L'aura del Campo

Clean up. Blues at the midnight café.

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███████          L'aura del campo           ███████

SUMMER: 19 Kamal (19 August)

'é a lua,  Ã© a lua,  na quintana dos mortos'
♣    Federico García Lorca    ♣

Clean up today

There comes a point when college students feel like your younger brother or sister and you truly think they are 'so young'. After awhile they could be your nieces or nephews, and finally your own children and you want to tell them what life is all about and be a guide. At some stage they are more like grand-children and you wonder why they seem so young when you haven't aged ... much. And they can be confidants and friends in a way their real parents would envy if they ever found out. Ah ... the passage of time brings this all about.

We had a clean-up day with a big bus load of students.

I met a senior from Southern California who is a Marine. Two young ladies from smaller cities: Emporia and Coffeyville. A young man from Shawnee Mission.

Out of 40, only one or two knew how to garden and the gender difference was oh-so-obvious. I swear they had no clue what a garden or a tomato plant was. A couple were in awe of our pumpkins! I warned them about the blister beetles. Should I have?

My question ... how can a university produce the leaders of tomorrow when the mass of its students have absolutely no clue about the real natural world around them. Most of these kids come from the suburbs, born with a cell-phone up their ass. I mean ... if they only know that tomatoes grow shrink-wrapped in plastic and babies are born cooing in a blanket, how can they be expected to know or understand how their forefathers or people in third-world countries possibly live? How will their policies and actions negatively impact the poor of this country that at this point in their life is invisible to them. Perhaps if they were to learn the lesson of mud, sweat and weeds, they would begin to understand the land of the living that they live in.

████████████ Sizzling? Think cool !
████████████ Weather where I am: 83º, in the afternoon.
████████████ Weather in Orlando, Florida: 87º where Andrew is.
████████████ Weather in Malmö, Sverige: 70º so much for the heat!
████████████ Weather in Manila, Philipines: 75º at night.
████████████ Weather in Mesa, Arizona: 104º and 14% humidity.

IMAGES

Along Seventh Street:

Pink naked ladies; broken brick; a weather-vane; cicadas singing; shed leaves of the sycamore; sticky almost velvety surface of a redbud leaf; a young oak tree with ONE acorn, knee high; dark green trim on a yellow stone house; a yellow nine year old lab with a stick begging to play toss; a four year old black lab on a leash; rudbeckia in yellow; arborvitae hedge; monarch butterflies; brick street; rumble of a truck with a trailer; a dying cedar tree; grape vines; a 'pirate ship' up in a tree; a red lantern lit.

MY LIFE

Tired. Stayed up a bit last night. After 1 a.m. Drained would be a better word for it. I'm falling asleep doing this entry.

Slowly getting through the complete poems of Richard Hugo. His 'rock and stone' poems about Italy give a feeling of place and person. And I like that.

Here in town two friends were generous and totally out of the blue gave me a total of $70. I immediately went and got me a bowl of ice cream, 'Kansas Twister', a mix of peanut butter, oreos and whatever at Sylas and Maddies. Oh ... the pain of it.

Believe me, I didn't ask for money. I never ask unless I am totally desparate. I remember asking in Tulsa one night so I could get home. Still embarasses me to remember. As a kid I learned to just do without. I'm used to doing without.

POETRY? YOU CALL THIS POETRY?

Blues at the midnight café

Blue stars and the waft of a fan,
this chatter that numbs me to thoughts
of red wagons and lowly wood blocks,
the sunflower I once sat down on.

Blue neon, the breeze from a fan,
these youth that remind me I ought
to be past: the blue car I
peddled through snow, presents
I once wrapped then unwrapped.

Blue walls and the slow moving fan,
the noise of the crowd draws me out
from the memories of struggles that hurt,
of innocence long ago lost.

Blue eyes and the waft of a breeze.
Blue eyes, and the mirror of loss. [163.301]

BLOGVILLE

Many thanks to the folks at WDC who came and visited my blog this past week. My most recent poll "Hermaphrodite exposed at death."  has 400 views and 34 votes. The comments made the poll worth doing and the various opinions are appreciated. There is always more than one way of looking at things. One thing I do suspect ... the closer one is to an issue, the stronger the reaction.

Because Jeanne was a Kansan, a Ponca, a woman whose sexuality was not convenient for others, an alcoholic, a rough tough 'street biker broad', those who identified with some aspect of her life were perhaps most incensed. I would again gently suggest that it is easier to be detached when one has not been marginalized or demonized by society. Those who have been or have seen a close friend and or family member struggle with a precarious existence find it harder to step back that far.

Jeannie was an unforgettable person. She evoked strong reactions in most everyone who met her, especially in the last few years when the alcoholism and physical illness became more pronounced. On her good days she was a loyal friend. On her bad days one stayed out of reach of her attitude. She always had her knife on her and as she would say when asked, gruff voiced with a serious look, eyes twinkling, arms outstretched "it is thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis big!"

Jeannie New Moon made us laugh and cry and question the purpose of life.

I made the poem for Jeannie a separate item because AL told me too. See, I can listen and follow directions when I choose (not often ).

In the last week I've been blessed with gifts. The sig from SilverValkyre loves YOU! was beautiful, the c-note from PastVoices touching and I even got a nice little Merit Badge from Nada for Journaling . She should have given me the one for 'Spleen and Angst" I even received a gift of gift points. A LOT OF GIFT POINTS ... anonymously, of course. So who do I thank if not everyone?

Today's colors: plum, brown and orange are brought to you by andrew . He did an entry in this color scheme and I just had to follow his lead.

TREASURE OF THE DAY

'So you pray
To the god of your choice.

"Please dear Guilt loosen your grip."'

frÃ¥n: "Invalid Item" , AL