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We had a storm
here in Wichita.

Blasting winds,
pouring rain.

Now the stars are out,
with Jupiter overhead,
straight up.

Already muggy and hot

I spent seven hours
with my Bev.

We talked for hours.

We made love for a few minutes.

We talked for hours, again.

I know you too well, bigjac,
and where you are coming from.  
I know you think you are right
above all others
but the world doesn't work that way.
There are as many "worlds" as there are people -
we all see this life
through the lens of our own experiences.  
Everything that you are
leads you to write this diary.
But you cannot compel others
to see the world through your eyes.
It's just not possible

And, may I ask,
what are you offering?
You want us to happily accept
that there is no right or wrong
No free will
But we will choose to follow our joys
and not our lowest animal instincts.
Offer joy
Not hopelessness.

This was a comment from a previous diary.

The topic was the threat of mass death in coming decades by folks fighting over water and food, if we allow the birth rate to stay as it is, rather than lowering the birth rate, drastically, immediately.

I will respond.

All communication
is an attempt
to compel others
to see the world
through the eyes
of the comunicator,
the sender of the message.

It is always possible.

Our lowest animal instinct
is to follow our joys.

We can do so in a short sighted fashion,
or we can look at the big picture.

Greater joy
might be found
in pushing back
against some short term joys
in favor of the long term joys,
as we follow our lowest animal instinct
by way of following our joys
while looking at the big picture.

Once again, the short sighted joys are the joys of four sweet children for so many families, and the big picture is getting the birth rate down to a sustainable level, such as one child for every other family, for a while, until we get our numbers down to about one billion, then level off.

By the way, as I was talking with my Bev, as I tried to kiss her goodnight, as I tried to walk out her door, and go to my apartment, just next door,

I thought of all the times
I kissed my Pam
as she lay in a hospital bed,
so many times.

I wanted to kiss her
my Pam,
I wanted to kiss her,
again and again.

But I wanted to leave her.

I was so tired.

Life is physically easier
as a single man,
but Pam was my best friend.
Pam made our home so much like
the home I grew up in,
with a stay at home mom,
a breadwinner dad,
but I was the breadwinner.

I went back into Bev's apartment.

We talked some more.

I cried.

I get more emotional support
from Bev and the other Mark
than I do from anyone here.

That makes sense.

But I still find myself
for another friend.

A girlfriend,
that is where my mind tends to go,
or to try again here,
at Daily Kos.

I am unloading trucks again tomorrow
at Walmart.

I want to work on the sales floor,
not unloading trucks
in the back.

I want to make the items look right,
and the prices clearly marked.

And I like to show you
where the toilet seats are.

Originally posted to Smarter Prepping With Big Jack on Sat Sep 11, 2010 at 03:23 AM PDT.

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Comment Preferences

  •  Sidney Keyes, "Remember Your Lovers" (1+ / 0-)
    Recommended by:

    Remember Your Lovers by Sidney Keyes, 1922-1942.

    Young men walking the open streets
    Of death’s republic, remember your lovers.

    When you saw with vision prescient
    The planet pain rising across your sky
    We fused your sight in our soft burning beauty:
    We laid you down in meadows drunk with cowslips
    And led you in the ways of our bright city.
    Young men who wander death’s vague meadows,
    Remember your lovers who gave you more than flowers.

    When truth came prying like a surgeon’s knife
    Among the delicate movements of your brain
    We called your spirit from its narrow den
    And kissed your courage back to meet the blade –
    Our anaesthetic beauty saved you then.
    Young men whose sickness death has cured at last,
    Remember your lovers and covet their disease.

    When you woke grave-chilled at midnight
    To pace the pavement of your bitter dream
    We brought you back to bed and brought you home
    From the dark antechamber of desire
    Into our lust as warm as candle-flame.
    Young men who lie in the carven beds of death,
    Remember your lovers who gave you more than dreams.

    From the sun sheltering your careless head
    Or from the painted devil your quick eye,
    We led you out of terror tenderly
    And fooled you into peace with our soft words
    And gave you all we had and let you die.
    Young men drunk with death’s unquenchable wisdom
    Remember your lovers who gave you more than love.

    "It seems that every time mankind is given a lot of energy, we go out and wreck something with it." - David Brower

    by Miep on Sat Sep 11, 2010 at 03:54:59 AM PDT

  •  dwarf tale (1+ / 0-)
    Recommended by:

    Dwarf Tale

    I think of you, tonight
    Up there in your rafters
    Spinning the fleece into gold
    And speaking the secret names.

    I was told once
    I had an abnormal grasp
    Of Rumplestiltskin, another spinner.

    He did not get the child, either.
    But at least he got the last word,
    before falling through the trap-door
    poor punished weaver
    guilty only of loving children
    and secrecy.

    What a lightweight.

    And what of that tearing in two?
    That is sort of trap-door-like,
    such piecing of one's self into parts.

    And never pretty. The afterimages are really pretty gross.
    No one wants to watch, and yet they do
    And yet they do.

    And what of the child?
    That is always the question, isn't it?
    There he is, all squalling and prescient.
    That trap door stuff is pretty rough
    It's kind of hard to keep secret
    There will be repercussions.

    The princess who faked her way in will have a lot of stories to tell,
    She will be kept quite busy with all this.

    The kid will grow up wondering just what all that was about
    The bit about the dwarf and the gold
    that he hears about from servants, rarely
    just before they grow old.

    It will never be clear, he'll never quite get the straight story
    dig under floorboards though he may.
    That dwarf must be down here somewhere,
    he’ll think.

    He’ll  know he didn’t just make this all up.

    Sooner or later, he’ll get around to it
    He’ll look for a revelation of names
    Layered in strata,
    All the way to China.

    Feb 2007,
    Miep Rowan O’Brien

    "It seems that every time mankind is given a lot of energy, we go out and wreck something with it." - David Brower

    by Miep on Sat Sep 11, 2010 at 04:01:51 AM PDT

    •  I wrote a limerick for you a while back. (1+ / 0-)
      Recommended by:

      It started,

      There was a young lady, Miep Rowan,
      who didn't like how things were goin'

      I do not recall the rest.

      I am not certain you are female, but the limerick sounds good that way.

      Good to see you here.

      By the way,

      do you like my response to my commentor?

      •  I'm technically female (1+ / 0-)
        Recommended by:

        but I'm 53 years old this October.

        I can write this stuff in my sleep.

        There one was a guy called Big Jac,

        Who tried hard not to get in the pack,

        The other humans, he found,

        weren't always around

        And meanwhile he went for slight tacks.

        "It seems that every time mankind is given a lot of energy, we go out and wreck something with it." - David Brower

        by Miep on Sat Sep 11, 2010 at 04:18:42 AM PDT

        [ Parent ]

        •  You? At this hour? (1+ / 0-)
          Recommended by:

          Have you tried Benedryl?

          •  p ffffff (1+ / 0-)
            Recommended by:

            Melatonin is helpful, though.
            And what are you doing up at this hour, gzodik?

            Just sayin, dude.

            "It seems that every time mankind is given a lot of energy, we go out and wreck something with it." - David Brower

            by Miep on Sat Sep 11, 2010 at 04:26:36 AM PDT

            [ Parent ]

            •  Melatonin (2+ / 0-)
              Recommended by:
              bigjacbigjacbigjac, Miep

              makes me dopey for days.  Sort of like jet lag.

              I didn't take anything tonight.  I often do Benedryl.  Once in a rare while Valium.  I am kind of paranoid about getting dependent on drugs.

              And, I was waiting around for Frankenoid, to tell her about my basil.  Looks like she's not going to show today, tho.

              •  Yes, it does do that (0+ / 0-)

                and it probably contributes to depression.

                But it's possible to gauge doses to keep things from getting too problematic in that department, I suppose.

                "It seems that every time mankind is given a lot of energy, we go out and wreck something with it." - David Brower

                by Miep on Sun Sep 12, 2010 at 03:20:00 AM PDT

                [ Parent ]

              •  oh, and so what about your basil? (0+ / 0-)

                I had great basil once, when I was living in Los Angeles. Bushes up to my navel. Amazing.

                "It seems that every time mankind is given a lot of energy, we go out and wreck something with it." - David Brower

                by Miep on Sun Sep 12, 2010 at 03:20:42 AM PDT

                [ Parent ]

        •  My dear Miep, my Bev just turned 57 (1+ / 0-)
          Recommended by:

          in July, and my other lover, Carrie, turns 59 on September 22.

          They are more than technically female, to me.

          Thank you for the limerick.

          Does it come naturally to us cuz we're Irish?

          Or are you not Irish, with the name O'Brian being your husband's name?

          •  hahhahahhha (0+ / 0-)

            I changed my name legally in 1995, to reflect my heritage.

            I never had a husband.

            I have O'Briens on both sides, and Rowans on my father's side.

            Thanks for asking.

            "It seems that every time mankind is given a lot of energy, we go out and wreck something with it." - David Brower

            by Miep on Sun Sep 12, 2010 at 03:19:19 AM PDT

            [ Parent ]

    •  And, by the way, was the first poem (1+ / 0-)
      Recommended by:

      from a man who was in combat in WWII?

      And, could you explain it a little, or am I on my own?

      I get a general idea, but I wonder if I am missing simply what, in the poem, symbolizes what, in the world?

      And, the second poem, makes me want to read the story of Rumplestiltskin, again, to make sure I fully "get" your fine poem.

      I like it for the humor, and the follow through of the characters in a story, after the story ends, the rest of the story, as Paul Harvey liked to say.

      •  The first poem was written by a guy (0+ / 0-)

        who died in his 20's in WWI. He's been compared to Keats.

        It is not a poem that I will try to explain. I've pondered over it for years now; I picked up on it because an elderly Aussie bookseller posted it on Remembrance Day, on a bookseller website.

        The best art cannot be explained, because it lends itself to so many complex meanings. I STILL don't understand that poem, I've only been capable of picking around the edges of it. But the more I do so, the more it amazes me.

        Thanks for your kind words about my Rumplestiltskin poem. It's one of my better works, I think.

        "It seems that every time mankind is given a lot of energy, we go out and wreck something with it." - David Brower

        by Miep on Sun Sep 12, 2010 at 03:25:52 AM PDT

        [ Parent ]

  •  Daily? (1+ / 0-)
    Recommended by:

    "It seems that every time mankind is given a lot of energy, we go out and wreck something with it." - David Brower

    by Miep on Sat Sep 11, 2010 at 04:06:08 AM PDT

  •  I'm old, O.K.? (1+ / 0-)
    Recommended by:

    So I get to be cranky, and have pet peeves and antedeluvian ideas.

    You are one of the few who realizes what the problem is.  And your stuff is good.  But what makes this modern stuff poetry? Other than the line feeds?

  •  Recced and tipped for creativity. (1+ / 0-)
    Recommended by:

    My daughter is a performance poet...a good one, too. I don't do poetry though. I just appreciate it from a distance!

    I blog on healthcare issues for Tikkun Daily as Lauren Reichelt.

    by TheFatLadySings on Sat Sep 11, 2010 at 06:37:31 AM PDT

  •  Going to the wildlife hospital (1+ / 0-)
    Recommended by:

    to do the volunteer training.  Don't know if I would be any good at this.  Do not like to see anything hurt.  Maybe I can just sweep up.  I might write a poem about this if I think of something.

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