Saturday, March 08, 2003

Coming soon ...

Anselm & Ashbery. But especially Anselm.

Or, what I found this day at the used bookstore ...
This picture



could use a caption, couldn't it?

Place suggestions in the comment-box.
Karl Rahner, of all people

Two different weblogs this week have shown this theologian to advantage :

At Dappled Things, a meditation on the Heart of Christ from the eighth volume of Theological Investigations ...

... and at the Catholic Blog for Lovers, birthday wishes for the theologian, and a gentle exhortation not to dismiss the earlier work because of the later.
BJG vs DMN
redux


Fr Groeschel's response to that piece (or piece of ... ) in the Dallas Morning News.

Via Annunciations.
Today, this insect
by Dylan Thomas (1914-1953)


Today, this insect, and the world I breathe,
Now that my symbols have outelbowed space,
Time at the city spectacles, and half
The dear, daft time I take to nudge the sentence,
In trust and tale have I divided sense,
Slapped down the guillotine, the blood-red double
Of head and tail made witnesses to this
Murder of Eden and green genesis.

The insect certain is the plague of fables.

This story's monster has a serpent caul,
Blind in the coil scrams round the blazing outline,
Measures his own length on the garden wall
And breaks his shell in the last shocked beginning;
A crocodile before the chrysalis,
Before the fall from love the flying heartbone,
Winged like a sabbath ass this children's piece
Uncredited blows Jericho on Eden.

The insect fable is the certain promise.

Death : death of Hamlet and the nightmare madmen,
An air-drawn windmill on a wooden horse,
John's beast, Job's patience, and the fibs of vision,
Greek in the Irish sea the ageless voice :
'Adam I love, my madmen's love is endless,
No tell-tale lover has an end more certain,
All legends' sweethearts on a tree of stories,
My cross of tales behind the fabulous curtain.'


from The Collected Poems of Dylan Thomas (New Directions, 1954), pp. 47-48

Friday, March 07, 2003

In the margin of this weblog

you can now find a daily proverb (underneath "Within more last" and above Places Oft) ...
Abortionists

in addition to their other evils, protect statutory rapists, according to this article -- spotted at Fructus Ventris.
Wednesday
an acrostic


Sometimes, a flurry vexes the northern pines.
I claim these woods, these hospitable forest-frosts;
Wonder lives here. You can discern its ample majesty
If you simply listen to its limpid silences.
I'm a wholesomer chap in these wintry precincts,
Able to chill, keep fretfulness on the down-low,
To meditate as eastern polymaths
Do quite oft during soberest Twelfthmonth.
The deep tmesis of these gray mornings, these
Things of dim sound, of mute glow -- quanta dolcezza !
I seem fresh out of phrases, for real; they've all been
Said and resaid, old school, the gaveller's going-gone.
I resort to sly vernacularities, word-somersaults :
Would that the snowflakes could respond in kind !


2001
Notable quotation

The only difference between the Surrealists and me is that I am a Surrealist.
Salvador Dalí
Spotted at Video meliora ...

Thomas Hibbs at National Review gives us a cheerfully depressing denunciation of February vacation, a weeklong pause in the damage inflicted by academic activity of Massachusetts schools.

Also he quotes Keats, praises Jack Nicholson, and harbors "the radical if forlorn hope that Massachusetts will someday adopt a two-party system" (for offices besides governor) ...

Thursday, March 06, 2003

Yes

The biggest problem facing some members of the black community is not the color of their skin, but the thinness of it. Such people will never find happiness in this life or the next as long as their lives are one endless and microscopic search for things to take offense at.

Mark Shea, three weeks ago, on this story.
A New Zealand woman

has offered to be crucified by President George W. Bush in exchange for a guarantee that the US will not launch a military strike on Iraq.

Via the Rat. We are inclined to agree with the Rat's assessment -- that the woman from New Zealand has her cabeza firmly and cozily ensconced in proctology's paradise.
I hate to break this to you, Mr Morrison .......

but if you've recently turned 40, you are not beginning your fourth decade of life. You have just ended it.

Forty years = four complete decades.

You are beginning your fifth decade. Just as I am approximately 37.5% of the way through with my fourth.

A child who is 18 months old (1.5 years old) is not in his first year of life; he's in his second. When he turns two, he begins his third year.

Am I turning into the mathematical version of nihil obstat? Oh well.
Te Deum Laudamus
by request


Te Deum laudamus : te Dominum confitemur.
Te aeternum Patrem omnis terra veneratur.

Tibi omnes Angeli; tibi caeli et universae Potestates;
Tibi Cherubim et Seraphim incessabili voce proclamant:
Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth.
Pleni sunt caeli et terra maiestatis gloriae tuae.

Te gloriosus Apostolorum chorus,
Te Prophetarum laudabilis numerus,
Te Martyrum candidatus laudat exercitus.

Te per orbem terrarum sancta confitetur Ecclesia,
Patrem immensae maiestatis:
Venerandum tuum verum et unicum Filium;
Sanctum quoque Paraclitum Spiritum.

Tu Rex gloriae, Christe.
Tu Patris sempiternus es Filius.
Tu ad liberandum suscepturus hominem, non horruisti Virginis uterum.
Tu, devicto mortis aculeo, aperuisti credentibus regna caelorum.
Tu ad dexteram Dei sedes, in gloria Patris.
Iudex crederis esse venturus.
Te ergo quaesumus, tuis famulis subveni : quos pretioso sanguine redemisti.
Aeterna fac cum sanctis tuis in gloria numerari.


Salvum fac populum tuum, Domine, et benedic hereditati tuae.
Et rege eos, et extolle illos usque in aeternum.
Per singulos dies benedicimus te.
Et laudamus nomen tuum in saeculum, et in saeculum saeculi.
Dignare, Domine, die isto sine peccato nos custodire.
Miserere nostri, Domine, miserere nostri.
Fiat misericordia tua, Domine, super nos, quemadmodum speravimus in te.
In te, Domine, speravi: non confundar in aeternum.


[The English translation of the 1928 Book of Common Prayer can be found here.]
I should try that sometime

Someone I worked with a few years ago told of being at Mass one Sunday, and at the exchange of peace, a cranky four-year-old child -- with an impeccably misanthropic attitude toward people thrusting their mitts at him and demanding a handshake -- shouted, "I DON'T WANT PEACE!"
Great Lent

for Orthodox Christians begins on March 10th; in anticipation, here is the Archpastoral Message of His Beatitude Metropolitan HERMAN, Metropolitan of All America and Canada. At the OCA website.
Incarnate devil
by Dylan Thomas (1914-1953)


Incarnate devil in a talking snake,
The central plains of Asia in his garden,
In shaping-time the circle stung awake,
In shapes of sin forked out the bearded apple,
And God walked there who was a fiddling warden
And played down pardon from the heavens' hill.

When we were strangers to the guided seas,
A handmade moon half holy in a cloud,
The wisemen tell me that the garden gods
Twined good and evil on an eastern tree;
And when the moon rose windily it was
Black as the beast and paler than the cross.

We in our Eden knew the secret guardian
In sacred waters that no frost could harden,
And in the mighty mornings of the earth;
Hell in a horn of sulphur and the cloven myth,
All heaven in a midnight of the sun,
A serpent fiddled in the shaping-time.


From The Collected Poems of Dylan Thomas (New Directions, 1954), p. 46.
John Montague

Hinge of silence
            creak for us
Rose of darkness
            unfold for us
Wood anemone
            sway for us
Blue harebell
            bend for us
Moist fern
            unfurl for us
Springy moss
            uphold us
Branch of pleasure
            lean on us
Leaves of delight
            murmur for us
Odorous wood
            breathe on us
Evening dews
            pearl for us
Secret waterfall
            pour for us
Hidden cleft
            speak to us
Portal of delight
            inflame us
Hill of motherhood
            wait for us
Gate of Birth
            open for us


J. Montague, quoted in Seamus Heaney's Preoccupations : Selected Prose 1968-1978 (FSG, 1980), p. 143.
Meditation on a March Wind
by Sister Mary Gilbert (dates unknown)


Should man oppose a rash rigidity
Then may the mad March strip his proud, resisting limbs
And strew the green, incipient wonder
Of his May afar;
Or may the hailstones fall as loud as summer thunder
And blast his springtime promise to an ugly scar
Before white glory rims
The naked silhouette of undelivered tree.

What childless woe to kill the unborn flower!
To summon back a fruitless world of frost
Wherein no womb-life stirs, no leafy shoot.
Wed pliancy to wisdom : let the anchored root
Give leash to swaying branches, Spirit-tossed
To pinnacles of trust and quiet power.


From Joyce Kilmer's Anthology of Catholic Poets, with a supplement edited by James Edward Tobin (Liveright, 1955), p. 356.

Wednesday, March 05, 2003

I can't believe it!

There she goes again!

She's tidied up ... and I can't find anything !!
Anyone else

sick of Yahoo's anti-Americanism?
Irish stuff redux
from the Carmina Gadelica


THE INVOCATION OF THE GRACES

I bathe thy palms
In showers of wine,
In the lustral fire,
In the seven elements,
In the juice of the rasps,
In the milk of honey,
And I place the nine pure choice graces
In thy fair fond face,
The grace of form,
The grace of voice,
The grace of fortune,
The grace of goodness,
The grace of wisdom,
The grace of charity,
The grace of choice maidenliness,
The grace of whole-souled loveliness,
The grace of goodly speech.

Dark is yonder town,
Dark are those therein,
Thou art the brown swan,
Going in among them.
Their hearts are under thy control,
Their tongues are beneath thy sole,
Nor will they ever utter a word
To give thee offence.

A shade art thou in the heat,
A shelter art thou in the cold,
Eyes art thou to the blind,
A staff art thou to the pilgrim,
An island art thou at sea,
A fortress art thou on land,
A well art thou in the desert,
Health art thou to the ailing.

Thine is the skill of the Fairy Woman,
Thine is the virtue of Bride the calm,
Thine is the faith of Mary the mild,
Thine is the tact of the woman of Greece,
Thine is the beauty of Emir the lovely,
Thine is the tenderness of Darthula delightful,
Thine is the courage of Maebh the strong,
Thine is the charm of Binne-bheul.

Thou art the joy of all joyous things,
Thou art the light of the beam of the sun,
Thou art the door of the chief of hospitality,
Thou art the surpassing star of guidance,
Thou art the step of the deer of the hill,
Thou art the step of the steed of the plain,
Thou art the grace of the swan of swimming,
Thou art the loveliness of all lovely desires.

The lovely likeness of the Lord
Is in thy pure face,
The loveliest likeness that
Was upon earth.

The best hour of the day be thine,
The best day of the week be thine,
The best week of the year be thine,
The best year in the Son of God's domain be thine.

Peter has come and Paul has come,
James has come and John has come,
Muriel and Mary Virgin have come,
Uriel the all-beneficent has come,
Ariel the beauteousness of the young has come,
Gabriel the seer of the Virgin has come,
Raphael the prince of the valiant has come,
And Michael the chief of the hosts has come,
And Jesus Christ the mild has come,
And the Spirit of true guidance has come,
And the King of kings has come on the helm,
To bestow on thee their affection and their love,
To bestow on thee their affection and their love.


***************

And here it is, if you like, in Gaelic !!
And speaking of dappled things !!

A beautiful diptych at Gerard Serafin's praiseofglory.com : a picture in words by Gerard Manley Hopkins (Glory be to God for dappled things, &c.) and a picture in paint by Marc Chagall.
From Dappled Things today

Part of Fr Jim Tucker's Ash Wednesday sermon :

Lent reminds us that Catholics don't believe in a once-in-a-lifetime conversion, after which no further work is necessary. Every day, we are called into deeper conformity to Christ Jesus, every day we are called to conversion. Lent helps to make that possible. Our penances aim in two directions, inward and outward. Inwardly, our goal is to conquer our selfishness, pride, and self-indulgence through works of self-discipline and asceticism. Outwardly, our goal is to grow in holy charity -- love and service for God, and love and service for our neighbor. Our penances are successful to the degree that they lead us to accomplish those goals. Throughout Lent, periodically ask yourself: am I becoming less self-centered; am I concretely loving and serving God more fully; am I concretely growing in charity toward my neighbor? And if not, why not?
Lent
by Eric Milner-White (1884-1961)


Lord, bless to me this Lent.

Lord, let me fast most truly and profitably,
by feeding in prayer on thy Spirit :
reveal me to myself
in the light of thy holiness.

Suffer me never to think
that I have knowledge enough to need no teaching,
wisdom enough to need no correction,
talents enough to need no grace,
goodness enough to need no progress,
humility enough to need no repentance,
devotion enough to need no quickening,
strength sufficient without thy Spirit;
lest, standing still, I fall back for evermore.

Shew me the desires that should be disciplined,
and sloths to be slain.
Shew me the omissions to be made up
and the habits to be mended.
And behind these, weaken, humble, and annihilate in me
self-will, self-righteousness, self-satisfaction,
self-sufficiency, self-assertion, vainglory.

May my whole effort be to return to thee;
O make it serious and sincere
persevering and fruitful in result,
by the help of thy Holy Spirit
and to thy glory,
my Lord and my God.


E. Milner-White, My God, My Glory : Aspirations, Acts, and Prayers on the Desire for God, ed. Joyce Huggett (Triangle/SPCK, 1994), p. 29
Carmina Gadelica

Hymns and poems in both English and Gaelic. Found it, stumbled onto it, whilst searching for something else. O happy find!
Lent
by George Herbert (1593-1633)


Welcome deare feast of Lent : who loves not thee,
He loves not Temperance, or Authoritie,
                        But is compos'd of passion.
The Scriptures bid us fast; the Church sayes, now :
Give to thy Mother, what thou wouldst allow
                        To ev'ry Corporation.

The humble soul compos'd of love and fear
Begins at home, and layes the burden there,
                        When doctrines disagree.
He sayes, in things which use hath justly got,
I am a scandall to the Church, and not
                        The Church is so to me.

True Christians should be glad of an occasion
To use their temperance, seeking no evasion,
                        When good is seasonable;
Unlesse Authoritie, which should increase
The obligation in us, make it lesse,
                        And Power it self disable.

Besides the cleannesse of sweet abstinence,
Quick thoughts and motions at a small expense,
                        A face not fearing light:
Whereas in fulnesse there are sluttish fumes,
Sowre exhalations, and dishonest rheumes,
                        Revenging the delight.

Then those same pendant profits, which the spring
And Easter intimate, enlarge the thing,
                        And goodnesse of the deed.
Neither ought other mens abuse of Lent
Spoil the good use; lest by that argument
                        We forfeit all our Creed.

It 's true, we cannot reach Christ's fortieth day;
Yet to go part of that religious way,
                        Is better than to rest:
We cannot reach our Savior's purity;
Yet are bid, Be holy ev'n as he.
                        In both let 's do our best.

Who goeth in the way which Christ hath gone,
Is much more sure to meet with him, than one
                        That travelleth by-ways:
Perhaps my God, though he be far before,
May turn, and take me by the hand, and more
                        May strengthen my decays.

Yet Lord instruct us to improve our fast
By starving sin and taking such repast
                        As may our faults control:
That ev'ry man may revel at his door,
Not in his parlor; banqueting the poor,
                        And among those his soul.
Is it quite proper
to begin the liturgical season with a gastronomic "this or that"?


1. Soup or salad?
Soup. Except, perhaps, in summer.

2. Hot or cold sandwiches?
Cold.

3. White or whole wheat bread (or rye, etc)?
Ça m'est égal.

4. Pack a lunch for work/school, or buy it?
Only time I pack a lunch is long bus rides.

5. If you eat out...fast-food chain, or mom & pop type place?
Chili's is quite often good, but I like mom & pop diners. I love the whole concept of diners. Particularly those that look like converted bus, trolley, or train cars. And limitless gallons of coffee, and smiles, and sun (but not too much). Breakfast in a diner. In the country. Or even in the city, if you can find a really good one. Nothing beats it. Forgive this unlenten hankering all of a sudden for a stack of sixteen blueberry pancakes in syrup. And eggs, with all the cholesterol. And orange juice, with all the fructose.

6. Tuna or chicken salad?
Salad is green and leafy. To turn meat into salad is something I've never understood. TUNA!!!

7. Cheese: Swiss or cheddar (or American, etc)?
Provolone, by the fragrant chunk. Auricchio! Bel Gioioso.

8. Mustard or mayo?
Mustard.

9. Sandwiches: wrap/pita pocket, or regular bread/roll?
Regular.

10. Sweet stuff: cookie/cake or fresh fruit?
Think Sesame Street. Think blue and hairy.

Tuesday, March 04, 2003

Tired with all these

for restful sleep I cry ... good night, all.
This post

has been deleted.
Mark Shea

on the Dallas paper's article on Fr Groeschel ... getting it, from my perspective, just about right.

Other commendable commentaries have come from Michael Dubruiel and from Domenico Bettinelli.

A substantial portion of the Dallas paper's article has been quoted by MCNS of Ad Orientem.
Why Democrats are in the soup

A Catholicity.com article by Dan Coyne on Catholic Democrats who used to be pro-life, then got presidential ambitions. The embrace of "choice" is compared to Catholics in 19th-century Ireland "sipping the soup" (see the article).

Ted Kennedy among them! His 1971 remarks were news to me. Someone should quote them back to him sometime.

Via Honk.
The waiting is the hardest part

Rejection letter from the poetry editor of First Things arrived in the mail yesterday. Poems were submitted in August 2002 !!

Monday, March 03, 2003

Another blogger out there
(the rap is on friar!)


seems to believe that the media have the charism of ex cathedra infallibility when it comes to the church's sex-abuse scandal, and that Fr Benedict Groeschel, the nation's pre-eminent Franciscan, is full of what makes the grass grow for suggesting that the media have an anti-RC bias, and that this bias has let to false depictions of a bigger crisis than that which actually exists.

Harrumph. And I say yet again, "Harrumph!" Groeschel might have committed some rhetorical hyperbole here and there, but the anti-RC bias of the PMS Media can't be denied ...

Yet another blogger, a week or so ago, had an extensive summary of Fr Groeschel's recent remarks to a gathering in Natick, Massachusetts. I'll try to find those. But suffice it to say, Fr G does not believe that the scandal is an invention of the media. He just doesn't think they're being invariably helpful, or confining themselves to the known facts, when reporting.

But the media have a duty to investigate these serious charges ... Talk of a bias is bosh ...

Hmm. Well. OK. But when was the last time you heard the name Juanita Broaddrick on the evening news?

There is a definite double standard.

Have the bishops been glorious & wonderful & inspiring? Well, no. On a number of issues, one could find plenty to deride the bishops about.

But to bash Fr Groeschel for his basic thesis that there's a media bias, that a lot of the criticism of the Church is scattershot and not at all constructive, that a lot of people are taking joy in the predicament of the church ... don't expect me to greet that with applause, or with an ounce of sympathy!
Holy Limerick !!

I admit to the presence of bias :
Of the nuns, I like Sister Matthias.
She dispels satan's guile
With a prayer and a smile --
People needn't be grim to be pious!
Glory be to God

for Fr Jim at Dappled Things, who gives us the "Good, True, and Beautiful for Lent" -- an essay on God, who is summum bonum, summum verum, summum pulchrum -- and how we should have the recollection of these qualities before us throughout this coming Lent.

It is Fr Jim's happy fortune to have given us this day an example of beautiful, true, and good writing! Writing that encourages, and that speaks (in some of its particulars) directly, it seems, to this reader ... his remarks on the Mass, especially, inspire gratitude.
If we sin gravely, does God stop listening?

A fellow blogger wonders about the efficacy of prayer when one is not in the state of grace, or if one thinks one has disgraced oneself. Should one pray, or has God stopped listening?

I think all the saints would concur : Pray, for heaven's sake!! Pray a little, pray a lot, but just pray! God never stops listening! ... (unless we're tempted to agree with Archie Bunker that "God don't hear nobody till Sunday")!

St Maximilian Kolbe's writings appear from time to time in the Catholic monthly prayerbook Magnificat; and I believe it was he who said, (my paraphrase) "If I had sinned heinously, gravely, extremely, -- if I had fallen lower than the lowest -- I would pick myself up & instantly fling myself into the heart of the Immaculata." Or words to that effect.

Or take the psalms. Wasn't the author of Psalm 51 ("Have mercy on me, O Lord, in the greatness of your compassion ... Against you only have I sinned") or of Psalm 69 ("Save me, O Lord, for the waters rise to my neck; I stick fast in the deep mire") in a somewhat ungraced state when he raised these prayers of penitence and complaint?

And in the Rosary, we have the Hail Mary, which acknowledges that we are sinners, who need to pray --and be prayed for -- up to the hour of our death; and the Fatima prayer, which urgently beseeches the Lord, "Lead all souls to heaven, especially those in most need of thy mercy."

And there is St Isaac of Syria's meditation, which I've blogged before ... "Do not despair on account of your stumblings -- it is better to be wounded than dead," etc.

Yes, do keep praying!


Addendum

'It often happens that Satan will insidiously commune with you in your heart and say: "Think of the evil you have done; your soul is full of lawlessness, you are weighed down by many grievous sins." Do not let him deceive you when he does this and do not be led to despair on the pretext that you are being humble. What was the purpose of His descent to earth except to save sinners, to bring light to those in darkness and life to the dead?'

-- from the Macarian Homilies

to whom it may april march

Deitrich would be pronounced "dight rick."

... i before e when dealing with Hildebrand. Dietrich.

The "ie" in German makes the "ee" sound : Dieter, Wien, wiedersehen, Siegfried, Liebchen, sieben ...

Und so weiter!
And here (ouch!)

is Fred Reed, with his usual mixture of lyricism and battery acid, delivering the eulogy for the late snow-sculpture of Harvard Yard.
Peggy Noonan today

speaking the truth in charity about the Democratic Party in an open letter to Andrew Cuomo. Liberal snobbery, win-at-any-cost realpolitik, abstraction from the concerns of everyday human beings, a snide superiority on "values," woollyheadedness on crime, a rancid radicalism on prenatal infanticide, & dangerous flirtations with unpatriotism. Things which we all know, things which even the Democrats know but would prefer to forget.
Gertrude Stein
from the "Objects" section of Tender Buttons


A PURSE.

A purse was not green, it was not straw color, it was hardly seen and it had a use a long use and the chain, the chain was never missing, it was not misplaced, it showed that it was open, that is all that it showed.

A MOUNTED UMBRELLA.

What was the use of not leaving it there where it would hang what was the use if there was no chance of ever seeing it come there and show that it was handsome and right in the way it showed it. The lesson is to learn that it does show it, that it shows it and that nothing, that there is nothing, that there is no more to do about it and just so much more is there plenty of reason for making an exchange.

A CLOTH.

Enough cloth is plenty and more, more is almost enough for that and besides if there is no more spreading is there plenty of room for it. Any occasion shows the best way.

MORE.

An elegant use of foliage and grace and a little piece of white cloth and oil.

Wondering so winningly in several kinds of oceans is the reason that makes red so regular and enthusiastic. The reason that there is more snips are the same shining very colored rid of no round color.

A NEW CUP AND SAUCER.

Enthusiastically hurting a clouded yellow bud and saucer, enthusiastically so is the bite in the ribbon.

OBJECTS.

Within, within the cut and slender joint alone, with sudden equals and no more than three, two in the centre make two one side.

If the elbow is long and it is filled so then the best example is all together.

The kind of show is made by squeezing.

EYE GLASSES.

A color in shaving, a saloon is well placed in the centre of an alley.

A CUTLET.

A blind agitation is manly and uttermost.

CARELESS WATER.

No cup is broken in more places and mended, that is to say a plate is broken and mending does do that it shows that culture is Japanese. It shows the whole element of angels and orders. It does more to choosing and it does more to that ministering counting. It does, it does change in more water.

Supposing a single piece is a hair supposing more of them are orderly, does that show that strength, does that show that joint, does that show that balloon famously. Does it.

A PAPER.

A courteous occasion makes a paper show no such occasion and this makes readiness and eyesight and likeness and a stool.
Sleb quiz answer

Russell Crowe didn't belong, because he was the only one (New Zealand) not born in Australia. Gold medal to the blogueuse at Gospel M*I*N*E*F*I*E*L*D, and the silver to Oblique House.
Wishes, Lies, and Dreams : Teaching Children to Write Poetry

[untitled]
by Erin Harold, 4th grade

The pretzel is a Mrs. Wiener.
The rose is a ripe cherry.
The wasp is a scream from my big sister.
A bee is a jump underneath the bed by my sister.
A cloud is a kitten playing with a breeze.
A breeze is a string for a cloud to play with.
Is the sun a ball of string which the breeze was cut from?
Maybe, but the breeze is blue and the sun is orange.
Do the cloud cats drink the rain?
Maybe, but do they like it?
No, because it isn't milk.


***************

That's Odd
by Joel London, 5th grade

I am very unusual. People called me odd and this is why
I used to cry when everyone else laughed
But now I laugh when everyone else cries
I used to be born in 1957
But now I'm born in 1857 because my birth certificate was written wrong
I used to be married
But now I'm divorced
Yet today is my sixth birthday
I used to hate a person whose name I don't want to mention
But now I still hate her
I used to throw water balloons
But now I don't because one landed in a place I don't want to mention
I used to be able to scream
But now all I can do is whisper because of a voice defect.


Kenneth Koch and the children of PS 61, New York City, op. cit. (Vintage, 1971), p. 143, p. 173.

Sunday, March 02, 2003

Wishes, Lies, and Dreams : Teaching Children to Write Poetry

Anyway
by Tara Housman, 5th grade

The sky is blue as thunder, but
The cat is as striped as an airplane take-off
The globe is as round as the wind


**************

[Untitled]
by Debbie Novitsky, 5th grade

The waves in the ocean are curl-free
A classroom is like a cage
Bad weather is gloomy like our school paint
Wooden desks are like woodchucks
The snow was like tar
The flower is a grounded bird
The bees are like teachers
The girl was as pink as roses
The cat sang like Judy Garland
A heart jumps up and down like a Superball.


***************

Kenneth Koch and the children of PS 61, New York City, op. cit. (Vintage, 1971), p. 96, p. 98.
A line of Stein

Let Lucy Lily Lily Lucy Lucy let Lucy Lucy Lily Lily Lily Lily Lily let Lily Lucy Lucy let Lily. Let Lucy Lily.
We have a gold and a silver medalist in today's sleb quiz ! !

Bronze still up for grabs. Answer to be posted tomorrow.
NRO flashback

Jay Nordlinger on the left's irrational hatred for Attorney General John Ashcroft. Seven months old, but still worth reading.
What a cold and a rainy day

Cold and snowy wouldn't be bad, or bright and upper 40s, but there's something about upper 30s and rain that is just more dreadful than dreadful ... than dreadful than dreadful than dreadful.
from Playing Patience
section 68


A petal is little.
Carnations are large.
Reminder means more than remind.


1991
Sleb quiz

Which celebrity doesn't belong and why?

1. Russell Crowe (actor, Gladiator, &c.)
2. Anthony LaPaglia (actor, Without a Trace)
3. Louis Mandylor (actor, My Big Fat Greek Wedding)
4. Peter Garrett (musical performer, Midnight Oil)
5. Flea (Red Hot Chili Peppers)