“This dinner takes place in a dimension — apart from time.”
Welcome to this Thanksgiving’s festivity
a dinner to celebrate originality
the main course is vision with a fresh side of wit
it’s time to get started, please everyone — sit
our first guest is Salvador Dali
his work’s “out there”, but it’s not folly
he sees life in abstract, and paints with great flair
he’s taken his work where few artists would dare
may I now present Mr. John Lennon
you might know the band that he plays in
clever and candid, what he thinks he will say
I think he might just be a legend some day
please now greet Mr. Kurt Vonnegut
he’s a satirist and exceptionally literate
his writing is brilliant, his mind so alive
hope you get the chance to read Slaughterhouse Five
this gifted woman’s Joni Mitchell
the music she creates is insightful
a beautiful mind with a magical soul
the white queen of wisdom, and sweet rock’n’roll
the man to my left’s known as Ghandi
his courage is truly beyond me
he rejects violence — it’s peace he does seek
confronts anger with patience — but he’s not weak
this lady is Amelia Earhart
in bravery she stands apart
she’s currently committed to a great undertaking
solo trans-global is the flight she’s soon making
our next guest is seated beside her
a great poet — meet Gary Snyder
honest and spiritual, he is incredibly smart
his poems about nature stir the mind and heart
proud that here on my right is Dr. Fauci
no matter what you heard, he’s not grouchy
he and the front-liners, work hard keeping us well
and those who don’t get it, can all — go to hell
our final guest thankfully is you
we all believe you belong here too
your bright creative input, will keep spirits high
especially if you remembered to bring — pumpkin pie
this party is purposely small
and I hope that it stimulates all
I think you’ll agree, each here is a winner
thank you for attending this year’s Thanksgiving dinner
oh, and one final thing — please know I’m elated
that each of us here is fully vaccinated!
When I consider giving thanks, so much of what I feel seems laced with a tinge of expectation. I have so much in my life that falls invisible to me in the day to day. I feel, even in my 75th year, that I have much to learn about true thankfulness.
Perhaps growing up in this American land of plenty, then more, has dulled my sense of what it means to be mindfully thankful. Yes, I feel happiness at times, but is that thankfulness? I seem always in search of an understanding of that authentic feeling.
There’ve been times, like this pandemic, that’ve drawn me closer to catching a glimpse of genuine gratitude. So perhaps what I am grateful for is the realization that I still have much to learn in this matter — and that I am fortunate to still have the chance to do so.
do I know thankful
too much I take for granted
so much I should not
BELOW I HAVE WRITTEN LYRICS TO A SONG
(the music bed is not yet written)
* the first couplet is the slower tempo intro
* the quatrains are the verses
* the italicized quatrain is the bridge
* the final verse has a tag couplet coda (outro)
* song fades with coda improvisation
When I was young I learned the magic held by a song
since then I’ve been singing my whole life long
at 11 I discovered
I could truly sing
learned the joy
singing can bring
it was at Christmas
nineteen fifty eight
I found my pipes
then changed my fate
a tear can cloud even the brightest day
but a song will blow those clouds away
sadness is just a passing state
so sing — let your heart celebrate
a frightened child
singing set me free
that wonderful discovery
is my life’s epiphany
I have sung for many
and I’ve sung for few
it was thrilling to know
they really wanted me to
a tear can cloud even the brightest day
but a song will blow those clouds away
sadness is just a passing state
so sing — let your heart celebrate
sung on big stages
sung in little bars
the adventure of singing
has traveled me afar
I’ve sung for money
also sung for free
what I truly enjoy
is singing just for me
[INSTRUMENTAL BREAK]
sung on big stages
sung in little bars
this adventure of singing
has traveled me so far
I’ve sung for money
also sung for free
what I truly enjoy
is singing just for me
but — what I enjoy most
is singing for you and for me
singing — sets my soul free!
This weekend past, I had gotten word that another of my friends had passed. It hit me quite hard. He was one of my oldest friends, in both age and duration. Today I have been staring out the window a lot, watching the November rain, deeply saddened. When I sat down to read Laura’s prompt here, this unfinished draft of a poem came to mind, and began to again stir within. I was moved with the inspiration to complete it, so I’d like to share it. It is certainly more than Laura suggested, but I had to get it out. If it is longer than you care to read, no problem, just skip it — but thanks for visiting.
There are days
when fading memory flickers
that I still can feel
the breeze of yesterday
gently stir my soul
wonderful days remembered
of grace and lightness
of friends beloved
those days of … “when”
when all we touched was fresh and new
and the world was full of wonder
when we were certain we’d live forever
our strength made each day a great adventure
when we had only heard the word pandemic
and never imagined it would happen to us
when we believed in our chosen leaders
if not every word, at least their good intent
when faith in truth sparked splendid dreams
and the amazing future stretched before us
those wonderful years of possibility
the years we witnessed
one for the other
as we made vows
to our chosen life mates
raised our children
grew our careers
our families close
through all those years
but that was then
in those days of … when
now I’ve grown old
unyielding
rigidly braced
against the winds
of time and fate
my soul is uprooted
by life’s growing madness
I search its blessings
curse its sadness
these are brittle years
I am bent by the yoke of worry
heavy with the weight of loss
frustrated by my lack of wealth
struggling with my fickle health
I am haunted by the ghost of memory
a memory I must now fight hard to keep
through these lonely days
when I think of — when
these empty days
when I think of old friends
how can this void be filled
when those so vital
have near all departed
this world denied
of your wit and wisdom
so much kindness
and love lost
as each — you passed
seems no good lasts
how can this void be filled
when your brilliant lights
have been snuffed out
how…
by not forgetting
I remember you all
I remember you now
and all those days
of all those years
that is how I fill this void
with the seeds of friendship
you planted deep
inside my heart
now filled with sorrow
may they continue growing
even here in my winter’s light
to make me kinder
make me gentler
make me more grateful
before the dark of night
falls hard
and halts my faulted pace
good-bye my friends departed
I see you now
face after face
ever will I tend these seeds
and think of when
there were days of you
as long as embers
of my memory smolder
you are remembered
As we live more and more in the screens of our myriad electronic devices, and less and less in the face-to-face world, we find it easier and easier to dismiss each other with a swipe or touch of those screens, or an on/off button.
We are living more and more in a conjured world — “cities of our mind”. It is a dangerous, subconscious dehumanization, a subtle devaluation of each other as real. We’re becoming electronic entities we can make appear, or disappear, at whim and will.
We’re bombarded daily by supposition, even blatant scripted lies. We’re frequently immersed in the fantasy worlds of movies, TV, cellphones, and video games. Reality has become fluid — truth’s becoming relative. This leads further to that devaluation of human life. Likewise, I am bombarded, yet I stand on this “truth litmus” — I carefully test it before I ingest it!
