Monday, April 27, 2009
I believe
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
A Poem for the Soul
Vacation by Rita Dove I love the hour before takeoff,that stretch of no time, no home but the gray vinyl seats linked like unfolding paper dolls. Soon we shall be summoned to the gate,soon enough there’ll be the clumsy procedure of row numbers and perforated stubs—but for now I can look at these ragtag nuclear familieswith their cooing and bickering or the heeled bachelorette trying to ignore a baby’s wailand the baby’s exhausted mother waiting to be called up early while the athlete,one monstrous hand asleep on his duffel bag, listens,perched like a seal trained for the plunge. Even the lone executivewho has wandered this far into summer with his lasered itinerary, briefcaseknocking his knees—even he has worked for the pleasure of bearing no more than a scrap of himself into this hall. He’ll dine out, she’ll sleep late, they’ll let the sun burn them happy all morning —a little hope, a little whimsy before the loudspeaker blurts and we leap up to become Flight 828, now boarding at Gate 17.
Both witty and truthful, this poem is one for the aware. I love it because when I am at an airport, I too think of the people; where they are going and what they act like always runs through my mind. It's a lot of fun, almost like playing a game with myself. Ms. Dove captures the essence of the human mind during a usually mundane situation. Vacation reminds us of the waiting before we can go and have fun and reminds us that everyone has somewhere to go and something to accomplish.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
"It is difficult to get the news from poetry, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there." - William Carlos Williams
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
What is success?
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Describe this!
I have reached the point of salvation. The short climb up occasionally hurts my legs but I soon collapse on my back. It gives me an inviting hug and cushions the dramatic buckling of my body. As I lie here, the warm pink sea of sheets covers my body and invite me to let my head and mind go. My body unwinds. Slowly, each joint relaxes into the soft pink and orange striped cloud. The cloud's children support my aching neck as I drift off into a land of dreams. I am in a place of comfort and security. The one place I can call my own. Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Was Blind, but Now, I See

Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Barack the Vote

...well we haven't heard those words since November 4th. It's finally time for that monumental inauguration day. Do I think it's over-hyped? Yes. But in a good way. How often do you get a young, non-southern, African-American man as your next president? This inauguration speech will only happen once. I can tell people when I'm older that I witnessed one of the most important days in the history of the United States of America. This over-hype is definitely a good thing--actually if there wasn't this much hype I think I would be a bit concerned. Here's to Bush's last 2 hours in office and change in the great United States.
