Calvins got?"
And he'll run away to that dumb man,
The one with the dumb yellow hat.
And then I'll scream some more, just because I can.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Od of the Kiwi Lux
Always trouble talking about science.
I could have sworn it flashed through my flesh,
The excellent tempest of glaring joy.
The kiwi lit up the sky,
The sky fell down,
The lovely feeling came to me,
And all the white flowers fell face up!
But I suspect the lutulent faces
Came from unclear motives and dark clouds.
Turbid motives considering morbid trust.
But no, it cannot be because
Of the shining that bursts
Forth, with the sun to compare
That most wonderful illumination!
And it must have been Kolya who considered
The transcendence of kiwis.
There's always trouble talking about it.
A stray cat glowed,
Mewing in silence I'd say
Because of the brightness
That pierced holes in the fuzzy sides!
Oh her fur, I swear I never met its warmth.
To say such a thing and to be so brave is to try
To understand the lush green inside.
A kiwi.
The squishy and the green,
The envious circled me,
When I beheld the light of the kiwi!
Magnetically drawn to such a tremendous lamp.
Mesmerized by the sight of her laugh,
Realizing that I was yet to hear it around.
It must have been
A Palamon complex,
An Emily lost,
A legislative rule to be written!
I heard him say, "This is science, after all;
You get caught up in administration and paperwork."
I just wanted to play, or sleep.
Lucid arrows break away
From the kiwi's
Inner formal laurels,
Just in time for my storm-darkened eyes!
The foot of the candle swirls around my head.
The flinching of the catacomb's shadows
Was proof enough that the end had not yet come.
A miracle in essence,
A very small tree,
A kiwi,
It exploded into infinite particles of light!
"It's impossible at best!" I would have claimed,
Had I been in a cloudy Torino night.
My luminous face was proof enough by now.
You had to swim through it, friend,
Feel it touch your skin,
To understand
That science can't comprehend kiwi poetry!
I could have sworn it flashed through my flesh,
The excellent tempest of glaring joy.
The kiwi lit up the sky,
The sky fell down,
The lovely feeling came to me,
And all the white flowers fell face up!
But I suspect the lutulent faces
Came from unclear motives and dark clouds.
Turbid motives considering morbid trust.
But no, it cannot be because
Of the shining that bursts
Forth, with the sun to compare
That most wonderful illumination!
And it must have been Kolya who considered
The transcendence of kiwis.
There's always trouble talking about it.
A stray cat glowed,
Mewing in silence I'd say
Because of the brightness
That pierced holes in the fuzzy sides!
Oh her fur, I swear I never met its warmth.
To say such a thing and to be so brave is to try
To understand the lush green inside.
A kiwi.
The squishy and the green,
The envious circled me,
When I beheld the light of the kiwi!
Magnetically drawn to such a tremendous lamp.
Mesmerized by the sight of her laugh,
Realizing that I was yet to hear it around.
It must have been
A Palamon complex,
An Emily lost,
A legislative rule to be written!
I heard him say, "This is science, after all;
You get caught up in administration and paperwork."
I just wanted to play, or sleep.
Lucid arrows break away
From the kiwi's
Inner formal laurels,
Just in time for my storm-darkened eyes!
The foot of the candle swirls around my head.
The flinching of the catacomb's shadows
Was proof enough that the end had not yet come.
A miracle in essence,
A very small tree,
A kiwi,
It exploded into infinite particles of light!
"It's impossible at best!" I would have claimed,
Had I been in a cloudy Torino night.
My luminous face was proof enough by now.
You had to swim through it, friend,
Feel it touch your skin,
To understand
That science can't comprehend kiwi poetry!
Friday, August 6, 2010
Draw, Golden Pure Ghost
Go to the altar where the blood falls
Draw the hearts
Rip all the paper
Be alarmed for every burning tree.
Wasting time on worthless novels
Finding the goddess
The shadow falls
I recall a day when the air was sweet.
Everything I have I don't understand
Where love is now
With the final fight
Draw the line, I'll watch the dark horse.
For pretty hair or for naught
Knees to the ground
Draw the hearts
With all the blood that fell on my head.
In my hands I hold cups of blood
Doing nothing
My feet too pretty
I remember when the water tasted like grace.
I have every chance to educate myself
The flowers found
Nothing was found
I want to do more than survive.
I remember when everything was sweet
Make it clean
Make it clean
When golden pure bursts the sun.
Find someone to love and to shake
Everyone knows
What we don't say
Bloody, ghosts, curtains torn, draw the hearts.
Draw the hearts
Rip all the paper
Be alarmed for every burning tree.
Wasting time on worthless novels
Finding the goddess
The shadow falls
I recall a day when the air was sweet.
Everything I have I don't understand
Where love is now
With the final fight
Draw the line, I'll watch the dark horse.
For pretty hair or for naught
Knees to the ground
Draw the hearts
With all the blood that fell on my head.
In my hands I hold cups of blood
Doing nothing
My feet too pretty
I remember when the water tasted like grace.
I have every chance to educate myself
The flowers found
Nothing was found
I want to do more than survive.
I remember when everything was sweet
Make it clean
Make it clean
When golden pure bursts the sun.
Find someone to love and to shake
Everyone knows
What we don't say
Bloody, ghosts, curtains torn, draw the hearts.
Monday, June 21, 2010
How Good Is Change?
Well, change can be good. When you go from a state of worse to a state of better, then change seems to be something that everyone can gladly envision. Change, it seems to me, is derived from a hope for a certain outcome. When something is harmed or weak or in a state of disarray, we may have a confident expectation that it is healed, made strong, and set in order. This is our hope, and it can lead to change. But we are still left to consider, whether we like it or not, the consequences of change.
Change for the sake of change is never a worthwhile task. Sure, when something is broken, it needs to be fixed, but it must be fixed the right way. If it is changed from one state of brokenness to another state of brokenness, then nothing has been accomplished. In fact, it is likely that further harm has been done during the shift. Suppose you have a man lying on the ground with some broken ribs. He has been hurt and can barely move himself, and until more help arrives, you are the only one there to help him. While you try to comfort him in his agony, you notice that the man is laying on a hard dirt surface, and so you think he might be more comfortable over a little ways on a nice patch of grass you see. So what do you do? Do you grab him by the legs and drag him over to the grass so that he can have a slight bit more comfort as he lays there is pain? No, I think not. The process of moving him from the hard dirt to the patch of grass would cause far greater pain and discomfort for him than the comfort gained from being on the grass. It is like this with change, if done in a careless matter.
Perhaps I might say that in my time in this world, as I’ve moved about to different places, seen different things, I’ve begun to wonder why it is that people get so excited about change. When man puts his hand to change, it is something to be done carefully, not recklessly. If we have hope for something better, then there is no reason for worry. Change will come, and may even come swiftly in our lives, but it is not something we should look to without understanding what it means. Change for the sake of change is not good, and neither is changing without knowing why. It’s nothing to get excited about unless you know for certain that it’s going to work, whether you have a hand in it or not.
Change for the sake of change is never a worthwhile task. Sure, when something is broken, it needs to be fixed, but it must be fixed the right way. If it is changed from one state of brokenness to another state of brokenness, then nothing has been accomplished. In fact, it is likely that further harm has been done during the shift. Suppose you have a man lying on the ground with some broken ribs. He has been hurt and can barely move himself, and until more help arrives, you are the only one there to help him. While you try to comfort him in his agony, you notice that the man is laying on a hard dirt surface, and so you think he might be more comfortable over a little ways on a nice patch of grass you see. So what do you do? Do you grab him by the legs and drag him over to the grass so that he can have a slight bit more comfort as he lays there is pain? No, I think not. The process of moving him from the hard dirt to the patch of grass would cause far greater pain and discomfort for him than the comfort gained from being on the grass. It is like this with change, if done in a careless matter.
Perhaps I might say that in my time in this world, as I’ve moved about to different places, seen different things, I’ve begun to wonder why it is that people get so excited about change. When man puts his hand to change, it is something to be done carefully, not recklessly. If we have hope for something better, then there is no reason for worry. Change will come, and may even come swiftly in our lives, but it is not something we should look to without understanding what it means. Change for the sake of change is not good, and neither is changing without knowing why. It’s nothing to get excited about unless you know for certain that it’s going to work, whether you have a hand in it or not.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)