As They Please by Te

As They Please
by Te

The trees dance.

on this crisp autumn morning
they sway
they jitterbug
as they please
they romance
as they please

and i watch as i waltz
looking longingly from
this masquerade ball
wanting nothing
but to strip off this facade
to step out of beat

but my feet won't flee
from the rhythm of
from the march to
this beat that leaves

my feet aching
my head pounding
my mind escaping

but only my mind

As I watch the trees
Dance as they please.

Ode to Frijoles (Redux)

Mark - I think you are right. I think this is better set in verse. I reread "Ode to Salt" by Pablo before revising, below.

  

My father was a good man

maybe even a great man

but he unraveled slowly

like an old wool sweater that got

snagged on the sharp edge of life,

straining ever since he landed

in Miami, a refugee from Cuba

with a coarse black mustache

who never quite fit in

never quite felt at home.

But my father could do one thing

that helped him forget where he was

and helped him remember who he was

and where he came from. He could cook

frijoles negros, Cuban-style.

Primero

first

sauté the onions

and don’t hurry them

let them turn golden

like the tropical sun.

Then

entonces

add the peppers

a little fire for the soul.

The frijoles too

must cook slowly —

three days, as many days

as Jesus was in the grave.

You’ll know when the frijoles are done

because you will not want anything else

for breakfast, lunch or dinner

when you first begin to smell

the bubbling, rich aroma

of God’s black frijoles.

You will run into the kitchen  

and you will beg me: Papi, please,

may I have the frijoles now?

And I will do exactly what my mother did

and my grandmother did, and all

the mothers and grandmothers of Cuba

as far back as anyone can remember.

I will pick you up in my arms and I will hand you

the special wooden spoon that I have used

to stir and stir and stir the frijoles

and I will say, Sí, mi querida, 

mi corazón. Yes, my darling, my love.

Take and eat. I have made this

all

for

you.

Meditation Reflection #21

(In response to entry #21 Life is Not a Means to an End from Thich Nhat Hanh's Your True Home)

Sometimes I want to just take Thay's book and words and throw it against the wall... That's not very mindful of me, is it?  It sounds impossible to live the life he speaks of here in the U.S.  I know it is possible in Plum Village, because I've been there. I've lived it and experienced it.  I was present to my life for 6 whole days: learning, making mistakes, smiling, bowing, sitting, washing dishes, and all mindfully.  And it was incredible.  But I don't know how to do that here.  I have such a hard time making happiness the way.  Instead, I search for a way to peace and happiness, and feel lost.  It's easy to say the words, read the words, and think, oh of course, that makes sense, sure wouldn't that be nice.  But it's a whole nother thing to actually figure out how to live the words.

I feel like a lot of life is spent as a means to an end.  You plan out what you want in life, and how you are going to get there.  Goals.  Goals aren't a bad thing to have are they?  Can you have in mind things you want to work towards and accomplish, while still appreciating each moment?  It seems like just accepting everything is a very passive way to live.  But Thay isn't saying to live passively, he's saying to live intentionally, and you have the power to make every moment, every action or non-action, intentional.  Can I work towards a future goal while being aware and fully alive in each step that I take to get there?

I have a difficult time saying the point of life is just to be aware that I am living.  I want to do something meaningful with my life.  If not, what's my purpose?  What's anyone's purpose?  If we all just sat around and breathed and smiled at each other, that would get so boring.  There would be nothing new or creative.  There would be no celebration.  What about art and music and dancing?  What about expressing the full range of emotions including sorrow, and outrage, and fear, and exuberance?  What's so great and desirable about just being calm, wise, practical, slow, and intentional all the time?  I think there's more to being human and the human experience than just floating on a still pond. 

What Hunger Looks Like

Hunger is the substitute teacher whose name has yet to be called.
Hunger is the Salvadoran guerilla fighter who used to feed his whole town.
Hunger is the couple who only have the streets to call home.
Hunger is the girl who skips school so her son can have something to eat.
Hunger is the soldier who gained PTSD when he lost an arm.
Hunger is the grandmother, too afraid to ask for help.
Huger is the children, consuming government mass-produced meals.
Hunger is the Mexican immigrant, still trying to find a safe home.
Hunger is the family, whose children do not qualify.
Hunger is the businessman, who does not need a second explanation of the recession.

Writing with Annie, Northwest Coffee, April 2012

It's easy to be in the present moment
With Anne Fitzgerald
I want to listen
I want to be receptive
I want to assure her
That Jesus was right:
You, Annie Fitzgerald, are the light of Gibson Avenue
The light beaming whenever you and Becca Feldmann are together
The light giving comfort at your grandma's memorial service

We were present to each other
That Saturday afternoon in April
We did writing practice
It was your first time in a  long while
You had a brand new notebook untouched
I gave us a topic
"Go for 20 minutes"
And off we went

Metta Meditation Modified

May you be filled with lovingkindness (even through all this) May you be well (despite the tempestuous circumstances)
May you be peaceful and at ease (though this may seem remote)
May you be happy (at least in this present moment)

Just Another Night at Café Illumination

After the talk on Operation Cast Lead
Carla Nguyen and I headed over to Café Illumination
Where we began processing what we heard

We sat outside as it was a balmy night
Odd how calm we felt
After the typical brouhaha and sparks flying

We were surprised
When an older man approached us
"Hi, the name's Cal...

I saw you at the Palestine speaker
Damn! -- That one guy got pretty hot
And no one was there to support him"