Not The Same

Look up.
Open your eyes.
To the beauty and variety of nature.
Differences that complement one another.
And create the whole.
A better place.

The Special People In Our Lives

I haven’t posted anything in a while. I do want to share what was on a recent birthday card from my Grandma. This is certainly true of the special people in my life -

The Special People in Our Lives

by Emily Matthews

The things special people
just naturally do
Make all our lives brighter
and happier, too -
It might be the warmth of a welcoming smile,
Or the time someone takes
just to visit awhile…
It might be a hug
or a heart-to-heart talk,
A companion who’s willing
to go for a walk…
It might be a favor,
a kind, helping hand,
A listening ear,
the words, “I Understand.”
They’re little things,
but we know beyond doubt
Each one’s at the heart
of what life’s all about.

I Close My Eyes And Smile

I close my eyes and smile.
Not because something amazing just happened.
Just because.
Just because I was thinking.
I was thinking about what makes me happy.

I close my eyes and smile.
You see, I was looking at old pictures.
Old memories.
Old memories of meaningful times in my life.
I was thinking about the people who are important to me.

I close my eyes and smile.
I hear music from my earphones playing softly.
Playing meaningfully.
Playing meaningfully through these memories.
I was thinking about how our senses are intertwined with memories.

I close my eyes and smile.
Not because someone just did something extraordinary.
Just because.
Just because they were, they are.
I was thinking about what makes me smile.

The Station: A Poem

Trains come rumbling through the station all day.
Nearby, roads are crumbling under tires.
Black locomotives glow from the sun’s ray.
Smoke fills the air blown by the coal fires.
Inside, the clink clank of change in machines;
A man waits on the chair, tears in his eyes,
Dressed in a flannel shirt and baggy jeans.
Dragging paper bags, he thinks of the lies.
So long ago he was sent to the street,
Left with nothing but the clothes on his back.
Never had money or enough to eat.
Ready for change he looks out to the track.
Black smoke rises, it won’t be a while.
Taken aback, he’s greeted with a smile.

The Circle Game

I was going through old files with my Grandma today and came across the lyrics to one of my favorite camp songs: The Circle Game.  I always enjoyed this song and now that I have rediscovered it, I find it to be relevant again, just at a different part of the circle.

Yesterday, a child came out to wander
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star

And the seasons they go ’round and ’round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

Then, the child moved ten times ’round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like, “When you’re older”, must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams

Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels through the town
And they tell him, “Take your time. It won’t be long now.
‘Til you drag your feet to slow the circles down”

And the seasons they go ’round and ’round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There’ll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through.

And the seasons they go ’round and ’round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return, we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and ’round and ’round
In the circle game
And go ’round and ’round and ’round in the circle game.

Don’t Quit

My Grandma shared this poem with me.  Someone gave it to her when my Grandpa was sick.  I like it a lot:

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will; when the road you’re trudging seems all up hill;
When the funds are low and the debts are high; and you want to smile, but you have to sigh;
When care is pressing you down a bit, rest if you must – but don’t quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns, as everyone of us sometimes learns.
And many a failure turns about when he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don’t give up; though the pace seems slow – you might succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than it seems to a faint and faltering man.
Often the struggler has given up, when he might have captured the victor’s cup.
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down, how close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out – the silver tint of the clouds of doubt -
And you never can tell how close you are, it may be near when it seems afar.
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit – it’s when things seem worst that you mustn’t quit.

Poetry Category

I have added a new “category” to my blog for poetry.  I used to love creative writing, but over the last few years have been doing it less and less.  I enjoy the ability to express myself through words and develop meaning through imagery.  While life is as busy now as ever, it may well be a good time to start positing some of my old poems and begin composing new ones.  I will occasionally post works by other authors and will, of course, note these as such.

I think I will enjoy this.  I hope you will as well.

Either Way

I used to write poems.  I have not, however, been all that into poetry in a few years, but I think it is a good way to express myself.  Perhaps, the meaning through complexity allows me to express myself without explicit commitment to the words I write?  Maybe I like the ambiguousness?  Maybe there is potential for the future?

Regardless, I’ve written my first poem in a long time.  I hope you like it.

Either Way.

Coming home.
Upon the ground there are red roses, lying on white.
As I walk through them, I approach the darkness.
Strong.  Blue.  Black.
Can’t hear, but I see smiles.
Whose smiles?
Movement.  Feel it.
Can’t do it.
Who is this?  I didn’t know, but now I am sure.
From where? Leaning.
But is it sturdy?  What happens if it is not?
I do not know.
Tell me.  I wish I knew.
Clarity.
Why risk it?  Why invest?
Maybe it is worth it.  Maybe it is not.
Lying.  Future.  Possibility.
Smashed!
La la la.
Why not?
Okay.
I want to see the options…
Where are they going?
I wish I knew.

The Call of the Wild

At each opening and closing campfire at summer camp, a staff member of the Ranger Program presents a poem/story of some sort and recruits for the program.  These stories are inspirational, motivational, and meaningful.  They tend to (appropriately) relate to the outdoors.  One of my favorites is “The Call of the Wild”.  This poem by Robert Service is not the same as the story by Jack London, but is nevertheless a challenge for exploration and understanding.  It is definitely worth reading and considering.

The Call of the Wild

by Robert W. Service

Have you gazed on naked grandeur
where there’s nothing else to gaze on,
Set pieces and drop-curtain scenes galore,
Big mountains heaved to heaven, which the blinding sunsets blazon,
Black canyons where the rapids rip and roar?
Have you swept the visioned valley
with the green stream streaking through it,
Searched the Vastness for a something you have lost?
Have you strung your soul to silence?
Then for God’s sake go and do it;
Hear the challenge, learn the lesson, pay the cost.

Have you wandered in the wilderness, the sagebrush desolation,
The bunch-grass levels where the cattle graze?
Have you whistled bits of rag-time at the end of all creation,
And learned to know the desert’s little ways?
Have you camped upon the foothills,
have you galloped o’er the ranges,
Have you roamed the arid sun-lands through and through?
Have you chummed up with the mesa?
Do you know its moods and changes?
Then listen to the Wild — it’s calling you.

Have you known the Great White Silence,
not a snow-gemmed twig aquiver?
(Eternal truths that shame our soothing lies).
Have you broken trail on snowshoes? mushed your huskies up the river,
Dared the unknown, led the way, and clutched the prize?
Have you marked the map’s void spaces, mingled with the mongrel races,
Felt the savage strength of brute in every thew?
And though grim as hell the worst is,
can you round it off with curses?
Then hearken to the Wild — it’s wanting you.

Have you suffered, starved and triumphed,
groveled down, yet grasped at glory,
Grown bigger in the bigness of the whole?
“Done things” just for the doing, letting babblers tell the story,
Seeing through the nice veneer the naked soul?
Have you seen God in His splendors,
heard the text that nature renders?
(You’ll never hear it in the family pew).
The simple things, the true things, the silent men who do things –
Then listen to the Wild — it’s calling you.

They have cradled you in custom,
they have primed you with their preaching,
They have soaked you in convention through and through;
They have put you in a showcase; you’re a credit to their teaching –
But can’t you hear the Wild? — it’s calling you.
Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what luck betide us;
Let us journey to a lonely land I know.
There’s a whisper on the night-wind,
there’s a star agleam to guide us,
And the Wild is calling, calling. . .let us go.

Robert Service

As Our Lives Change, Come Whatever, We Will Still Be Friends Forever

Graduation is coming up.  For DU, it is Saturday, June 5, 2010.  Because of the Dual Degree program I am in, I am not technically graduating (I’ll stay an undergraduate for the fifth year).  I am walking with my class though.  As the University of Denver Class of 2010 graduates, I will be forced to say goodbye to some of my closest friends and some of the best people I have met in my life.  I certainly hope that some of these people will still be in Denver with me for at least the next year, but whatever happens, things will change.  I can only hope that we will be friends forever.

I have been trying not to think about any of this because it makes me sad.  I watched How I Met Your Mother tonight though, and the whole “Robots versus Wrestlers” episode was basically about friendship, friend groups, and how things change and people move apart.  It made me start thinking again.

Ted shared a poem titled “Friendship” by Ralph Waldo Emerson:

A ruddy drop of manly blood
The surging sea outweighs,
The world uncertain comes and goes,
The lover rooted stays.
I fancied he was fled,
And, after many a year,
Glowed unexhausted kindliness
Like daily sunrise there.
My careful heart was free again, —
O friend, my bosom said,
Through thee alone the sky is arched,
Through thee the rose is red,
All things through thee take nobler form,
And look beyond the earth,
And is the mill-round of our fate
A sun-path in thy worth.
Me too thy nobleness has taught
To master my despair;
The fountains of my hidden life
Are through thy friendship fair.

He concluded by narrating to his future kids as follows:

“Kids, I’d love to tell you that over the years we didn’t all drift apart a little at one time or another.  We don’t mean for it to happen.  But it does.  But no matter what, to this day, come hell or high water, we still all get together every year for Robots Versus Wrestlers.”

While he ends on a light note, the purpose of his quote is not missed.  Even if we do move apart, we can still come back together, be with each other, be there for each other, and celebrate each other just as we always have.

One graduation song always touches my heart – Graduation (Friends Forever) by Vitamin C.  While the song is really about high school, it could also be true to college.  This song always makes me want to cry.

To my good friends: I truly hope that we really will be friends forever!  You mean so much to me!