L'aura del Campo

Land of Fear. Palenque de Los Alamos.

Images of Spangles and Autumn along Mississippi. Thoughts on the Land of Fear. A beginning sketch of a ghazal. e e cummings and Murakami quotes. An interlude brought to you by Ume from my 'someday' novelette 'Ao Hanada'.

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

AUTUMN: 11 Ilm (26 October)

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

██████ MY THOUGHTS

Is America the 'Land of Fear'?

I don't see a terrorist in every box of Cracker-Jacks. I don't feel frightened by strange aliens when walking down the street at night or tossing in nightmares. But then ... I never felt afraid in a cemetery either. I see beauty there as Garcia Lorca exclaimed "it's the moon, it's the moon, in the courtyard of the dead."

So why are Americans so afraid? Why the anticipation that something bad will happen from the outside? I see America cracking from the inside from issues of racism and sexism and other-isms that are alive and oozing from festuring wounds.

Mexico must be cordoned off with a 'New Alamo Wall' (Palenque de Los Alamos). At a time when Europeans can cross borders more freely, passports will be needed to return from Canada. People still obesess on what OTHER people are doing in bed (as if it is their business). Many so-called Christians are actually adherents of the American Faith eager to condemn others to hell and then war against them to kill them and gloat upon their graves.

So in an editorial a Kansan visiting Toronto states that a Canadian quips that he comes from the 'land of fear'. Yep. A place where Senator Brownbeck is afraid that New Jerseyans might be doing 'IT' and then offending him by being brash enough to ask to be joined in marriage! Where two ministers show up on the University of Kansas campus to tell the students that homosexuals and people who aren't Christian are going to Hell.

Yep. That would be Kansas ... smack dab in the middle of a Land of Fear.

Re Land of Fear: http://www2.ljworld.com/news/2006/oct/26/loss_respect/
Re New Jersey court decision: http://www2.ljworld.com/blogs/kansas_congress/2006/oct/26/marriage/
Re KU incident: http://www2.ljworld.com/news/2006/oct/26/traveling_preachers_messages_cause_stir...

██████ POULTRY? YEP. SHEER POULTRY.

An attempt at a ghazal for Dr M C Gupta 's contest "POETRY IN RHYME - RHYTHM CONTEST-winner" . I wrote it in couplets of 7 syllable lines {I normally like 8-6}. I have four days to edit and tighten it up.

Above the sky, the pain below

As I sow this bitter woe,
is it what I do not know

that makes old-age worth this blow:
falling apart, steady, slow?

Does the youth that once yelled go,
now think thrice and whisper whoa?

When from branches caws the crow
when in pastures cattle low,

neighbors water lawns then mow
farmers plant their crops and hoe

as lamps sputter, lights bestow
and I catch the rainbow's glow,

stone walls answer sad and slow:
to forestall death one must grow

through spring, summer, autumn, snow.
Kåre, this is what I know. [163.396]

"Above the sky, the pain below" 

██████ WEATHER

Drizzle? Think Sun !
Weather where I am: 53º at midnight.
Weather where my mother is: 39º.
Weather in La Paz, Bolivia: 41º.

██████ IMAGES

Along Mississippi Street: fragrant white honeysuckle vine; the crush of juniper; yellow, brown, red-violet leaves; bush honeysuckle laden with red berries; sumac turning orange; yellow, blue pansies; sparrows in the oak; fifteen foot bamboo; variegated maple.

At Spangles: small booths of red and white sparkling plastic; mushrooms, fries, mint; 60s music; album covers on the wall; mist outside.

██████ WRITING

Hmmmm. Sir Duck has decreed that this month's item have to expeirence the emotion of TERROR! My item is a computer mouse ... wonder how Bushy's mousy is feeling these days.

Must write some more scenes from 'Ao Hanada' (subtitled 'dreams of the sea and sky') in anticipation of workshop on Monday.

In the voice of Ume, addressing the reader:

         Have you noticed my blooms? I've waited so long for this moment! My toes have cracked the rock and took some sustenance from there. For three long years I've pushed out leaves to catch the sun to make the sugars that my growing limbs are aching for. They stretch in growing archs. I'm tall enough this winter's end to see that here the path must take a turn, that on the other side a bench-like rock is greeting me. Above us lies a cold clad peak of white, beyond - the blue of sky. But look at me decked out in petals, my purple leafed buds now ready for warmth!

         Sit upon the bench and take a breather from your climb. Look over the valley and your past that lies below you gathered in the mist. Rest without the future thoughts that loom above in clouds. Sit in this present and count each bee that visits my buds. Look at me and feel renewed.

██████ READING

Past page 500 in "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles" by Murakami, but had to return the book to the library because it was ude and on reserve for someone else. I can read a copy at Borders.

"That much is as clear as counting crows on snow." ~ Ushikawa

"... two parents as boring as tree frogs." ~ May Kasahara

Yesterday read some e e cummings.

"A politician is an arse upon
which everyone has sat except a man"

"I'd rather learn from one bird to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance"

██████ MY LIFE

I set the alarm and actually got up. Even made it to my appointment with Susan.

I took the nice walk to Pélathé without my leg or lungs bothering me. (But I'm not well yet. The phlegm is still pale fortunately.)

I managed to read more of Murakami, but didn't finish it. Usually, I sit on the couch and I'm off to la-la-land. Bit more energy today.

Got some wheat bread, rye, and scones. Had rice for lunch. Janice took me and Hub out to **Spangles** for dinner. I don't go to restaurants. $3 for a burger? Ouch.

Went to the coffeehouse tonight and may have drunk a bit too much coffee but I did get to write in my journal and that is important to me.

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