| She Can Be |
[Apr. 15th, 2009|10:34 am] |
She can be,
(me, me)
by the failing sea
(me, me)
light on the sand
(hand, hand)
supplement the land
(hand, hand)
build something new
(you, you)
say something true
(you, you, you)
and then voyage unknown
(grown, grown)
new flesh on the bone
(grown, grown)
tomorrow seeds are sewn,
(sewn, sewn)
and she can be.
-Douglas,
Thinking about Beagley anniversary, love, recent events, and trying to keep up with NaPoWriMo.
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| Sharing a Table |
[Mar. 21st, 2009|12:05 pm] |
Sharing Our Table with a Family at Bruegger’s
Kids eat when they’re hungry
I have thousands of napkins
coloring makes him forget that he was hungry
my hat has fire on it
his hat has Superman
my bagel looks round, like a baseball
made of wheat.
Do you like the maple-walnut cream cheese?
You should have some of this apple, too
You have to share the milk
it’s cold, mom, the milk is cold
don’t get so distracted that you don’t eat
Jeffrey has a black and blue fleece
Simon is wearing his father’s old hat
It has Superman on it and the orange part is frayed
This picture looks like a fish
What’s that one?
Mom, I want to draw this one.
My bagel looks round, like a baseball, not like a tire.
These are letters of words scrambled up.
That is a puzzle for older kids,
so it might be a little hard.
That picture looks like a potato,
but what else could it be?
What kind of egg would go in a salad?
A hard-boiled egg!
Yes!
Did we steal your chair?
I condensed us. I put us in two chairs.
We have not bought any bagels.
We are here for the heat, the company. The WiFi.
We are not buying any bagels.
We are not buying any coffee.
Mom’s bagel is round, like a baseball.
You should have a bit of my apple.
That picture is one of your favorite vegetables.
Cucumber!
What are the dark things, mom?
We stole her chair.
No, you have to stay with us.
Sit down in your chair.
We will be here longer than you,
because we have not bought any bagels,
we are here to type what we think
while you think things that we can not type.
Jenn bought some naked juice.
We are not buying any bagels.
You’re eating your bagel so funnily.
Mom, give me another hint.
Simon wants to run on the stairs.
Finish that half. Do you like the maple walnut cream cheese?
Is it better than strawberry?
Is it peppers?
Yes! Good job.
Finish that half, first.
No, finish that half, first.
Let’s put the chair back where it was. |
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| Love is a Renewable Resource |
[Feb. 18th, 2009|11:17 am] |
Love is a renewable resource,
and the human spirit is a magic well:
the one place in the universe
where the fairy tales are true,
the one place where growth is sustainable,
where there is no “peak” energy,
where we can sprawl together without environmental impact,
where a voice or a smile or a focused gaze
can fulfill wishes, draw something out of nothing,
and the water can feed a thousand fields and still run clear.
Love is a renewable resource,
and the human spirit is a magic well.
5 Things You Think Will Make You Happy (But Won't) |
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| I am 33 |
[Feb. 12th, 2009|09:45 am] |
I am thirty-three today
(and about as many hairs are gray)
I am thirty-three today
(and a third of a century at the end of May)
I am thirty-three today
(and I feel fine, normal, okay)
I am thirty-three today
(and I’ve found many paths, if not my way)
I am thirty-three today,
and though I’ve checked, I’m still not fey,
and I still love, laugh, and mentally stray,
and stuff my life with a plentiful bouquet,
and struggle to define, invent, portray,
and speak little German, mostly parle anglais,
and believe the secret of life is in Groundhog Day,
and want your body in a well-mannered way,
and spend my life staring at a liquid crystal display--
I am thirty-three today,
and I have so much more that I need to say.
--Douglas K. Beagley, 2/12/2009 |
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| IMs From a Portrait Photographer |
[Sep. 18th, 2008|04:20 pm] |
IMs From a Portrait Photographer
It is odd to stare at a frozen face
for an hour or a day
and smudge away each and every flaw
until the face is honest and bright
a song of youth and of knowledge
keen eyes in black and white
suitable for the masses
the flickering clicks and dabs
years of torment shuttered nicely
the ink jets paint only what they see
red eye covered by a dark black dot
(inspired by A. Parent) |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 10th, 2008|11:05 am] |
It was (bizarrely) more difficult to rhyme Kristin with things than Andrew. Maybe I need more coffee.
Many happy birthdays to my friend ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) silverhill. May all your ice creams be Chocolate Therapy!
And now, a rap song:
Now please, stop, you have to listen,
happy birthdays in order for my friend Kristin,
Spells her name with an i, and not an e,
and please avoid Comic Sans most definitely,
With mad Adobe props she styles the world,
jiggle magic hair and it comes unfurled.
I get a feverous phage,
when she steps on the stage,
cause homegirl bustin’ moves like a theater mage--
Hey Kristin,
My eyes be mistin’,
Cause Adam you be kissin’,
on the dance floor like a piston,
playin’ games like whist and,
hey look, everybody, it’s Katrin and Tristan!
 
A birthday huzzah to both young lovers! |
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| Landoo Crazy illin' |
[Sep. 8th, 2008|11:05 am] |
yoicksandaway turns 36 today. In his honor, a poem.
Today is the birthday of my friend Andrew.
His smile is infectious and his attitude "can-do."
He's artistic and it's a joy to see what his hand drew,
He's cooler than Billy Dee, who once played Landoo,
He's more philosophical than Pooh Bear and Roo,
36 is divisible by 3, 4, 6, 9, 12, 18 and 2.
If he and Kubla Kahn put on roller-skates, I'm sure they'd go to Xan(a)du,
And if you leave him out overnight, waiting in line for a new movie and/or major comic book release, in the morning he'll have...
...fan dew.
Hugs,
d-master b.
p.s.
I'm totally rapping this (and Wednesday's sequel) at the party. Stand back. |
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| Everybody Wants Somebody to Like, Everybody Needs Somebody to Like |
[Jul. 17th, 2008|04:29 pm] |
When you are four, a lack of love = annihilation.
When you are four, if your parents stop loving you, you might die. In a less structured society, this is a literal danger. This position teaches us at a very young age that we need to be loved.
Not being loved is dangerous and scary!
For a grownup, however, a lack of love would take a much longer time to be lethal. (A few days at least.)
It’s a pretty profound position: I don’t need to be loved all the time.
I used to try to be “all giving, all the time,” so that I would be loved all the time. Whether at work or with friends, I tried to be the ultimate employee or the ultimate friend. At school, I tried to be the ultimate student. In romantic relationships, I tried to be the ultimate caring boyfriend.
Not only did this lead to an abandonment of myself (bad!), it also didn’t work. No matter how good and loving you are, sometimes some people are not going to love you.
People will dislike me. I don’t do what they want. They don’t agree with my decisions. I don't meet their need. I has a flavor. Whatever the reason, people will dislike me. I could be Jesus and they would still dislike me. (In fact, quite a few people had some kind of problems with him, if I recall correctly, something something crucified him something something...)
If a friend or someone at work doesn’t like me, there may be nothing I can do about it. I can not, and should not, attempt to meet everyone's needs. I have to accept the anger and continue being the best person I know how to be. I can be hurt for a while, but ultimately I need to practice being independent of their assessment.
I don’t need to be loved all the time. I am not four.
I'm five.
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