Poetry Month: Mad Farmer

A friend just recommended Wendell Berry's poem "Mad Farmer Liberation Front". You can read it here. Here's the first stanza:

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

Station II: Bearing the Cross

We adore thee, O Christ,
because we find Olivia
sitting on a bench outside
holding a bloody cloth
over her face.
The beam is a secret joy you carry
because the world is not quite as warm
as when police arrested Jeremy
for first degree murder.
It is an instrument of redemption,
so avoid worrying over past bruises.
A heavy cross.
A suicide truck crashed into a Kurdish neighborhood.
Nick lost a black guitar in last week's tornado.
Jason, 24, of Amelia, VA, died Sunday.
O Christ, your Holy Cross
with which you redeem
a suicide truck bomber.
Amish children return to school,
they survived the shooting
that killed five classmates last fall.
They survived to forgive.
Your heavy cross was born
for a man convicted of killing
two teenage girls.
You carry your cross with meekness
for an Oklahoma marine
killed while serving in Iraq.
A black guitar.
Jason died from wounds suffered in the attack.
The heavy beam.
Your bruised shoulders.
O grant us, by your virtue,
to submit to suffering.
Grant us, by your suffering,
to submit to peace.

Poetry Month: Recommended Poems

In another venue, I have suggested we spend Poetry Month (April) listing some of our favorite poems.

The first poem I listed was T.S. Elliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," which I memorized for a high school talent show:

Let us go then, you and I
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table.

The next poem that comes to mind is Diane Wakoski's "I Have Not Learned to Live With My Face." It was originally in The Motorcycle Betrayal Poems and is now in the collection, Emerald Ice. A girl introduced our high school English class to Ms. Wakoski's work, and I've been a fan ever since.

Ms. Waksoski is grouped with the "deep image" poets. As you might imagine, the emphasis is on the image rather than sound, narrative, or lyrical quality. At the same time, her poems have a confessional quality, with an admixture of personal and universal myth. Examples include her George Washington and Beethoven poems. Her most recent series, The Archaeology of Movies and Books (I've read the first two collections in this four-part series), takes this to the next level - mixing her personal history with the myth of Jason and Medea in the first two books.

Also worthy of study is her epic work, Greed, which appears to be a work still in progress. Future generations may well consider it an epic for the 20th/21st Centuries.

Station I: Born to Die

Clayton was five when he died.
His sister was three
when the flames
took her breath.
They were condemned to die.
The house was found
engulfed in flames
at 2 p.m.
Kent J was nine
when the tractor trailer
condemned him to die.
Douglas locked his children
in the trunk.
He judged them ready.
He condemned them to die.
Sean and Jeffrey were on patrol,
responding to a domestic dispute
when an unknown person shot
and condemned them to die.
An unknown person
made an unborn child
an orphan.
Page 13A is filled with
names and ages.
Lives touched, loves passing.
Each born to die.
Each condemned to die
from the moment seed mixed with water.
Eva Sue, Ella Mae, Kenneth Paul.
Each born of woman.
Born with ashes
already hidden on each brow.

Idée d’jour

A monk asked Ummon: "What is it that surpasses the Buddhas, surpasses the patriarchs?"

Ummon replied: "Buns."
— Zen Mondo

---

Zen stories can have an element of the absurd that Samuel Beckett or Woody Allen would envy. One question this story raises is whether Ummon is referring to something you eat (like hot cross buns) or to the posterior.

What do you think?

Friday Five: Passiontide

This week's theme suggested by Reverend Mother.

1. Will this Sunday be Palms only, Passion only, or hyphenated?
   Hyphenated, which seems to be the norm amoung Oklahoma Episcopal churches. My reading of the Book of Common Prayer suggests it could be separate services, but my memory it's been one service since 197-mumble


2. Maundy Thursday Footwashing: Discuss.
   The last time I experienced this was at St. James' As has been noted, it's easier to wash someone else's feet than it is to have your feet washed. By the end of the day, when such services are normally held, my feet can be a little sweltery, and potentially stinky. Plus, the toenails on my right foot are yellowed. So, footwashing can be quite humbling. Since humility is one theme of Maundy Thursday, it seems appropriate. As a typical Caucasian middle-middle class American, I need an occasional lesson in humility.


3. Share a particularly meaningful Good Friday worship experience.
   One year, at St. James', I stayed through the entire vigil which begins Maundy Thursday. When I felt sleepy, I went to the choir loft and laid down. I also was on a liquid fast until sundown Good Friday. When awake, I was aware of my own breathing. I occasionally read prayers assigned for the vigil from the St. Augustine Prayerbook. There was no question in my mind I was striving to keep prayerful watch that year.
   
      Not a discipline I recommend. Nor one I plan to repeat in the near future.


4. Easter Sunrise Services--choose one:
   1. "Resurrection tradition par excellence!"
   2. "Eh. As long as it's sunrise with coffee, I can live with it."
   3. "[Yawn] Can't Jesus stay in the tomb just five more minutes, Mom?!?"
   
   I have only experienced one Sunrise Service. I was one of the people in our congregation who lobbied for it. I did need my coffee. At the time, it was just Mary and I; her kids were on their own by this point, so option "c" would not apply.
   
      There is an amusing story connected with that service. Holy Apostles was a de facto rural church — there was a large field to the north of it, and horse ranches to the south. The service began in pitch darkness, with the service of the new fire — lighting the Pascal Candle and relighting the sanctuary light. As it got light, we heard hissing from outside. Choir members were facing the north window, and — along with certain acolytes — were the first to see what was going on. Harriet muttered, "It's my husband; I'm going to kill him."
   
      The field to the north of our church was often used by a local ballooning club. That hissing we had heard was the gas filling the great multi-colored balloons. The acolytes were getting quite restive, as were some members of the congregation. Acolytes on the other side of the chancel were rubber-necking to see what was going on. The minister, however, absolutely refused to turn around.
   
      Just as the opening hymn began, one of the balloons rose up quite near the north window. The balloon had a picture of Pistol Pete, the mascot of a local college sports team.
   
      The opening hymn was "He is risen, he is risen."


5. Complete this sentence: It just isn't Easter without...
   Dinner at Gary's. Gary hosts an annual dinner for everyone at the Cathedral who wants to come. It's primarily, I think, for those who have no other plans or other places to go, but it seems like a tradition for everybody to attend this event. It's potluck, and the food is marvelous.
   
      Another tradition at Gary's dinner is the Easter Egg hunt. The older kids hide eggs for the younger ones. Seeing the little girls in their cute Easter dresses digging under bushes and peering in the crannies of walls and fences should be enough to open every old heart.

Bonus: Any Easter Vigil aficionados out there? Please share.
This is my tradition. And it often happens that I attend the Vigil and the service the next morning. This year, I'm scheduled to do something at that morning service, so I have no choice. Rather, I choose to attend both, because the Vigil is so meaningful to me.

   I've already spoken of the lighting of the New Fire. This can be quite awesome, if one puts his spiritual imagination to work. Plus, at the Cathedral, this is the time (as of old) when people are confirmed or renew their baptismal vows. There are times tears come to my eyes during this ceremony.

Idée d’jour

Tung-kuo Tzu asked Chuang-tzu: "What is the Way? Where is it?"

"It is everywhere," replied Chuang-tzu.

Tung-kuo Tzu said, "It will not do unless you are more specific."

"It is in the ant," said Chuang-tzu.

— Taoist Mondo

---

Jesus said, "I am the Way." Which may also be translated, "the path." Another understanding of the word "Torah" is also The Way; we commonly translate "Torah" as "Law", in reference to the "Five Books of Moses".

The meaning may not be precisely the same, but I suspect this commonality points to a common understanding of spirituality. I suggest this story may also answer our question, "What is God" or "Where is God".

Prayer d’jour

Dear God, sometimes I can hear You, but I can't understand your words.
Please help me understand so I may do well.
Just think of me as an angel in training.
— written by a resident of Covenant House, a shelter for runaway teens.

Idée d’jour

A society that gets rid of all its troublemakers goes downhill.
— Robert A. Heinlein, science-fiction author (1907-1988)

---

Best known for his novel Stranger in a Strange Land. Heinlein was a Libertarian; some of his contemporaries characterized him as a radical conservative (the people in question did not intend this as a complement).

Idée d’jour

Better to meet a she-bear robbed of its cubs than to confront a fool immersed in folly.
— Proverbs

Idée d’jour

If you have no feelings about worldly things, they are all Buddhism. If you have feelings about Buddhism, it is a worldly thing.
— Zen Saying

---

St. Paul couldn't have said it better!

1B1 B Gone

I worked with Sheila for about 2 1/2 months in 2000. It was a wonderful working relationship. She respected my opinion, honored my creativity, and was good company besides.

Sheila was recently diagnosed with cervical cancer. She has been undergoing chemo as well as radiation. She's about half-way through the chemo treatments, and has 13 radiation treatments left.

Rob, who works in her office, created the slogan "1B1 B Gone". Purple plastic bracelets have been made; I wear one.

Her assistant, Rita, organized a meeting of the people praying and caring and sending Sheila positive vibes. We met at a church around the corner from Sheila's house. There were about 55 of us. I knew a few, and struck up conversations with new friends.

This was good.

We walked to Sheila's house. She was surprised. You can see us here. I'm the tummy at the far right.

Sheila seemed glad to see me. She thanked me for posting positive notes on her blog. She had good color, and good spirits.

I have confidence she will beat this foe!

Idée d’jour

Although the wind
blows terribly here,
the moonlight also
leaks through the holes
in the roof
of this ruined house.
— Shibiku

Friday Five: Rivers in the Desert

This week's theme is suggested by Songbird, who writes:

As we near the end of the long journey toward Easter, a busy time for pastors and layfolk alike, I ponder the words of Isaiah and the relief and refreshment of a river in the desert.

For this Friday Five, name five practices, activities, people or _____ (feel free to fill in something I may be forgetting) that for you are rivers in the desert.

1. Music. I've programmed a pair of play lists on my iPod, Ambient and Ambient – Night. Each consists primarily of music without lyrics, so I can listen while I work. To date, my employer has not complained, and I'm very grateful I have the choice to listen to music through the day.
      In any list of things I could not live without, music would be number one. It is the foundation of my spirituality.
      There are times, primarily when I've tranquilized my ego, when singing really does become a form of prayer. "The who sings, prays twice," to paraphrase St. Augustine.


2. My feline companion. There's no comfort quite like her small warm furry body curled up on my lap. The rumble of her purr soothes me, and is somehow reassuring.


3. A good book. A weekend afternoon spent sitting in my recliner with a book (I'm currently reading Gary Wills' What Paul Meant) is time well spent.


4. I wonder about "relief and refreshment". Some activities are relaxing, but are the spiritual equivalent of empty calories. I am thinking, of course, of TV. TV can give my mind a break, and is often a relief. But does it refresh, as Living Waters? Does it make my soul sing?
      Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Seems to me, much depends on the mindfulness I bring to it. Most art has a spiritual message - even drek like Two and a Half Men. It may not be a positive message, mind you, but it can be found.
      And discerning that message can be a fun game to play. Or, it can be a bit of work.
      So: TV is relaxing, and can offer temporary relief. Proper selection programming, or proper attitude, increases the possibility of refreshment.


5. Now and again, I can sit quietly and reflect on my breath. This happens most often Sunday mornings at church, as I empty myself prior to the service. The process is pure gift.

Idée d’jour

To draw, you must close your eyes and sing.
— Pablo Picasso (by way of the Mutts website)

The Episcopal Bishops' Proclamation

We proclaim the Gospel of what God has done and is doing in Christ,
of the dignity of every human being, and of justice, compassion, and peace.

We proclaim the Gospel that in Christ there is no Jew or Greek, no male or female, no slave or free.

We proclaim the Gospel that in Christ all God's children, including women,
are full and equal participants in the life of Christ's Church.

We proclaim the Gospel that in Christ all God's children, including gay and lesbian persons,
are full and equal participants in the life of Christ's Church.

We proclaim the Gospel that stands against any violence,
including violence done to women and children
as well as those who are persecuted because of their differences,
often in the name of God.

We proclaim a Gospel that welcomes diversity of thought
and encourages free and open theological debate
as a way of seeking God's truth.

If that means that others reject us and communion with us,
as some have already done,
we must with great regret and sorrow accept their decision.

The House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church, March 20, 2007

As formatted by The Rt. Rev. Dr. Omed. Who, by the way, wishes you an equitable equinox.

I Lost Your Mirror

Will we ever meet?
Or have I sculpted your image
from Morphean sand?
Yes, I built you from chance unfinished tales.
Yes, you built me from hints and visions.
Let us melt the mirror
and meet among our refracted reflections.
Spirited winds ride
the tightly woven strands
of your long dark hair.

I have seen death walk the old café.
She wears my mother's pale mask.
Her hair was once black, but is now all grey.
She is dark star hunger.
She is infinite need.
She is intimate chasm, intricate cataclysm.
Her porcelain mask has yellowed.
Her legs are gangrene trunks.
Her hands have wounds for fingers.

That is not your reflection.
This death mask is the sentinel I pass
to bring you from the mirror's mercury side.
Mercury melts the dust.
Your hand grows through the glass.
The protector stands to one side.
The sentinel has forgotten her false name.
Your face draws near to mine.
Our tale begins, again.
We return from the forgotten country,
being sure
not to turn our gazes back.

after seeing Cocteau's "Orphee"

Idée d’jour

Nothing will work unless you do.
— maya Angelou

Prayer for Today

Maya Stein's latest poem is worth reading, and praying. It begins:

if ever there was a time for laughter
let it be now
this perfect hour
this infinite instant
let us laugh at the world around us
whichever undying part remains
not verging on the lip [of] annihilation,
poised for the eternal forgetting.

Read the rest here.

Ms. Stein posts something once a week, generally poetry. I commend it to your attention. The link for One Paragraph at a Time is on your left under "Sites to See".

Don't Resign, Bertie

At my last count, three Republicans had joined a number of Democrats in asking Alberto Gonzalez to resign as U.S. Attorney General. And surface appearances would seem to indicate that it would be proper for him to do so. The whole business stinks.

If, however, this scandal concerning the firing of seven Federal Prosecutors around the country teaches us anything, it is that the B*sh administration values loyalty above competence. In fact, recent history ("Doin' a heck of a job!") suggests that B*sh values incompetence most of all.

Maybe he hopes he will look good by comparison.

The point is, the next appointee is not likely to be any better than Bertie.

By the way, I'm just guessing what mildly embarrassing frat-boy nick-name B*sh has given Mr. Gonzalez. For all I know, it might be "Taco."

This is the president, after all, who nominated Harriet Miers for the Supreme Court. The same woman who originally suggested the U.S. Attorney General office fire all 93 Federal Prosecutors around the country. I shudder to think who he would put up for nomination if Mr. Gonzalez did resign.

If Mr. B*sh were smart, he would nominate Robert Fitzgerald. Let it never be said that I accused Mr. B*sh of being smart.

There's another reason that Democrats should oppose Mr. Gonzalez' resignation, and the Republicans should favor it: the longer he is in office, the more protracted the scandal will be. The more information will be released as headline news.

There is still about 30% of the American public, some polls tell us, who think Mr. B*sh is doing a "heck of a job". These people were not convinced of the Administration's incompetence after the post-Katrina disaster. These people have not been convinced, even after the Pentagon admitted that U.S. troops are effectively shooting gallery pigeons between the sides of a Civil War. These last rosy-eyed hold-outs may require something more than a 2x4 to the side of the head.

There is at least a slight possibility that daily headlines will finally persuade them. There is some small hope that a few of those 30% are more intelligent than the man they admire.

This is not just a B*sh thing. It is endemic of how Republicans have done business since the Lewinski fandango. Any means necessary to maintain power. Not only do the ends justify the means, they prefer the dirtiest means possible. Perhaps, as some of them moan, the Democrats have done the same thing. Republicans, however, have perfected it.

With just a little effort, the Democrats can make Alberto Gonzalez and George II poster boys for Republican malfeasance and hubris.