Sunday, February 24, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Two Chairs, Part II
The old chairs waited
two days by the curb
for a new home.
Either the garbage men
took them for reincarnation
or someone recognized
their plight & gave them
a new home.
See: http://mrkimmosleywrite.blogspot.com/2008/02/attachment.html
for part one.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Buddha Mirror
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Cut off the flow of time
Monday, February 18, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
To Comprehend a Nectar
This is based on a poem by Emily Dickinson.
Understanding is sometimes what we do instead of becoming intimate.
Kim
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Disattachment
I had two chairs for
many years. They could
no longer be part
of our lives. I took
them 2 3 thrift stores.
They would not take them
so I put them out in the
street hoping someone
would pick them up.
This was
the only chair
that I could use
to make art.
Reinforcement
P.S. One of the
chairs was put out
for the garbage truck
in 1969. I rescued it
and gave it a good life.
I don't
remember about chair
number two...except
I believe I took
it apart and painted
it because it was rusted.
Friday, February 15, 2008
The White Bread Kid
Mary had it all.
She was a white bread
kid with not a worry
until her stomach started
to get big when she was 12.
William Blake described such events in his inspirational illustrations and poems in the Songs of Innocence.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
The Non-Compassionate Man
This piece is dedicated to Kon Ichikawa,
who died yesterday at 92.
He did a wonderful film in 1956
called The Burmese Harp.
Instead of staying around 2
bury the dead, he went home
to his wife and son.
P.S. The film presents an
ethical challenge to the
adage, "love afar is spite
at home."
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Sad Bread
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Bread and Butter
Monday, February 11, 2008
No News is Good News
When they are off and away,
we pray for good news,
but more than that,
we pray for no news,
knowing when silence prevails,
they are all right.
The phone rings and we jump,
relieved that it is not bad news,
but rather relieved to hear someone
who doesn't want to sell anything,
who just wants to do a survey.
We want to be there,
at their beck and call
but know deep in our hearts
that they need to explore another world
now that they have conquered ours.
Who said that life was easy,
devoid of anticipation and suffering?
Who said that life was permanent,
and that all would play out
according to Hoyle?
Not me, said the frog.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Yesterday and Today's Art
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Shooting Range
The Buddhist said he could be calm
until he drove past the shooting range
that would cause him to shudder
for two or three miles.
He talked of the Dali Lama
as the only living leader for peace.
He said that the DL refused
to be a government leader
because he refused to take a position
on issues.
Then another bullet was shot
and his attention wained
for a few minutes
until we passed the winery.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Dogs, Part III
We parted with our dogs yesterday.
I drove them to the farm of a rescue
group in Kimmswick. It was not easy,
especially since the little one
cried most of the way. The other one
enjoyed the ride, but then freaked
out when she got there.
I won't get into the subsequent
phone calls from the rescue group
after I left them, but we were
consoled by the fact that we
were better human parents than
dog parents. I will say that our
dogs were not as social as the
other dogs.
On the way I saw a horrific
car accident in the making
on the opposite side of the
highway. It must have been
just a fraction of a second
that I saw it, but I keep
rerunning the tape over and
over. I searched on the news
for more information but could
not find it.
Here's Zoe:
They are looking for a good home for her.
I have a feeling that there will
be a Dogs, Part IV. Until then,
we'll be dogless except in our minds.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Voting on a Rainy Day
I went to vote today
after my friend called
because she was so worried
that her candidate wouldn't win.
I didn't especially like any
of the prospective presidents,
so it wasn't that easy,
to say the least.
A large woman,
working for the polls,
stood over me
looking like she'd crack my knuckles
if I didn't vote for the right person.
I told her that she wasn't supposed
to be looking at me voting.
She slightly turned her head away
and I proceeded to make my mark.
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