cummings

I love e e cummings. This poem is one of his lesser known ones, but I love it for its beautiful imagery.

if a cheerfulest Elephantangelchild

if a cheerfulest Elephantangelchild should sit
(holding a red candle over his head
by a finger of trunk, and singing out of a red

book) on a proud round cloud in a white high night

where his heartlike ears have flown adorable him
self tail and all (and his tail's red christmas bow)
--and if, when we meet again, little he (having flown
even higher) is sunning his penguinsoul in the glow

of a joy which wasn't and isn't and won't be words

while possibly not (at a guess) quite half way down
to the earth are leapandswooping tinily birds
whose magical gaiety makes your beautiful name---

i feel that (false and true are merely to know)
Love only has ever been, is, and will ever be, So

-e.e. cummings

An Ill Wind

A selection from my brother over at Heron House. I think he's got some poems of his own going this month.

"An Ill Wind" by Louis Jenkins, from Sea Smoke © Holy Cow! Press, 2004. Reprinted with permission.

An Ill Wind


Today there's a cold northeast wind blowing, piling up ice all
along the water's edge. The Point is deserted, no one for five
miles down the beach. Just the way I like it. The sand is frozen
mostly, so the walking is easy as I pick my way through the
wrack and drift. Today I don't even leave footprints. Wind,
sand, sun and water. A simplicity that defies comprehension.
The barest essentials for the imagination's work. This shore has
been pretty much the same for ten thousand years. Countless
others have been here before me, musing and pondering, as
they walked down the beach and disappeared forever. So here's
what I'm thinking: wouldn't it be great if one of them dropped
a big roll of hundred dollar bills and I found it?

April

April is National Poetry Month. I love poetry. I remember Mom writing poems on big sheets of butcher paper and hanging them around the house. I'm hoping to post a new poem every day this month.




An orange ruled the world. By Benjamin Rosenbaum

It was an unexpected thing, the temporary abdication of Heavenly Providence, entrusting the whole matter to a simple orange.

The orange, in a grove in Florida, humbly accepted the honor. The other oranges, the birds, and the men in their tractors wept with joy; the tractors' motors rumbled hymns of praise.

Airplane pilots passing over would circle the grove and tell their passengers, "Below us is the grove where the orange who rules the world grows on a simple branch." And the passengers would be silent with awe.

The governor of Florida declared every day a holiday. On summer afternoons the Dalai Lama would come to the grove and sit with the orange, and talk about life.





When the time came for the orange to be picked, none of the migrant workers would do it: they went on strike. The foremen wept. The other oranges swore they would turn sour. But the orange who ruled the world said, "No, my friends; it is time."

Finally a man from Chicago, with a heart as windy and cold as Lake Michigan in wintertime, was brought in. He put down his briefcase, climbed up on a ladder, and picked the orange. The birds were silent and the clouds had gone away. The orange thanked the man from Chicago.

They say that when the orange went through the national produce processing and distribution system, certain machines turned to gold, truck drivers had epiphanies, aging rural store managers called their estranged lesbian daughters on Wall Street and all was forgiven.

I bought the orange who ruled the world for 39 cents at Safeway three days ago, and for three days he sat in my fruit basket and was my teacher. Today, he told me, "it is time," and I ate him.

Now we are on our own again.

Why the Public is Ignorant

My local paper has a about a quarter of a million subscribers and has received 7 Pulizer Prizes in its 100+ year history. It is the major newspaper for at least 4 surrounding states from Alaska to Northern California. Yesterday's front page? On a day when major bombings occured in Iraq, when national and international election campaigns are ongoing, when the economy is tumbling into crisis? The front page, above the fold headline was about a 17 year old girl who was trying to break the World Record for the Mile Crawl. That's right, she was pictured wrapped in bubble wrap and duct tape, and crawling around a track.



How can we expect the citizenry to be informed about issues when the paper that they read over breakfast refuses to provide important stories? Yes, there is good information out there. Blogs and online newspapers are recognizing the need for quality journalism and are filling the gaps left by the "old media". Unfortunately, finding reliable sources of news and staying updated takes time and effort and besides, why should the newspapers be so willing to turn over their duties as public servants? Our nation was based on the idea that the people have the ability to understand important issues but that understanding requires a media that is willing to provide the facts.

Change or Die

Why is it so hard to change? The Buddha tells us that change is inevitable, that everything is always changing. We are always changing whether we like it or not, so why do we resist change for the better? Why do we allow entropy (laziness) to change us instead of changing ourselves?

Dr. Raphael Levey, founder of the Global Medical Forum, an annual summit of leaders in the health care, told a recent audience, "A relatively small percentage of the population consumes the vast majority of the health-care budget for diseases that are very well known and by and large behavioral." That is, they're sick because of how they choose to live their lives, not because of environmental or genetic factors beyond their control. Levey didn't bother to name them, but you don't need an MD to guess what he was talking about: too much smoking, drinking, eating, and stress, and not enough exercise

Dr. Edward Miller, the dean of the medical school and CEO of the hospital at Johns Hopkins University was more explicit He turned the discussion to patients whose heart disease is so severe that they undergo bypass surgery, a traumatic and expensive procedure that can cost more than $100,000 if complications arise. About 600,000 people have bypasses every year in the United States, and 1.3 million heart patients have angioplasties -- all at a total cost of around $30 billion. The procedures temporarily relieve chest pains but rarely prevent heart attacks or prolong lives. Around half of the time, the bypass grafts clog up in a few years; the angioplasties, in a few months. The causes of this so-called restenosis are complex. It's sometimes a reaction to the trauma of the surgery itself. But many patients could avoid the return of pain and the need to repeat the surgery -- not to mention arrest the course of their disease before it kills them -- by switching to healthier lifestyles. Yet very few do. "If you look at people after coronary-artery bypass grafting two years later, 90% of them have not changed their lifestyle," Miller said. "And that's been studied over and over and over again. And so we're missing some link in there. Even though they know they have a very bad disease and they know they should change their lifestyle, for whatever reason, they can't."



For the last two weeks, I've been shadowing a nutrition counselor. She sees patients who have been referred by their doc and most of her patients are overweight often with diabetes, heart disease and other related conditions. She is giving them advice for change that is cheap, simple, and has no negative side effects. She wants her patients to cut down on sugary treats and high fat foods; eat more fruits and vegetables; and get a little exercise. I'm shocked by the number of patients who refuse to use skim milk in their 20 oz Mocha Latte, or who can't give up their third dessert in the evening. These same patients are the ones who will insist that their doctor give them every last test, medication or procedure up until their last breath, but they won't put in a little effort to loose 10 pounds.

On a similar note, I was listening to a podcaster who I really enjoy (but don't always agree with) and he was discussing an article in his local paper. This article was written by a grad student who was studying climate change. This student's theory was that if we didn't cut our carbon emmisions by 96% in the next 20 years, climate change would become inevitable. Ninety six percent! The podcaster claimed that we couldn't change by that much if we were threatened with a nuclear bomb. He's probably right, but why not? Could you cut your emmisions by 96% if it was a choice between change or die? Could I?

Juneau

I'm in the state capital for a month, doing a rotation at the local emergency room. It's good to be back in Southeast Alaska, with the rain and the eagles, the evergreens and the water. I am living in a converted garage. It's warm and cozy, but has only intermittent internet. ER is interesting and busy, days go by quickly. I think I'll leave this rotation with some insight on the use/misuse of the ER. For instance- first thing yesterday we saw a very sick baby having seizures with a high fever. This was followed by a string of people looking for Vicodin for their backs, and a couple schizophrenic patients waiting for admission to the mental health unit. The docs I work with are very knowledgeable and patient, but I'll be interested to hear their thoughts on working in the department and access to care for people.

One more week in Anchorage. It's bitter cold (-8F) and beautiful with crisp, clear days and just enough snow to make everything bright in the early afternoon sun. I am fortunate to work close enough to where I live that I can walk my commute. It's about 40 minutes each way (longer if there's lots of fresh snow). I walk through a park, around a lake. I see beaver and moose on my way in at times. A long walk twice a day is a great way to center my mind, to relax and focus.

My Nan died yesterday after 5 days in a coma. She, like many others of her generation, was a fighter. She fought to keep her home and family running. When the last of six children were finally out of the house and settled, she battled with Granddad's Alzheimer's disease. After he passed on, she has struggled for the last decade with cancer. Up until the end, she did not know how to let go, how to stop fighting. I hope that she finally knew peace and that, if there is an afterlife, she is with my mom, and her family and loved ones. I will always remember her in the kitchen (how trite), flour up to her elbows, kneading bread; or lying on the couch, covered with dogs and cats, reading a book; her love of the winter and learning to ski at a time in life when most women were settling down. A strong woman and a good one, I hope that I take after her.




Before She Died

by Karen Chase

When I look at the sky now, I look at it for you.
As if with enough attention, I could take it in for you.

With all the leaves gone almost from
the trees, I did not walk briskly through the field.

Late today with my dog Wool, I lay down in the upper field,
he panting and aged, me looking at the blue. Leaning

on him, I wondered how finite these lustered days seem
to you, A stand of hemlock across the lake catches

my eye. It will take a long time to know how it is
for you. Like a dog's lifetime -- long -- multiplied by sevens.