November 18: "Lesson for the Day," Orange Pancake, Laughter and Beauty

So, it was a long day, and I needed a laugh tonight.

Billy Collins made me laugh with this poem . . .

Lesson for the Day

by: Billy Collins

I didn't know Marianne Moore

had written a little ode to a steam roller

until this morning.  She has it walking

back and forth over the particles it has crushed.

She must have watched a lot of cartoons.

She also compares it to a butterfly unflatteringly.

I like it better when she speaks to a snail.

It's pleasurable to picture her in a garden

bending forward in her dated black clothes

and her tilted black triangle of a hate,

as she seriously addresses the fellow curled in its shell.

But when I see her standing before the big drum

of a steam roller and saying not very nice things,

only one eventuality every comes to mind,

for I, too, am a serious student of cartoons.

And no one wants to avoid seeing

a flattened Marianne Moore hanging out to dry

on a clothesline or propped up

as a display in a store window more than I.

It's a surreal image, right out of a Road Runner cartoon--Wile E. Coyote falling victim to one of his traps and being flattened by a boulder or anvil.  It happens over and over.  I used to watch those Looney Tunes religiously every Saturday morning with a bowl of Lucky Charms in my lap.

So a flattened Marianne Moore hanging on a clothesline is pretty dang funny to me.  Sure, I know those cartoons are incredibly violent and have fallen out of parental favor, but I literally grew up with them.  They defined my childhood.  

Tonight, upon reading the above poem, I thought about other people I'd like to see flattened by a steam roller.  Of course, the top of that list is the Felon in Chief.  I'd love to see him reduced to a two-dimensional orange pancake.  (Don't misinterpret what I'm saying.  I am not advocating violence against the man.  I just find pleasure in picturing him as a crepe.)  

Sometimes, I have to embrace the absurd in order to cope with a world that seems to be falling apart.  I also embrace beauty, and, now that the holiday season is fast approaching, all I have to do is go for a walk to find it.  Tonight I noticed a beautiful light display across from my daughter's apartment, and it was a blessing.

Laughter and beauty.  That's all Saint Marty has to offer tonight.

September 27: "Poem," Spirit, Aubri

Mary Oliver gets into the spirit of things . . . 

Poem

by:  Mary Oliver

The spirit

     likes to dress up like this:

          ten fingers,

               ten toes,

shoulders, and all the rest

     at night

          in the black branches,

               in the morning

in the blue branches

     of the world.

          It could float, of course,

               but would rather

plumb rough matter.

     Airy and shapeless thing,

           it needs

               the metaphor of the body,

lime and appetite,

     the oceanic fluids;

          it needs the body's world,

               instinct

and imagination

     and the dark hug of time,

          sweetness

               and tangibility,

to be understood,

     to be more than pure light

          that burns

               where no one is--

so it enters us--

     in the morning

          shines from brute comfort

               like a stitch of lightning;

and at night

     lights up the deep and wondrous

          drownings of the body

              like a star.

Tonight, Mary Oliver writes about the spirit in her poem "Poem."  The spirit that shines like a stitch of lightning.  That enters the body and lights it up like a star at night.  We can't touch the spirit, or see its airy and shapeless form, until it's clothed in the brute comfort of flesh and breath.  Yet, it is always there.

Tonight, I am writing about the spirit, as well.  Everyone knows a person whose spirit is so bright it can't be completely contained in a body.  A person who lights up the air like a swarm of fireflies.  I've had the privilege of having a few people like this in my life--individuals who've made my journey better just by being in it.  Because of their kindness and humor and compassion.

My niece, Aubri, celebrated her golden birthday today--27 on the 27th.  On more than one occasion in the past, she has reached out to me when I've been struggling with darkness, just to let me know that I'm loved and important to her.  In the deepest wells of my life, she has shared her light and laughter with me, and, in doing so, she's reminded me to look up and see the sun and stars.

So, even though an ocean separates us this evening, I want to send her joy and peace, to let her know that her spirit is a lighthouse to me.  A beacon that makes me smile, fills me with hope.  Because after a long night, the dawn comes with laughter and beauty.  Everyone needs an Aubri in their lives.

On her golden day, Saint Marty wishes his niece all the blessings the universe has to offer.