Reading poetry in web pages

This was from Monday, July 30, 2007

When someone
emails me a poem
or a thought
or a cry for help or prayer,
the machinery takes the human emotion
and adds things.

Above the thought,
a banner teases me with an I-pod.
Answer the question,
shoot the rabbit,
throw coconuts at the monkey.

Below the thought,
in spite of the fact
that tears splashed
on the keyboard
as the writer contemplated
life alone,
and things looked bleak,
Yahoo added
'Ahhh...imagining that irresistible "new car" smell?'

In my world
poems sent by a beloved daughter
all end with
'show quoted text'
'reply forward'
Your beloved is not available to chat.

Still, it's all good
if you
can ignore
the static.

Road to Emmaus - King of Athens

I gave blood today. I was driving to the building where I had to get my OU ID card and I detoured into the parking lot of a Catholic church when I saw the blood drive sign. I was hoping that it wouldn't take too long, and it didn't, and I felt good about my noble spirit. (Ha) As I was laying there filling the pint bag, I was looking at a picture. It wasn't very large and it was across the room. It was three men walking down a road covered by green leafy trees. Two men seemed to have stopped in their tracks and were looking at the third man. I recognized what it was intended to be, partly because I was in a church. It was a painting of the very beginning of "The Road to Emmaus", and I was remembering a blog that Rachel wrote about a painting of the very end of that story. I was alone, but for the kind Red Cross people and the others laying in their own chaises. Why was I facing that direction? Why did I go the long way around and drive by there? Was this picture placed for me to see for the sheer joy it brought me? Or was that just a benefit? I would have been content just for the peaceful time of thinking about nothing, but the road to Emmaus burned in my heart at that moment. As I was chatting with the older couple who were helping with the after care, I mentioned, through a mouthful of carrots or delicious sloppy joe, that I really enjoyed being able to look at the road to Emmaus while I was giving. I repeated it twice, but they just looked at me, without understanding. I didn't explain, as the woman had given me that look my maternal grandmother used to give me when she was pretending she had heard the funny thing I said, and I didn't want to embarass her. The red cross nurse said, "I caught that". The name of the church was Christ the King Catholic church. The red cross abbreviates that as "Christ King in Athens".

Hello out there in television land. Myspace.

Interesting things happen every day. Just in case anybody cares and wishes to catch up with me, this is my I'm not mad at all at anyone in the entire world, and life is reasonably good. I'm going to be a grandfather in December. I didn't get a job I applied for. I'm in college taking a couple of classes. I've lost some friends and gained some others. I don't date at all. I just hang out with people. I'll probably be celebate the rest of my life, but that is OK. My TV only gets WOSU. 3 WOSU digital channels and one analog rebroadcast from Portsmouth. I'm thinking of moving to the Columbus area just for the TV signal. I came within one day of buying a house in New Boston. I believe that God stopped me from buying it. God has stopped me from doing stupid things before, but some things, he let me do. It has been a couple of months since I've been in a theater production and I miss it, but I'm probably done with that for awhile. I'm disturbed by the book I'm reading, but only believe part of it. My hat is old, my teeth are gold, my shoe is off, my foot is cold, and now my story is all told. I have the last Lemony Snicket book. I never got a chance to send it off after reading it.

"Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)"

To my knowledge, "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)" was the only 45 record that my Dad ever bought. He heard it on the car radio and drove someplace and bought it for us. And you know he WAS in the Navy during the Korean War. Ah, the mystery of it all. The first record that my Mom owned was Gene Autry singing "Don't Fence Me In".