Dancing the Dance

(No, that's not a self-portrait. It's a creation by our grandson, Thomas)


Talk about quiet. 


There weren’t even any e-mails this week. Oh, there were the usual offerings of SPAM ... things which I thought I had blocked long ago ... a couple of newsletters from writing and art groups (but, through an involved, convoluted way of viewing them ... welcome though they are ... newsletters don’t count as e-mail) ... but none of those “Hey! How ya doin’?” kind of things which keep S&G going.


But I understand. People are busy. Even Professor Squigglee and I are busy, too. He’s busy grading papers, I presume ... and I’m busy watching the leaves turn ... and they always do at this time of year. Somebody has to watch them, to be sure they’re doing it right. 


I’ve stepped into the breach, and I can report that the leaves seem to be turning properly ... so far.


Meanwhile, I’m going to give all of you a break this week. None of my long-winded diatribes. No homework assignments from Professor Squigglee ... and no pop quizzes in the offing.


But if you do find a spare minute in the coming week, I wouldn’t mind hearing from you ... and you ... and you. Helps to keep S&G ... and me ... going, sorta. Thanks.


-S&G-


Also, meanwhile, if you’d like to see what’s up with my other ... DAILY blog ... here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit there, too.


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM ... I think, is fitting for a week in which nothing happened at Brimm Manor ... and, seemingly, other places, too. In hopes that it tells its own story, here it is:  


DANCING THE DANCE


Tomorrow I shall write all those things
I intended to write today,
but didn't.


With a single bound, two at most,
I shall leave my bed.


I shall fly into the backlogged stacks
of things to rewrite, and I shall be there
two hours early to begin, as one must, 
if one flies these days.


I shall walk 
the narrow path
(so deserted)
to distasteful,
routine tasks.


I shall run the vacuum briskly over these
scattered promises that litter my trail.


I shall sleep, fitfully, but dutifully,
simply because I must, though I may toss 
and turn most of the afternoon.


And when night comes, I shall turn 
the lights down low, put on some music, 
and dance the dance of good intentions,
knowing I've done my best to bound, 
to fly, to walk, to run, to sleep; ah, 
yes, perhaps, even to write.


(originally published in Kaleidoscope)


-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


rbrimm@peoplepc.com




... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


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


-S&G-
© 2009  

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-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


 rbrimm@peoplepc.com




... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


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


-S&G-
© 2009  

Defying Gravity

Uh-OH ... look out ... this was one of those weeks when nothing happened ... so-o-o-o ... you know what that means: I’ll probably end up talking endlessly ... about nothing, of course.


-S&G-


Oh, I did run into an old writing buddy ... at watercolor class. He not only remembered my name (and I remembered his, too, by the way) ... but he also remembered one of my poems that I had shared, way back when we were attending the same writing group.


The poem? “Clutter, Glorious Clutter.” I wasn’t quite sure how to take that. Maybe he thought of me as being a really messy person. Maybe he just liked the poem, I finally decided. Yep. I liked that conclusion.


And what did I do? I went right home and dug out “Clutter ... “ then, not wanting all that effort to go to waste, I posted it on my other (daily) blog, “Chosen Words,” along with one of my photos.


I know, some of you are regular readers of “Chosen Words” ... maybe not daily, but regularly visiting the site.


For those who may not have discovered it ... or may have forgotten how to get there ... here’s a link:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com


Let me know if you arrived there safely ... and your reaction to the posting. 


-S&G-


TODAY’S QUOTE: “God made man before woman so as to give him time to think of an answer for her first question.” - courtesy of TIL (Illinois)


-S&G-


REMEMBER THESE? - courtesy of WALT (Ohio):


Candy cigarettes ... wax Coke-shaped bottles with colored sugar water inside ... soda machines that dispensed glass bottles ... coffee shops with table-side jukeboxes ... Blackjack, Clove and Teaberrry chewing gums ... home milk delivery in glass bottles with cardboard stoppers.


-S&G-

YOU KNOW you’re a Floridian if ... flip-flops are everyday wear. Shoes are for business meetings and church ... but you HAVE worn flip-flops to church before (more than once!) - courtesy of HELEN (Florida)
  
-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM - Oh, wouldn't it be great to be able to rise above the everyday problems that continue to plague us?


I thought about that. I thought about literally rising above them, sailing off as carefree as a bird ... or more like a big red balloon which had just gained its freedom. Of course, I came back to earth, to the reality that things would still bug me, but I felt better able to cope.




How's that for a bit of therapy ... at least in the realm of things which, in the long view of things, aren't all that important? Maybe if I practice on the little things I will be better able to rise above the larger, more serious hurdles which lie ahead. It's a thought, anyway. 


Now the poem:


DEFYING GRAVITY


With practice, I fully expect
someday to defy the gravity
of situations that bug me now.


A promise broken beyond repair,
an umbrella gone inside-out,
the spilled beans of some urgent
secret, the hole in my sock,
a lost mitten, broken shoelace,
a bookmark gone astray,
my coffee cup gone stone cold,
things I’ve forgotten,
crawling out, feeling old.


I see myself like a giant
red balloon, rising easily
above them all. And don’t you
dare grab the string.
(originally published in Potpourri)


-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


rbrimm@peoplepc.com


... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


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


-S&G-
© 2009  

My Sunday Stroll

A few days ago I was driving down a four-lane street ... minding my own business ... and the speed limit, I might add ... when I noticed a young couple with an infant in a stroller up ahead.


They were in a mid-block, marked crosswalk, halfway across the street, headed for the side I was driving along.


I stopped short of the crosswalk, turned on my four-way flashers ... and sat there ... while about half a dozen drivers pulled around me and went whizzing past.


Finally, another driver stopped beside me, so we had both of our lanes blocked, for the moment. The trio ventured out ... she waved a thank-you to us ... they got safely across ... and went on.


I’m not here to condemn those other drivers ... far be it from me to cast the first stone in the driving department ... I don’t know who those other drivers were, or what vital, urgent errands they were on.


I couldn’t help thinking, though, of how loudly their actions speak of a general disrespect for the law ... and for others ... as I witness it on the streets and highways these days ... and drivers’ disregard for the safety of themselves ... and others.


Will we never learn?


-S&G-


TODAY’S QUOTE: “I’m always very careful, so this is quite unlikely to happen ... but just suppose I were to crawl out of bed some morning ... and get my flip-flops on the wrong feet. Would they then be considered flop-flips?” - Professor Squigglee


-S&G-


AND ANOTHER ... Phyllis’ late father was a collector ... of sayings, among other things ... and here’s one now:


Now is the time to plan your life,
If you would make your mark;
You know it wasn’t raining
When Noah built the ark.


-S&G-


LOOKING BACK ... all the way to the Monday, April 7, 2003 issue of S&G ... “I was strolling through a mall the other day, minding my own business, when I suddenly saw this huge sign ... RETRO SHOES ... in one of the windows. Well! I can imagine what those are. Once you’ve got ‘em on, you stand up (if you can) ... and start walking ... BACKWARDS.”


-S&G-


LOOKING BACK (AGAIN) ... this time to an e-mail late last year from LOREE (Kansas) ... in which she suggested an installment about our first real “paying” jobs ... where actual money was involved. 


Loree said she was about nine or ten ... and hers went like this:


Ah, yes ... memories of my first real paying job! I was a kid in New York State, and Freckles and I got a REAL job ... in more ways than one! First we rode our bicycle (that’s right ... ONE bicycle for the two of us to share) ... and we rode about four or five miles to a truck farm that raised produce near Lake Ontario. We called it a “muck farm,” since the soil was so rich ... and if damp, about like concrete!


Anyway, our job was to get down on our knees and traverse the length of the rows, pulling out WEEDS! ... sun boiling down ... wiping the sweat from our foreheads with grimy, gritty hands. And at the end of the day ... the long trek back home. But, hey, we were paid FIFTY CENTS a day for our efforts!


-S&G-


REMEMBER WHEN ... Laundry detergent had free glasses, dishes or towels hidden inside the box? - courtesy of WALT (Ohio)


-S&G-


YOU KNOW ... you’re a Floridian if ... Your winter coat is made of denim. - courtesy of HELEN (Florida)


-S&G-


ANOTHER QUOTE ... “Aspire to inspire before you expire.” - courtesy of TIL (Illinois)


-S&G-  


TODAY’S POEM ... First of all, let me say this: I’ve got nothing against dogs. Some of my best friends, especially during my growing up years, were pooches ... and we got along splendidly, roaming the hills, sharing adventures, pausing occasionally to take in the view.


Why is it, then, that nowadays dogs ... not all, but a lot of them ... seem to have this compulsion to express their disdain for me? 


It’s almost as though I owe them money ... or look like someone who might steal a bone from them. Not me, buddy ... not me.


Still, there’s that bit of animosity they seem to harbor, as detailed in today’s poem. (All I ask is that you read it silently ... I don’t want any more canines getting the wrong idea about me): 


MY SUNDAY STROLL


How brave the dogs
crashing into the fence,
bark-bark-barking
at me on the other side.


Are they afraid I'll jump
the barrier (at my age)
and attack them?
Does the fence make them


brave, as brave as I am?
Only inches from
flashing, pointed teeth,
agitated, syncopated paws,


those raging eyes, rising
hackles, I stroll serenely
past as superior as a cat,
knowing that the fence


will corner abruptly and they
must stop, game over,
while I, clearly the winner,
hear only the cheering
crowd as I quit the field.


(originally published in Moose Bound Press)


-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


rbrimm@peoplepc.com




... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


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


-S&G-
© 2009