Mouse or Elephant?

I read today that "the recipe for a mouse is much the same as the recipe for an elepant."

Yet they differ.

Some in my family speak racism with comfort and ease.

I ask if my discomfort stems from my disagreement with their views or an echoic sympathetic twinge - an acknowledgement that this is the stock I am from; so is racism a part of who I am?

If someone's dander is raised at the lowering of another confederate flag, a flag stitched in haste to represent a potential new nation whose core philosophy was an independent will to preserve its historic industries. At the cost of human life and dignity. This new nation's flag was intended to wave high its own beliefs, its separate strengths and disparate weaknesses. And it's right to dominate the beliefs and strengths of another people.

It is a waste of fabric to continue to sew this flag in this day and age. It is only a "tradition" in its deliberate perpetuation.

And if you're angry that the general public cries, "Take it down and put it away."

Take it down and put it away.

"It's just something else that THEY'VE taken from us."

What is being taken from you? Your heritage? Something to be proud of?

Something I should be proud of?

I love you and admire you. I aspire to be like you.

I am you. Your recipe.

Are we mouse or elephant?

Nile '03

Waving at strangers,
which god is at your side
fluorescent minaret?

You are a match struck
beside four-thousand year old
fading pigments.

You are a twist of pale grey
beside a sky of smoke, of history,
of farmers burning fields,
of Cleopatra's cigarettes.

Luxor '03

What really pisses
god’s fanclub off?
Egyptians.
They beat you to it.

History can brush off the youngsters –
Unitarian, Muslim, Baptist.

But Egypt
wags a stony finger in your face
jabs deep in the Christian heart it’s sting:
You blew it.

TETHERS

Six o’clock this morning when
Death caught up with us and decided
the whole world would go untouched
but for you my tawny friend

I think Death was a little spiteful
since we’d snatched seven hours from yesterday
when he arrived where you should have been
to find I’d stolen you away

Unbound you lay by my side at home
my belly against your back
breathing soft, purring low
my fingers across your pain

Six o’clock this morning when
I heard a small chime ring – I woke
in time to watch you steal away again.

Rome

I thought you needed my help
waiting for my shining moment
to don armor, to mount steed,
to heroically jump in…

Don’t worry – I’ll let you know when.

I waited a long time to hear you ask
your eyes raised to mine
a brow in curled question
an honest second
of bit of hope
a word:
Help.

Don’t worry – I’ll let you know when.

I’ve worried myself into bitterness:
I wouldn’t spit on you now
if flame burst from your
head and hair.
I might even applaud
and yes, I would stare –
and if ever I could play fiddle,
I would, then and there.

Don’t worry – I’ll let you know when.

It's Not the Wind

New year comes on eight legs
and lifts them to test the air and taste the wintermoth -
but the moth is a sweet moon dancer...
and spider a starving lurker, or worse, a hungry walker.

With dusty fluttering wings in my ears –
no, its not the wind
it’s the foolery of the short-lived
as they make their mark early and quick
flying fiercely at the moon or sun
at dizzy heights to be crisped and ruined –
to land – they come – to ends again –
landing softly in outstretched webs.

I wait safe & sound:
a personal guarantee to live long.
Cocooned in a stringy nest,
ravenous.

Poem: STREETS: BALTIMORE (ef)

She said what I saw –

the streets of Baltimore

sparkle under streetlight

something broken

and rolled into the pavement

sparkles so brilliantly

in the dark

and makes us mind our feet

passing over a field of stars

careful not to tread

on the brighter bits.

 

Promises lay in layers

obvious welts where

each winter puckers

the lengthy blackness

that scratches itchy chunks

from its twinkling hide

to be filled and patched

by the careful keepers

of promises, of pavement.

 

She saw what I said –

that something broken
sparkles so brilliantly
in the dark.

07.13.02 eaf

ADA Ruling

Supreme Court Narrows Reach of Disability Law

I heard this on the radio - and it made me go, "Hmmmmm."

I see three sides on this coin - two as a business and an employer. I have several times been amazed at how 1 individual's needs can bend an entire company. I am not talking sweeping changes that can accomodate many needs (ramps, automatic doors, etc.).

I also know personally friends whose needs have or have not been met by employers and how a change in their lifestyle and a lack of bend on the part of the employer truly CAN effect the person's daily life so the ruling seems to miss that fine point - that state of employment for most of the population goes hand-in-hand with daily life.

...the law only covers impairments that affect a person's daily life and does not apply to conditions that prevent a worker from performing a specific job-related task...

Case-by-case things should still be considered and weighed. I hope this doesn't give businesses the opinion that they don't have to even consider making changes/accomodations because the law says that they aren't required to.

And that works as long as the individual in need understands that an employer can only make so many accomodations to allow them to continue doing their job.

The High Fey (ef)

In tentacles of shade
hyphae
dark and narrow tunnels
underneath the forest floor
a fairy ring in mushrooms
a web of eyeless parasites
supply a mouth or opening
at the cavern’s edge
a firefly lights a lamp
in meadows to mark
the dancing of fairy-folk
hy·pae·thral
under the open sky
without roof
temple
asexual spores
interested in or engaging in sexual activity to an abnormal extent
blessed with an exquisite gift of touch
like squid in the water
oidium
like the worst writing in the best of ink -
come the elemental basics
into the sylvan soil they deeply sink -
a threadlike part of the vegetative portion of a fungus
to touch infrequent visitors
with a forever leisurely life
and soothing lines of decompose.

If I Didn't Like You (ef)

If I didn't like you,
I'd replace your voice
with the ticking of my watch -
held romantically close
to my ear,
covering the meaningless conversation
on my right
with a metronomic awareness
of wasted time in flight -
a comodity
more romantically precious to me
at moments
than you are, my dear.

Finders, Keepers (ef)

The safest place in the whole wide world
for something that you’ve wanted to hide:
your mind, floating in its impervious tank,
waiting for your secrets, waiting for your truths.

It’s sleekly coiled barriers, it’s rippled shank are proof
your mind has a pocket for everything it’s told
for safe-keeping, finders, keepers, to have and to hold
no burglary to brace against, no need for wires or defense

No thief has ever returned from the burning darkness.

Go and drop every unbearable memory in its well,
it waits – lips expectantly rolled, wide, down in the mouth
white stones, like teeth, wait for terrible things to happen.
Each one stands straight, each one a sentinel, bright and cold.

Ugly Is...

I am working my way up to a simmer...

Why do so many people have an inherent need to destroy and dissemble every view point that is not their own?

I have been a member of a community group for nearly three years that is somewhat grass-roots.

And they have just sent out their latest newsletter with an article lambasting (word?) another local organization for supporting the Boy Scouts - or in actuality, permitting the Scouts to meet.

Supporting the Scouts is discrimination.

Tearing the Scouts out by the root is apparently not.

A witch hunt is a witch hunt. Even if it is a bunch of frustrated members of a minority group performing the task.

Ugly is.

More on this later...

---

~10:50pm

I'm starting to think more about all of it - and sometimes it makes my head hurt.

1) The operators of the community center make a space available to those who pay for their time - there are rules, I am sure - still, the BSA are welcome, the GLBT (gay-lesbian-bi-trans) group is welcome.

2) The GLBT group I belong to is attacking the community center for making the space available to the BSA. The BSA doesn't protest the GLBT group using the space. The GLBT group is not going to stop using the space and find a new home. They suddenly want the community center to eject the BSA (both have been there for a number of years).

3) The BSA believes a certain thing. The GLBT believes a certain thing. They don't believe the same thing. GLBT is encouraging a public pressure on the community center.

4) Does anybody get to win?

I don't like hate/exclusion/archery or its propagation. I spent my time in the Navy and don't understand the hooplah about Gays in the military. I don't get what the BSA thinks its ban on gays accomplishes. If they're there, they're there. Some of the young scouts are about the age where they will just be coming aware of their sexual yen.

I am just curious what others think, too. My initial reaction to the letter was, "My GLBT group is a bunch of Plugs."

However, what others have said to me today resonates on a different plane than I was thinking on - so I am stepping back and thinking about it...

I guess the pressure thing is what it is - it works, it fails, it frustrates.

---

~ 08.12.01

I believe in a way I am glad that someone is choosing this battle -

But it took me off guard to find that a group I have identified with very well, and seen eye-to-eye with on so many issues is the group raising the battle cry.

And I find myself suddenly feeling outside the group.

My people. My tribe.

I think that writing this out has helped me see it is that really from which my initial reaction comes.

TMI Filter

A TMI filter is desperately needed in the world:

I work in a company that is all about customers and their personal issues and the things they will confide in over the phone, in their anonymity.

Some of my favorites phone calls:

1) My husband is having an affair and if I don't lose weight he will leave me for good.

2) I like large women, and there are two I am in a relationship with. There is nothing better than being in bed with them together, but I am concerned for their health. What would you consider too large?

3) I have Syndrome X and Disease Y and because of the medication I am on, I can't eat certain foods because they give me the runs. Oh, and sometimes my urine burns.

4) Yes, I am looking to start a diet plan of some kind and, oh, hold on a moment - [person then takes the phone away from their mouth and begins screaming BLOODY murder and all kind of heinous threats and inappropriate things at her child in the other room and then returns, sweet as candy to the phone] - sorry about that, sometimes that kid makes me --- Goddamnit you little bastard!!! *click*

That last call made me wish I could have gotten her address and called the authorities in quickly. I watched the news for her for a few days.

And their are always assorted nose blowings, chunky burps, and toilet flushings that have always made me glad to be on the other end of the phone. Urp, indeed.

End of Work Day Ramblings.

Just wanted to type some random thoughts... my diary was getting lonely. Feeling neglected.

It's Friday the 13th.

- ooo ooo ooo -

Be very afraid.

I haven't noticed anything too peculiar about today. Traffic was hideous. I drove all over hell and creation with jobs today, returned to the office, and my reminder popped up on my calendar (that I snoozed this morning) - I didn't do the ONE most important thing I was supposed to do on my drive around the Beltway.

duh.

Dinner with friends this evening, and maybe a movie. Nice party to go to tomorrow evening.

The weekend is here.

Mr. Manners

Rudeness, it's not just directed at ladies anymore. It happens to us little guys, too.

Returning from Key West, in Miami SubSpace Station and Airport, Mr. Ireland and I decided a coffee was needed. I spied a Starbucks and scooted over to join the line. Mr. Ireland tells me what he wants and turns to go sit down.

As I am standing there, tall-white-haired-tweed-coat-corduroy-patches-with-glasses authoritatively takes a haughty stance in FRONT of me, joining the line ahead of me, and making no eye contact with me.

I said, "Excuse me, sir."

No response, no turning, no blinking.

I said, "Excuse me, sir."

No response, no turning, no blinking.

I pick up my carry-on bag, squeeze into the spare inches between him and the person who was in front of me before he came along.

I take my own authoritative, slightly shaking stance facing him, back to the line.

He continues to look up at the menu board, looks down at his watch, yawns, and then walks away from the Starbucks and me, heading off as if to find a faster coffeeplace somewhere else.

Seconds later, he reappears around the corner, money in hand, sees me in line, looks at his watch and goes to sit in a chair at one of the gates, reading a newspaper.

I wanted justice.

But really what peeved me is that he never even acknowledged my award-winning performance as a waiting-in-line-person done wrong.

Is society really growing increasingly selfish and rude, or is it just a coincidence that more and more of these types of things seem to happen everyday?

Conscience: Hey, is that a rhetorical question?

Akethan: Hmmm, you may be on to something.

Tip.

Tips.

What a good idea that can go so very bad. Pay a person just enough that they will show up for work, and then allow the customer to determine what the service was worth - good if the customer isn't a cheap bastard and good if the waitstaff isn't as dumb as a post.

No offense to posts intended.

I tip 20% in almost every case. But my litmus for service is typically the closing of the meal, namely the delivery and retrieval of the bill with payment.

Restaurants use one of two methods, the open plate on which rests the receipt (face down is best), or the secretive bill-fold in which hides the bill. This is a little more distinctive, but tends to lend itself to a question I cannot abide, "Would you like change?"

WOULD I LIKE CHANGE?

Don't ever ask me this. Tip goes directly to ZERO and cannot be resuscitated, no matter how sweet you may have been during the entire meal. DOA.

Such an ignorant question - so presumptuous and rude. How about, "I will be right back with your receipt/change/what-have-you."? How about that? That gives me the option to say, "That would be nice, thank you," or perhaps, "No change, thank you." That is my option to exercise, not the waitstaff to assume.

Have you met the victims of assumptions? Always the last to know.

WOULD I LIKE CHANGE?

Grrrr... that question burns me. Bad question. Bad.

Then, let's just say we have survived this test, here's the second part which you must be clever enough to dodge: You are bringing me change, this change will be used to make a tip, don't make me have to ask you to break the change in to smaller change so that I may tip appropriately.

If the change is fifty bucks from one hundred, don't bring me a ten and two twenties. That is an assumption that you are due a 20% tip. It irks me. It makes me want to leave you the metal coins and a handwritten note to your parents about their rearing techniques. Maybe even the need to finally wean you.

How about a twenty, two tens, a five, and five ones. That is respactable and earns you your 20% for not being an ass.umer.

Have you met the victims of assumptions? Always the last to know.

I guess this is really asking a lot of a wait person. I really am good for the 20%. I know a lot of people I eat with are clueless and tip poorly; I attempt to educate where I can. I was educated by a friend who waits tables for a living. And MAKES a living at it. I understand it better, though I only waited tables for one evening in my life. That one evening was all it took to convince me not to do it again. And that a wait person, even some of the worst, work very hard to keep it all together and not plunge a steak knife in the heart of an aggressive diner.

WARNING: Aggressive diner imaging in use.

Put the fork down, step out of the booth, sir.

The Ownership of Prayer

Hot. Sticky. Bleh.

Feeling angry last night and today. No reason in particular. Just angry. Then I get angry because I feel angry.

Came directly home from work and soaked in the hottest tub o' bubbles. Then did a whole scrub and mud mask thing trying to purge the mood. Alleviated it just a mite.

Up at 5:30am today - laundry, library, etc.

Thinking things - reading THE CONFESSIONS OF NAT TURNER. It's moving my mind, a little. The whole slavery thing repulses me - a feeling like turning inside-out. The reasoning logics laid by the white characters in the book as to why this institution was noble, and should remain intact, are amazing. How thoroughly we delude ourselves with the things that surround us. Comfort and laziness easily domineer a sense of right.

I have reached a point in the book at which the author points directly at Christianity as the base cause of so much that mangles society's best and brightest. It's a thought that is in my mind frequently - how much blind acceptance, and some words in a very thick, very old book written by mere men leads to so many of the most hateful acts against other people. Even others who believe in these doctrines just the same.

It boggles my mind. And then I was attacked the other day for saying to someone who is in a tough strait, "I'll keep you in my prayers."

You see, sirs, I am no Christian. Not even of the lowest demeanor.

And apparently there is a patent application longstanding that is pending to place the term "PRAYER" safely under the protection of its inventors: Christians.

I await the receipt of my cease & desist order. Until then I pray as I please.

And in Nat Turner, the character Gray brought this to a fine point to me this morning. He has been Nat's confessor prior to the trial. Nat's faith in the Bible gave him the conviction to begin his rebellion and uprising. He illustrates the galaxy, which is truly bigger than most minds can really wrap themselves around.

"Fancy that! Millions and even billions of stars all floatin' around in the vastness of space, separated by distances the mind can't even conceive of. Why, Reverend, the light we see from some of these stars must of left years before man hisself ever dwelt on earth! A millions years before Jesus Christ! How do you square that with your Christianity? How do you square that with God?"

Careful now, think before you answer.

Wishlist (ef)

This is the wishlist
I never wrote,
You never saw:
my crystalline complacency
restored
my frosted permanence
thawed.

You never smiled
and made me smile.
You never came
and stayed with me a while.

I wished for nothing
and have so much more.

You’ve asked for nothing.

This is the wishlist
I never wrote,
You never saw:
the hope of my faith
healed.
Within the ink unwritten
on the paper,
an unheard prayer
revealed.

Offstage (ef)

Every-so-often
a light comes on – it’s a brief success
in the history of illumination,
but its brilliance is unscalable
and when a light comes on
every-so-often
everything that is Past is burned.

• • •

The sweet chastity of the flowerless
fades when exposed to constant bloom
as birds cavort in seedy baths
as pistils & stamens let bees impale –
fungi set their spores asail, wide-eyed,
the unflowering sisterhood observes
in shocked silence.

But the expressions on their sweet faces
and the gleam in their eyes sparkles
like a pure Christmas morning
as initiates presented
Nature’s sexy violence.

• • •

Nervously, she looks offstage
and asks,
“How am I doing for time?”

Migration (ef)

Immense globe
heedless curve
catches the eye
as it rests on
the backs of
sleeping cats
a ball borne
by the swimming
circus seal clouds
a pandering iguanadon
drops its spin
with squeals
now the screen
of a gypsy’s
spangled curtain
perfumed with smoke
the migration
of every lost tribe
fixed to follow
the wild globe
unbreak the broken.