Super Fat Tuesday

photo property of Mary Durlin

Since you've probably nothing better to do next Tuesday, February 5th at 7:00 PM (Mardi Gras, Super Tuesday and other trivial events can wait), why not milk the cows a little early, get your wierd old uncle to button his fly, and head over to the Windhover Center for the Arts at 51 Sheboygan Street in Fond du Lac, where I will have the distinct pleasure of joining the exceptional Mary Durlin as we read a bit of poetry? We'll start promptly at 7:00, read for 15 or 20 minutes, take a little break, rinse, lather, and repeat; after which there will be an open mike session. I think it'll be a good ride, Mary and I will be looking at some of the same topics from vantage points separated by most of two generations. Fun stuff, sad stuff, no master's degree required.

If you always swore you'd never go to a poetry reading - and I know who you are and where you live - you might want to reconsider.

- Ralph Murre

Translation, Traduccion, Ubersetzung

Because I have failed to learn even the most rudimentary bits of another language, and because I have friends and visitors from many nations, I have now installed Alta Vista's "Babel Fish" on this site. I'm sure many subtleties will be lost in translation, but it may come close. To try it, (and I don't know how the hell you've gotten this far if your English isn't at least as good as mine) scroll down the right column 'til you see their logo, and click on the flag of your choice. And wait. And eventually, Voila!, all this gibberish appears in another language. Ain't life great?

- Ralph Murre

They Told Us Never

In that long drift beside the county highway

and that cresting wave the length of the lake

and that look you have when I don't know

where you are, but I want to be there, too,

and in those trees at the top of the dune

they told us never to climb,

I know there's something hidden and waiting,

I know there's something I can't see yet,

the arc of it curving just beyond

the reach of my fingers,

like the stars on one of those nights

when the sky comes very close.

- Ralph Murre

Again with the Haiku?

this low flying flock

the color of dried beech leaves

hear their flapping wings

- arem

MLK, MKG, HDT

Today, let's take a little break from the colossal popularity contest of our primary elections to honor and reflect upon the lives and continuing influence of world leaders who were not elected to public office, but led by example. Martin Luther King, of course, who stirred the souls of so many, freely cited the example of Gandhi, who cited the influence of the writings of Thoreau.

While it is clear that the impact of these three men will continue to be felt for a very long time, and probably longer than that of many who have been elected to office, it is also becoming increasingly clear that the struggles they faced are not over. Increasingly clear that the only fitting way to show respect is not to set aside a "day" of honor, but to continue those struggles in every moment, in every thought, in every act of our lives. Too much to ask? Maybe, maybe.

Maybe they put themselves on the line imagining that injustice would end, but I doubt that any of the three were so naive. More likely, I think, that they knew they were asking us to be more than we think we are, to do more than we think we can.

- Ralph Murre

Dancing With The Tsars

Did you ever wonder about polka dancers? I mean, they're always happy and laughing, yet they tried to conquer the world - while tango dancers, who never crack a smile, failed to recapture even the Islas Malvinas. Look out for happy people - that is today's lesson, kids. That both of those dancing factions lost to the British, who appear not to dance at all, is a subject which will be taken up at another time.

- RM

When the Music is Right

Some day, she'll tango in red shoes,

she'll drink Malbec in low light,

swoon to heat stirred by a single fan.

And though tango dancers rarely smile,

perhaps she'll smile at me

in that way that lovers can,

dancing in red shoes

when the music is right.

- Ralph Murre

Weather Report

new snow on branches

for the dawn of this moment

a silence of crows

- arem

Luck

I guess no one-armed bandit

will hand it to me,

no red and black roulette

or last minute track-side bet

or ticket in the lottery

is likely to pay off, no play-off pool

is coming through, so far as I can see.

But I hear the owls at night,

there's sun and rain and starlight,

there's fruit and grain.

I think somewhere

they're playing our song.

And down at the harbor,

they're saying it won't be long

'til my ship comes in.

They're saying it won't be long.

- Ralph Murre

Out There

photo by Nancy Vaughn

Look! Out there -

just at the horizon -

the ship that carries everything

I hope for

and everything I dread.

That slow ship

that was just a dot

in the mist

seems to head this way

with the wind at her back.

- Ralph Murre

Sail

Sail on, O Ship of Time!

I'll make another passage

if you'll have me.

- Ralph Murre

In The Freeze

even in the freeze

of this wintering woodlot

a dark stream flowing

- arem

Somewhere

December in Colonia del Sacramento, Uraguay

somewhere a flower blooms

while somewhere a bulb holds life frozen

somewhere there is dancing

while somewhere a bomb ends the music

somewhere there is laughter

and our little planet spins night into day

and wobbles so slightly

from the weight of tears

and the lightness of joy

- Ralph Murre

joyeux noel

The best to all of you - peace, love, a silent night.

Don't loose sight of it climbing to the cuckoo's nest.

- Ralph Murre

Dusting Off Jesus

"If there is no God,

Not everything is permitted to man,

He is still his brother's keeper

And he is not permitted to sadden his brother,

By saying that there is no God."

- Czeslaw Milosz

Readers of this blog include members of several of the world's major faiths and many others of no faith at all. I am not a member of any religious group, though I was brought up in the Christian tradition. I now consider most religion to be myth, but I say that in no way to belittle the faith of anyone - I consider most mythology to be full of very real lessons and values which have had great import to people down through the ages, and continue to be important today.

At a time of year when many of us are observing holidays, Holy Days, and perhaps idly wishing peace to our fellow humans, let me reflect for a minute on the so-called followers of Christ. First off, how can they possibly advocate going to war, no matter what the justification? What purported teaching of Christ allows revenge? And when, exactly, did God become the property of the right-wing?

"Blessed are the peacemakers", Jesus is supposed to have said. "Whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also."... "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good for them that hate you."... "forgive men their trespasses"..."Be wise as serpents," he is supposed to have said,"and harmless as doves." Is anybody picking up on a theme here?

I, frankly, don't know if the Christian religion has any more merit than the Santa Claus myth, but Virginia, if you choose to believe in Christ, hadn't you better listen to his words?

Peace be with you, all of you - believers, unbelievers, seekers and suckers - if you think there's a God, I think there are a bunch of 'em.

- Ralph Murre

aa

Patience

so darkly perched

to await the tide's offering

unloved cormorant

- arem

Three Things

New friends in Buenos Aires taught me a proverb which I hadn't heard before -

En la vida, debes hocer tres cosas:

- Tener un hijo

- Plantar un arbol

- Escribir un libro

In your life, you must do three things:

- Raise a child

- Plant a tree

- Write a book

I like it, probably because it's the only "To Do" list which I've ever completed. Well, I suppose it's true that I only helped a bit in raising children and the book is a very slim volume of poetry, but there were lots of trees.

-RM

Back from Buenos Aires

The Artist Claudio Barragan,

photo by Nancy Vaughn

Morning In A Strange City

A mouth full of how-do-you-say?
and ears full of birdsong and builders,
eyes full of children and treetops,
red tile and red wines and green vines,
whitewash and washed clothes
and everywhere sun.

And shadow.

Evita’s air and fresh breeze and café doble
and diesel and dogshit and life
and death and jasmine and jazz.

And cats.

And the disappeared who do not disappear.
Oh, do not disappear. Oh, never disappear.

And hope. There is fresh breeze and hope.
And there are smiles.
Even the old woman smiles
as she walks by Cementario de la Recoleta.
Even the mask-maker smiles
as he makes his unsmiling masks.

- Ralph Murre

gotta fly, man

gotta see some other place,

continent, hemisphere.

spin things backward.

coupla weeks maybe.

or 'til new year's. or ground hog's.

back by mayday for sure.

- r.

From Down Here

Thanks to the mothers and the motherless. Thanks to the Ho Chunk and the Crow. Thanks to the poultry, thanks to the yam, thanks to the farmer and the fisher. Thanks to the one who does. Thanks to the well-wisher.

Thanks to the fathers and the prodigal sons. Thanks to the bird and the bee. Thanks to mechanics, thanks to cows. Thanks to the comic and the rain-cloud and the sun and the humble and the proud.

Thanks to the painters and the crimson paint; thanks to the poets and the words. Thanks for the paper. Thanks for the pen. Thanks for erasers and time. Thanks for rivers flowing. Thanks for strength to climb.

- Ralph Murre