No changes, the same
secrets hiding somewhere down
the path to my soul
I sit, afraid, torn
what does it mean to be so
frightened to know you
Why after all this
time do the same demons come
to haunt me, my love
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Haiku Triptych-Haunted
No changes, the same
secrets hiding somewhere down
the path to my soul
I sit, afraid, torn
what does it mean to be so
frightened to know you
Why after all this
time do the same demons come
to haunt me, my love
Friday, January 30, 2009
I Saw Her
I saw her alone
about to step off the edge
of her life
A life left behind
in search of some
sort of peace
To quiet the storm
raging inside her soul
This was oddly inspired by an NPR story about Andrea Yates. The story kept going through my head until I sort of understood what she was trying to say about what she had done to her children. In her mind, she was saving them from something that she imagined was worse than killing them. As a voyuer of others' lives, I found it interesting to try and get inside her head but kind of scary.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Words
There is a certain power to words that is often not addressed, the power of words not spoken. These words are the most misunderstood and underestimated words in all the world.
Haven't you ever wished you told someone how you really feel or felt the sting of wishing someone would utter the right thing at the right moment only to never have it happen? Or sat on the couch while the person next to you doesn't hear a word you've said and when they say "what?", you say "Nothing"?
There are no more words to express what I feel now, having opened myself up to find my feelings rebuked and belittled. And yet, a few simple words could save me, a few measly bon mots to soothe my troubled spirit but this is not a gift I will receive. So inexpensive, so perfectly fitting yet never once given and certainly never when I need it the most.
Which makes me feel alone in my love. More attention, more words being shared, given to others and none left for me and no time spent with the words I've tried to give you. So be careful or you will simply be a cunning linguist alone with nothing but your empty words.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
I Have A Dream by Martin Luther King Jr
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Afraid?
You can bang your head against my world
Knock me around
to silence me
You can call your cops
You can slam my head in your door
to make me scream
Why don't you want me to be heard?
Why don't you want me to be
Why are you so afraid
of someone like me?
You can stick a sock in my mouth
Knock me down
to silence me
You can raid my soul
You can shove your knife in my heart
to make me quiet
Why don't you want me to be near
Why don't you want me to be
Why are you so afraid
Is it me you fear?
You reach out you hand to me
and slap me in my face
to silence me
You can throw your stones at me
You can rip my flesh from my body
to make me dead
Why do you need to invade my world
Why do you need to silence me
Why are you so afraid
to express yourself
Like me
Dedicated to every person who has ever been judged for being different from the rest. Be proud and Out loud and stand out!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Emptiness of War
The leaves flew around the empty playground
where the children didn't play anymore
and all the grass had begun to decay
The trees had withered
Their branches clawing at the cold earth
like angry fingers clinging to survival
The clouds never leave
There is no shelter, no solace
Only despair and hopelessness
A broken swing clanging in the distance
reminds us death lurks behind every shadow
Ghosts wandering, rejoicing in our pain
and everywhere you look, there is destruction
Life is taken before it can be lived
Forever altering the course of history
The damage so devastating
there is little hope for renewal
Where can we go can from here
Have we lost our hold on tomorrow
the future slipping through our fingers?
CWR
Stop the devastation before it is too late! Somewhere out there is a new day...
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Why?
Who are you?
Who am I?
Who are you to question who I am?
Why do you care?
Who are you to decide?
Why does it matter?
Who do you love?
Why is your choice the right choice?
Why do you worry so?
About me?
About what color I am?
What gods I believe in?
Or whether I believe at all?
Why do you care how or where I worship?
Why do you care who I love?
Who I hold?
Who I share my soul with?
Why does it matter?
Why don't you care about me?
Why do you want to oppress me?
Why do you want to suppress me?
Why do you want to choose for me?
Who chose for you?
Why do you care?
Why does it matter?
Who said you could decide?
Why do you care about what I do?
Why don't you care about who I am?
CWR
Dedicated to the struggle for Equal Marriage Rights...why??
Who am I?
Who are you to question who I am?
Why do you care?
Who are you to decide?
Why does it matter?
Who do you love?
Why is your choice the right choice?
Why do you worry so?
About me?
About what color I am?
What gods I believe in?
Or whether I believe at all?
Why do you care how or where I worship?
Why do you care who I love?
Who I hold?
Who I share my soul with?
Why does it matter?
Why don't you care about me?
Why do you want to oppress me?
Why do you want to suppress me?
Why do you want to choose for me?
Who chose for you?
Why do you care?
Why does it matter?
Who said you could decide?
Why do you care about what I do?
Why don't you care about who I am?
CWR
Dedicated to the struggle for Equal Marriage Rights...why??
Friday, January 2, 2009
Derek Trucks Band-Snoqualmie Casino
This was the first concert of the year and a new venue for us as well. The new Snoqualmie Casino turns its ballroom into a theatre for concerts, so it wasn't acoustically perfect but the experience here made up for that.
Plenty of free parking all around the casino made it an easy in and out and the venue is right off the freeway, so access is great. There was no body cavity search and once your ticket is scanned they give you a wristband so you can wander the casino. You can bring your drinks into the show and they are casino cheap and strong, so I've been told. For non drinkers, bottled water is free!
The show started on time and the band was hot! Some of the highlights were Sailing On, Get Out My Life and a smoking My Favorite Things that evoked some Coltrane as well as Duane Allman. After touring with Susan Tedeschi as Soul Stew Revival, the DTB was ready for some long, bluesy jams and Derek delivered some smokin' hot solos. He had the slide on for most of the show and was working the whole neck.
Mike Mattison was looking like Joe Cocker as he escaped into the soul of every word he sang. His sweet voice is always a complement to the outstanding musicianship of the whole band and you can see how deeply he feels this music being played by his friends and bandmates. Bassist Todd Smalley had a smile on his face for the whole night and sometimes his bass sounded like horns as he pulled and bent some deep notes.
The new songs are very jazzy as well as bluesy and the Afro-Celt influences continue to be strong. New album is out on 1/13 and I'll be picking it up fast. All in all, absolutely great show and was surprisingly impressed by the venue.
Peace Out, CWR
Plenty of free parking all around the casino made it an easy in and out and the venue is right off the freeway, so access is great. There was no body cavity search and once your ticket is scanned they give you a wristband so you can wander the casino. You can bring your drinks into the show and they are casino cheap and strong, so I've been told. For non drinkers, bottled water is free!
The show started on time and the band was hot! Some of the highlights were Sailing On, Get Out My Life and a smoking My Favorite Things that evoked some Coltrane as well as Duane Allman. After touring with Susan Tedeschi as Soul Stew Revival, the DTB was ready for some long, bluesy jams and Derek delivered some smokin' hot solos. He had the slide on for most of the show and was working the whole neck.
Mike Mattison was looking like Joe Cocker as he escaped into the soul of every word he sang. His sweet voice is always a complement to the outstanding musicianship of the whole band and you can see how deeply he feels this music being played by his friends and bandmates. Bassist Todd Smalley had a smile on his face for the whole night and sometimes his bass sounded like horns as he pulled and bent some deep notes.
The new songs are very jazzy as well as bluesy and the Afro-Celt influences continue to be strong. New album is out on 1/13 and I'll be picking it up fast. All in all, absolutely great show and was surprisingly impressed by the venue.
Peace Out, CWR
God, Part 33 1/3
I believe in poetry
I believe in the magic of words
I believe in the power of positive thinking
I believe in love and peace
I believe in me
I believe in my right to live free
I believe in the earth
I believe in music
I believe in tomorrow
I believe in life
I believe in the sky
I believe in the oceans
I believe in the rocks and the trees
I believe the truth
I believe in hope
I believe in New York City
I believe in friends
I believe in spirit and soul
I believe in family
I believe in myself
I believe I'll have another
I believe in you
but
I don't believe in God
With undying devotion to John Lennon
I believe in the magic of words
I believe in the power of positive thinking
I believe in love and peace
I believe in me
I believe in my right to live free
I believe in the earth
I believe in music
I believe in tomorrow
I believe in life
I believe in the sky
I believe in the oceans
I believe in the rocks and the trees
I believe the truth
I believe in hope
I believe in New York City
I believe in friends
I believe in spirit and soul
I believe in family
I believe in myself
I believe I'll have another
I believe in you
but
I don't believe in God
With undying devotion to John Lennon
The New Year and How to Use a Blog
I've been giving my blog some thought and I've decided how to use it. In the new year, I will be posting my poetry and haiku here, sometimes matched with photos by the hubby or I.
I'll be writing notes and reviews on music and concerts we are enjoying and other cultural events we attend or want to hear about from others.
And occasionally, I will rant about issues that are important to me like equal marriage rights, housing and health care for everyone and the end of war everywhere.
In other words, this will be like be able to read my journal except you won't get the really good private parts!
I don't intend to offend anyone since I don't really expect anyone to actually read this blog but if you are reading and have opinions, please share them. My mind, like my heart, is wide open!
Happy New Year. May all your tomorrows be better than you imagined.
I'll be writing notes and reviews on music and concerts we are enjoying and other cultural events we attend or want to hear about from others.
And occasionally, I will rant about issues that are important to me like equal marriage rights, housing and health care for everyone and the end of war everywhere.
In other words, this will be like be able to read my journal except you won't get the really good private parts!
I don't intend to offend anyone since I don't really expect anyone to actually read this blog but if you are reading and have opinions, please share them. My mind, like my heart, is wide open!
Happy New Year. May all your tomorrows be better than you imagined.
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