It is one ocean with many names
And into the ocean, sooner or later, flows
Every lake, lagoon, aquifer, mudpuddle, and pond,
Every snowflake, icicle, glacier, flood, bay, and teardrop.
---o0o---
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Poem: Convergence
By Jack Brummet
It is one ocean with many names
And into the ocean, sooner or later, flows
Every lake, lagoon, aquifer, mudpuddle, and pond,
Every snowflake, icicle, glacier, flood, bay, and teardrop.
---o0o---
It is one ocean with many names
And into the ocean, sooner or later, flows
Every lake, lagoon, aquifer, mudpuddle, and pond,
Every snowflake, icicle, glacier, flood, bay, and teardrop.
---o0o---
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Poem: Joshua Brought Down Jericho
By Jack Brummet
Jericho was locked down tighter than a submarine.
It made Helms Deep and Fort Knox look porous.
Joshua studied the walls, scoping a way inside,
When a man with whirling gaslight eyes appeared
And grew ten feet tall and five feet wide.
It was The Lamplighter himself. "Take the shoes
From your feet on my holy ground,
And follow the ark, with seven priests with seven trumpets.”
Seven priests tooting seven horns led a parade
Around and around and around Jericho
Like Sambo marched the tigers around the tree,
Or the way the earth spins in the dark around the sun.
They marched in silence six long days.
On the seventh day they lit out at dawn
Behind the seven priests and seven trumpets
And marched around the city seven times.
After the seventh orbit, the priests blew a cadenza.
And the roar swelled each passing minute.
Every man, woman, boy, and girl,
―Young, old, red, yellow, black, and white―
And every critter, bird, and bug
Was buried in the rubble and dust
As the walls came tumbling down. ----o0o----
It made Helms Deep and Fort Knox look porous.
Joshua studied the walls, scoping a way inside,
When a man with whirling gaslight eyes appeared
And grew ten feet tall and five feet wide.
It was The Lamplighter himself. "Take the shoes
From your feet on my holy ground,
And follow the ark, with seven priests with seven trumpets.”
Seven priests tooting seven horns led a parade
Around and around and around Jericho
Like Sambo marched the tigers around the tree,
Or the way the earth spins in the dark around the sun.
They marched in silence six long days.
On the seventh day they lit out at dawn
Behind the seven priests and seven trumpets
And marched around the city seven times.
After the seventh orbit, the priests blew a cadenza.
And the roar swelled each passing minute.
Every man, woman, boy, and girl,
―Young, old, red, yellow, black, and white―
And every critter, bird, and bug
Was buried in the rubble and dust
As the walls came tumbling down. ----o0o----
Poem: Escape
By Jack Brummet
The rest of us
leave in dinghies, bikes, and cars,
Racing down
highways, expressways,
Streets and boulevards.
Streets and boulevards.
A continent of smoking skull orchard
---o0o---
Monday, August 24, 2015
The Crisis Clinic
By Jack Brummet
I graduated from The Crisis Clinic's three week training this weekend [1]. This was harder than any class I took in college, and it feels great. I work my first shift this week.
I graduated from The Crisis Clinic's three week training this weekend [1]. This was harder than any class I took in college, and it feels great. I work my first shift this week.
[1] "Crisis Clinic offers telephone-based crisis intervention and information and referrals to community services for youth and adults in Seattle-King County, WA. We offer emotional support to those in crisis or considering suicide through our 24-Hour Crisis Line. For youth we offer Teen Link, a teen answered help line. King County 2-1-1 offers information and referrals to community services based on our database of more than 5,000 services. The Washington Recovery Help Line is a state wide service offering emotional support and linkage to substance abuse, problem gambling and mental health services to anyone in Washington State. Our Washington Warm Line is a peer-answered help line for people living with mental illness."
---o0o---
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Saturday, August 22, 2015
Friday, August 21, 2015
A Profile in Courage: President Jimmy Carter
By Jack Brummet, Presidents Ed.
Watching President Jimmy Carter's heartbreakingly beautiful press conference today, all I could think was please please please let us all show the same acceptance, courage, joy, and hope when we come to the end of the line. What a wonderful man.
Watching President Jimmy Carter's heartbreakingly beautiful press conference today, all I could think was please please please let us all show the same acceptance, courage, joy, and hope when we come to the end of the line. What a wonderful man.
---o0o---
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Poem: Prayer In Istanbul
By Jack Brummet
Art by Jack Brummet - The Blue Mosque
Art by Jack Brummet - The Blue Mosque
1.
On a dusty cobblestone street
I hear three muezzins
In three directions
Call people to prayer
At three mosques,
With a slight delay
Between the calls.
Three chanters in three different rooms
Sing the same song
In phase-shifted rounds
Through nine silver speakers
Mounted on three
Ivory-white minarets
Capped in gleaming cerulean blue.
2.
At the washing stations,
Water splashes from brass spigots
Into pale grey limestone basins.
The faithful wash,
Bag their sandals,
And for the fourth time since dawn,
Walk onto the lush carpet
Of the cool quiet mosque
Tiled in words and symbols.
3.
They kneel, face the wall
And pray one more time.
I don’t know what they pray for,
But when I see their faces
And watch their devotions,
I know it’s something good.
4.
It’s so still and calm
In the mosque,
You could hear a fly expire.
---o0o---
On a dusty cobblestone street
I hear three muezzins
In three directions
Call people to prayer
At three mosques,
With a slight delay
Between the calls.
Three chanters in three different rooms
Sing the same song
In phase-shifted rounds
Through nine silver speakers
Mounted on three
Ivory-white minarets
Capped in gleaming cerulean blue.
2.
At the washing stations,
Water splashes from brass spigots
Into pale grey limestone basins.
The faithful wash,
Bag their sandals,
And for the fourth time since dawn,
Walk onto the lush carpet
Of the cool quiet mosque
Tiled in words and symbols.
3.
They kneel, face the wall
And pray one more time.
I don’t know what they pray for,
But when I see their faces
And watch their devotions,
I know it’s something good.
4.
It’s so still and calm
In the mosque,
You could hear a fly expire.
---o0o---
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Drawing: Faces #1213 -― wooden box
By Jack Brummet
click images to enlarge or right click to save
---o0o---
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