Ahead and Behind

Another quiet week here at Brimm Manor ... with the exception of a doctor’s appointment ... a few odd chores ... and a bit of walking cautiously among the teetering stacks of things in need of attention.


-S&G-


IT WAS SO quiet that you could’ve heard a tick tock ... if ticks really tock ... and if there are any ticks still around after all the cool nights we’ve had here in Ohio recently.


-S&G-


COOL ... I remember when that meant the relative absence of heat. Then it took on another meaning, particularly in relation to other individuals or (musical) groups. In my day ... and I’m not saying precisely what century THAT was ... we referred to a particular vocalist ... or band ... as HOT, if they were really with it ... meaning they were the absolute best we had ever heard. At some point THE word became COOL. 


-S&G-


How the language changes.


And I guess it’s in for even more change. I’ve heard, from usually reliable sources, that handwriting (we called it penmanship ... how ANCIENT can one be?) is no longer being taught. Oh, I guess they’re teaching kids to write their names. But the rest of it takes place at the keyboard.


Or on the cell phone.


We’re communicating more and more ... every waking second, it seems ... but ... judging from what I overhear at the grocery store ... or the parking lot ... and near those signs which say: PLEASE TURN OFF YOUR CELL PHONE WHILE IN HERE ... the more I hear, the more convinced I am that we’re communicating ... that is, sharing important, meaningful information ... less and less.


Someday, I guess, our language ... whatever language THAT is going to be ... will simply be gibberish.


-S&G-


TODAY’S QUOTE: “It may appear ... sometimes ... quite unexpectedly ... that I’m unsteady on my feet - like when I suddenly rise from a sitting position, for example. But that’s not the case at all. It’s simply that the room has tilted, and I’m adjusting to it.” - Professor Squigglee


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM: I suppose it was there all the time ... an ability, on occasion, to say something that sort of had the sound of poetry ... something that, while alien, perhaps, to the formal, prescribed structure and style of real poetry, had an element that conjured up poetic images for the reader ... or listener.


I began writing these things for myself. They usually came to me during my daily walks. When I got back home, I would sit for a few minutes at the kitchen table, scribbling away.


Then I began sharing these scribblings with Phyllis. She liked them ... at least said she did ... and encouraged me to keep writing.


I did keep writing, and writing, and writing ... and, though today's poem is a bit of an exaggeration ... poetic license, you know ... it does sometimes seem that I've gotten ahead on my writing ... behind on everything else.


Meanwhile, the poem:

AHEAD AND BEHIND


For many years
I wouldn’t venture
into this strange
realm of poetry,
but then, like
a water-loving dog
finding a pond,
I plunged in,
can’t be coaxed
back out, and I’m
paddling around,
getting slowly
ahead on poetry,
way behind on
everything else.
© 2001
(originally published in Capper's)


-S&G-


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 rbrimm@peoplepc.com




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-S&G-


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-
© 2009