Poem for Saturday, DS9 and Halloween

Halloween
By Robert Burns

Upon that night, when fairies light
On Cassilis Downans dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean the route is ta'en,
Beneath the moon's pale beams;
There, up the cove, to stray and rove,
Among the rocks and streams
To sport that night.

Among the bonny winding banks,
Where Doon rins, wimplin' clear,
Where Bruce ance ruled the martial ranks,
And shook his Carrick spear,
Some merry, friendly, country-folks,
Together did convene,
To burn their nits, and pou their stocks,
And haud their Halloween
Fu' blithe that night.

The lasses feat, and cleanly neat,
Mair braw than when they're fine;
Their faces blithe, fu' sweetly kythe,
Hearts leal, and warm, and kin';
The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs,
Weel knotted on their garten,
Some unco blate, and some wi' gabs,
Gar lasses' hearts gang startin'
Whiles fast at night.

Then, first and foremost, through the kail,
Their stocks maun a' be sought ance;
They steek their een, and graip and wale,
For muckle anes and straught anes.
Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift,
And wander'd through the bow-kail,
And pou't, for want o' better shift,
A runt was like a sow-tail,
Sae bow't that night.

Then, staught or crooked, yird or nane,
They roar and cry a' throu'ther;
The very wee things, todlin', rin,
Wi' stocks out owre their shouther;
And gif the custoc's sweet or sour.
Wi' joctelegs they taste them;
Syne cozily, aboon the door,
Wi cannie care, they've placed them
To lie that night.

The lasses staw frae 'mang them a'
To pou their stalks of corn:
But Rab slips out, and jinks about,
Behint the muckle thorn:
He grippet Nelly hard and fast;
Loud skirl'd a' the lasses;
But her tap-pickle maist was lost,
When kitlin' in the fause-house
Wi' him that night.

The auld guidwife's well-hoordit nits,
Are round and round divided,
And monie lads' and lasses' fates
Are there that night decided:
Some kindle coothie, side by side,
And burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa, wi' saucy pride,
And jump out-owre the chimlie
Fu' high that night.

Jean slips in twa wi' tentie ee;
Wha 'twas she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, and this is me,
She says in to hersel:
He bleezed owre her, and she owre him,
As they wad never mair part;
Till, fuff! he started up the lum,
And Jean had e'en a sair heart
To see't that night.

Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt,
Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie;
And Mallie, nae doubt, took the drunt,
To be compared to Willie;
Mall's nit lap out wi' pridefu' fling,
And her ain fit it brunt it;
While Willie lap, and swore by jing,
'Twas just the way he wanted
To be that night.

Nell had the fause-house in her min',
She pits hersel and Rob in;
In loving bleeze they sweetly join,
Till white in ase they're sobbin';
Nell's heart was dancin' at the view,
She whisper'd Rob to leuk for't:
Rob, stowlins, prie'd her bonny mou',
Fu' cozie in the neuk for't,
Unseen that night.

But Merran sat behint their backs,
Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;
She lea'es them gashin' at their cracks,
And slips out by hersel:
She through the yard the nearest taks,
And to the kiln goes then,
And darklins graipit for the bauks,
And in the blue-clue throws then,
Right fear't that night.

And aye she win't, and aye she swat,
I wat she made nae jaukin',
Till something held within the pat,
Guid Lord! but she was quakin'!
But whether 'was the deil himsel,
Or whether 'twas a bauk-en',
Or whether it was Andrew Bell,
She didna wait on talkin'
To spier that night.

Wee Jennie to her grannie says,
"Will ye go wi' me, grannie?
I'll eat the apple at the glass
I gat frae Uncle Johnnie:"
She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt,
In wrath she was sae vap'rin',
She notice't na, an aizle brunt
Her braw new worset apron
Out through that night.

"Ye little skelpie-limmer's face!
I daur you try sic sportin',
As seek the foul thief ony place,
For him to spae your fortune.
Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!
Great cause ye hae to fear it;
For mony a ane has gotten a fright,
And lived and died deleeret
On sic a night.

"Ae hairst afore the Sherramoor, —
I mind't as weel's yestreen,
I was a gilpey then, I'm sure
I wasna past fifteen;
The simmer had been cauld and wat,
And stuff was unco green;
And aye a rantin' kirn we gat,
And just on Halloween
It fell that night.

"Our stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen,
A clever sturdy fallow:
His son gat Eppie Sim wi' wean,
That lived in Achmacalla:
He gat hemp-seed, I mind it weel,
And he made unco light o't;
But mony a day was by himsel,
He was sae sairly frighted
That very night."

Then up gat fechtin' Jamie Fleck,
And he swore by his conscience,
That he could saw hemp-seed a peck;
For it was a' but nonsense.
The auld guidman raught down the pock,
And out a hanfu' gied him;
Syne bade him slip frae 'mang the folk,
Some time when nae ane see'd him,
And try't that night.

He marches through amang the stacks,
Though he was something sturtin;
The graip he for a harrow taks.
And haurls it at his curpin;
And every now and then he says,
"Hemp-seed, I saw thee,
And her that is to be my lass,
Come after me, and draw thee
As fast this night."

He whistled up Lord Lennox' march
To keep his courage cheery;
Although his hair began to arch,
He was say fley'd and eerie:
Till presently he hears a squeak,
And then a grane and gruntle;
He by his shouther gae a keek,
And tumbled wi' a wintle
Out-owre that night.

He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu' desperation!
And young and auld came runnin' out
To hear the sad narration;
He swore 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw,
Or crouchie Merran Humphie,
Till, stop! she trotted through them
And wha was it but grumphie
Asteer that night!

Meg fain wad to the barn hae gaen,
To win three wechts o' naething;
But for to meet the deil her lane,
She pat but little faith in:
She gies the herd a pickle nits,
And two red-cheekit apples,
To watch, while for the barn she sets,
In hopes to see Tam Kipples
That very nicht.

She turns the key wi cannie thraw,
And owre the threshold ventures;
But first on Sawnie gies a ca'
Syne bauldly in she enters:
A ratton rattled up the wa',
And she cried, Lord, preserve her!
And ran through midden-hole and a',
And pray'd wi' zeal and fervour,
Fu' fast that night;

They hoy't out Will wi' sair advice;
They hecht him some fine braw ane;
It chanced the stack he faddom'd thrice
Was timmer-propt for thrawin';
He taks a swirlie, auld moss-oak,
For some black grousome carlin;
And loot a winze, and drew a stroke,
Till skin in blypes cam haurlin'
Aff's nieves that night.

A wanton widow Leezie was,
As canty as a kittlin;
But, och! that night amang the shaws,
She got a fearfu' settlin'!
She through the whins, and by the cairn,
And owre the hill gaed scrievin,
Whare three lairds' lands met at a burn
To dip her left sark-sleeve in,
Was bent that night.

Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,
As through the glen it wimpl't;
Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays;
Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't;
Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays,
Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle;
Whyles cookit underneath the braes,
Below the spreading hazel,
Unseen that night.

Among the brackens, on the brae,
Between her and the moon,
The deil, or else an outler quey,
Gat up and gae a croon:
Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool!
Near lav'rock-height she jumpit;
but mist a fit, and in the pool
Out-owre the lugs she plumpit,
Wi' a plunge that night.

In order, on the clean hearth-stane,
The luggies three are ranged,
And every time great care is ta'en',
To see them duly changed:
Auld Uncle John, wha wedlock joys
Sin' Mar's year did desire,
Because he gat the toom dish thrice,
He heaved them on the fire
In wrath that night.

Wi' merry sangs, and friendly cracks,
I wat they didna weary;
And unco tales, and funny jokes,
Their sports were cheap and cheery;
Till butter'd so'ns, wi' fragrant lunt,
Set a' their gabs a-steerin';
Syne, wi' a social glass o' strunt,
They parted aff careerin'
Fu' blythe that night.

--------

I had a very nice Halloween, not one of the more exciting ones I've celebrated, but that was fine. Spent the morning writing a review of Deep Space Nine's "Treachery, Faith and the Great River" (which I almost forgot to watch, being completely confused about what day of the week it was -- last week this time I was having dinner with my cousins in California). Started folding laundry, but I kept getting distracted by people posting their kids' school parades and costumes and stuff, so it's still not done, and now I'm too busy catching up on RDJ and U2 on Graham Norton.

In between, we went to the neighborhood Halloween party and parade in the early evening while it was still light -- decorations, music, pizza, lots and lots of kids chasing each other (many princesses trouncing Hulks, which warmed my heart). We had seven or eight Elsas of a range of ages and ethnic backgrounds, plus quite a few Mutant Ninja Turtles and at least three Captain Americas. (I went in modified Renfaire clothes with my purple spider peplum.) Trick or treating seemed to be in packs tonight, and we had visitors pretty steadily from 6:30 till close to 9.

Poem for Friday, Rough Magic, Locust Grove

Our Never
By Benjamin S. Grossberg

Is the never of childhood, deeper
than the never of adolescence,
which has a whining, stammering
quality, which is a stamped foot
followed by huffing steps, and wholly
unlike the never of adulthood,
has none of the bright spider
cracks of reason multiplying
along its roof, threading its dark
dome with fine lines of light.
Didn't you think, with such a
cavernous never in mind,
you might have consulted me?
Even a 3 AM phone call would've
been justified. On the line
in the dark, you could have shared
a little childhood mythology,
told me about some night when
you didn't sleep, couldn't hear
your parents, and morning seemed
further away than "far away,"
seemed consigned to a distinct
and inimitable never.  You could've
evoked for me the particular textures
of that never, explained that
you were mulling them again now,
assaying them for a contemporary
application. Sure, I'd have been
startled. What would you expect—
hearing how your childhood bed
sank into a hollow in the earth,
or how nighttime had, snickering,
closed you in its trench coat, and
how the residue of the experience,
the resin it left, you were brewing
into something for us. I'd have
wanted to see you right away
and would have been myself
forced to wait till next morning.
So, I, too, would've spent
an evening in an underground
hollow, or bundled up inside
night's coat, wading through
one never on the off chance
that I could forestall another.

--------

"I wrote this poem at the end of a painful relationship, a sustained experiment in withholding (on both sides)," Grossman told Poets.org. "That experience saturates the poem, evident not only in its belated call for communication, but also in the manner of that call."

I took Thursday off from everything except goofing off with Cheryl! Though we had a near-crisis when we got home from picking up lunch at Lebanese Taverna and discovered three separate screw-ups (grape leaves never even included in the order, plain hummus missing, hummus with veggies replaced by hummus with meat that neither of us eats), then were told when I called that they had no record of the transaction even though I had an order number and credit card receipt, took dropping the name of the marketing director to get the manager to stop jerking me around. Meanwhile Cheryl and I were watching Rough Magic, in which Bridget Fonda is fun, Russell Crowe is awesome, and the storyline is total crack, and Flushed Away, which Cheryl had never seen and Hugh Jackman as a rat who sings and parodies Disney is really a must-see.

Paul came home just as the second movie was ending, after which we all went to take a walk in Cabin John Park at Locust Grove to see the changing leaves whose peak we mostly missed while we were in Los Angeles. On the way home, we stopped at the produce stand near my house to get a pumpkin, whose season we also mostly missed -- they only had the huge $16-$20 ones left (the food store yesterday only had the tiny $8-$10 ones left, and we had no time to get to an orchard before tomorrow). Then we all watched the Carrey-Oldman-Firth A Christmas Carol (wrong season, I know, but it has ghosts) before Cheryl had to go. After a quick dinner, Paul and I watched Gracepoint and rejoiced over the return of Elementary, though I must admit I liked the villain in the premiere better than the new regular.

Poem for Thursday and California Beach

Self-Portrait as Letter Addressed to Self
By J. Michael Martinez

X.X.,

Someday, across glacier, a green horse will ride toward you; despite steam rising from heavy breath, you'll touch its snout.

When you paired a person's gait to signature, what lilt signed your step? What tautology, what tense was this body's hypothesis?

Do you remember your mother's Strawberry Fruit-Salad Recipe? 2 round Angel Cakes (2 pounds or 4 halves), 16 oz of vanilla pudding, 4 bananas, 2 containers of 8 oz strawberries, 1 big container of whipped cream. Layer and eat.

Your hands shaking, you wrote, "Christ is sentiment."

A cup cracked through with sky. A saucer planed into the shapes of numbers. Every written thing stripped bare, the more supple formulation of given law.

I told you distance to a thing is the purchase of its reality. Why are people like that for us? The more we love the more physical space our love inhabits & the world's lightness' & darkness' assume the order of human tongue.

Last night we tore & tossed memories into ponds. Geese swam across, pecked the waters. I splashed at them &, after, my hands shook. You stood beside me in a red dress. I wanted to drown you this pretty.

xoxo,
X.X.

--------

It has been an exhausting day of chores, or maybe I was already exhausted so the chores seemed more onerous than usual. The laundry is not done, but at least everything but the camera cables are unpacked. Paul worked from home, so we could go to the library and food store and liquor store together. Because I have not had enough stress this week, another of my family members was having a medical procedure that ended up being more complicated than originally thought so I got to worry about that too.

We had a coupon for a free pizza from the new Blaze Pizza in the mall, so we tried that for the first time and it immediately became our new favorite local pizza place. Then we watched the Sleepy Hollow episode we missed, one of the show's best (Spider-Man jokes! Daniel Boone jokes! Halo jokes!) and tonight's Nashville before catching the end of the World Series. David and his kids were rooting for the Giants since Molly was from San Francisco and had the same initials as Madison Bumgarner, so I am happy for them.

Greetings from Home

We spent all day Tuesday getting home from California, which required waking up at 5:30 a.m. so we could grab some breakfast before picking up Paul's parents from their hotel. By complete coincidence, we were on the same flight home, sitting two rows apart -- we hadn't even known which airline they were flying when we got our tickets, let alone what time. Of course we spent a ridiculous amount of time on the freeway getting to the airport, but once we returned our rental and found our gate, we got to relax and track down some snacks.

For all the stress of this week, we had a great experience with United -- everything ran smoothly and on time. Once again we ate picnic food on the plane, the hummus and cheese boxes, and since we couldn't figure out where the flash drive was, we watched The King's Speech, the one movie that is on both my computers and my tablet. We drove Paul's parents to our house, from which friends of theirs picked them up to drive to Hanover, and I postponed unpacking to watch Agents of SHIELD and Forever because I needed some mindless pleasure.

Greetings from Los Angeles

I am preparing to leave California with the same wild mood swings that have characterized this entire week -- I want to stay, I want to make sure David and his kids are okay, I want to see the relatives I didn't manage to catch up with, I want a little more time in this stunning landscape to be able to enjoy it without finding it so sad. And at the same time I want to go home and hug my cats and talk to my kids and sleep in my own bed and get my own life in order.

We laid Molly to rest this morning after a brief service that was more formal than any other burial I've attended -- with my grandparents and people of their generation, it was less religious, more focused on the person to whom we were saying goodbye, though maybe that would have been harder for the children today. She is in a beautiful place full of trees and birds, facing the mountains. Her devout parents seemed the least shattered by it. I didn't know whether to be awed or jealous.

The kids seemed almost urgently to need toys and video games and normalcy afterward. Most of the people at the interment came back to the house for lunch, and afterward, while David's younger brother was leaving for the airport, we took him and the two boys to take care of a bunch of chores, including a trip to Walmart to look for Halloween costumes that turned into a protracted hunt for specific Legos. I feel like reality will only hit them in weeks or months when it's had time to sink in.

We had a quiet dinner during which Paul and his father and brother half-watched the Washington-Dallas game while the rest of us did some research online about Kindle issues -- we got them a couple of games to put on the Kindle Fire but they don't work exactly the same way as on the iPhone, which was nearly a source of strife till we straightened it out. Eventually we had to say goodbye to them. By utter coincidence, my in-laws are on the same flight home as we are.

Greetings from Agoura Hills

It has been another day of the wildest ups and downs I could imagine. We didn't sleep very well, so we were up very early, and since the family had agreed to meet for lunch around 11, after breakfast Paul and I drove through the Santa Monica Mountains to the beach. I hadn't realized how close we were, and I am told we drove right past where several celebrities live, but the only thing I wanted was to put my feet in the Pacific Ocean for a few minutes. Because it's so close to the new moon, the tides are quite high, and the waves at Zuma Beach were beautiful -- big white caps with rainbows arcing in their spray. Since it was Sunday and I'm told less-than-ideal surfing conditions, it wasn't at all crowded; we were able to park easily at the free county beach instead of the state park at Point Dume, and at one point one of the trucks parked parallel to the beach started blasting Kansas's "Dust in the Wind," possibly the most appropriate incidental song ever to my state of mind at a particular moment. The temperature was in the 70s, the sky painfully blue.









We drove back through the mountains, stopping at a couple of lookout points to see the canyons and high rocks, to Agoura Hills where we met up with David's family, the younger members of whom I pleased greatly by giving them my Kindle Fire, which I pretty much never use since I have a Paperwhite and an ASUS transformer book. We drove into the Valley to the vegetarian market and restaurant Follow Your Heart, one of Molly's favorite restaurants (the last place I ever saw her), where we had a big family brunch courtesy Molly's parents and Paul and Dave's parents. Then we came back to Dave's house so the kids could get ready to go out with friends while Paul and I took first Jon and Maddy to the food store, then Dave to the Apple Store to get a new cable for his computer. In the evening while they watched the World Series, we met Uncle Mickey and Lesley, who live in Castaic, at the mall in Thousand Oaks, where they took us to a lovely, relaxed dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. Again, there were many happy moments where I forgot, then remembered.

Greetings from the San Fernando Valley

Everything feels surreal right now -- the sky looks too blue to be real, the weather has been beyond beautiful (low 70s daytime, low 60s evening), we have eaten really well, we have gotten to see several of my favorite people in the world, and it's still almost unbearably sad to be here. We spent most of the day with Paul's family at David's house with a couple of runs out to the food store to get supplies and to get Starbucks. We had vegan pizza delivered from Fresh Brothers that was the best pizza I've had since Vince & Dominics closed. I got to spend a bit of time shopping with Dave's younger daughter, the only time we've ever been together without other adults around, she is lovely and witty, and I got to see many of the relatives and close friends of Dave's who came by the house to help with various chores and reminiscing and sharing photos.

I keep catching myself thinking wow, I should send Molly a Facebook message about things her kids showed me or things I learned from her dad's relatives that I never knew before. It's so frustrating to know that we will never have all these conversations about our family, so sad that she will never see the things her kids are doing. In the evening we drove to Northridge to have dinner with the Foleys in Northridge. I told Lynda that her family room is one of my happiest places in the world -- our family stayed with hers several times when we were in L.A. -- so after going out for Thai food, also excellent, we hung out at her house and talked about our kids and their assorted schools and jobs and entertainment we've shared past and present while her cats and parrot weighed us, measured us, and found us wanting (except when they wanted their bellies or ears rubbed, which was often). 

Greetings from Thousand Oaks

It has been a really complicated, exhausting day of wild ups and downs -- ups because I got to spend time with family whom I rarely get to see and to meet some amazing people and at moments forget exactly why I was here, downs because a few moments later I would remember, and nothing is ever going to make it seem less devastating or less than unfair to everyone. Molly was so young, she had so many things she wanted to do, she leaves a family who adored her and four kids trying so hard to make sense of her loss. In some ways the memorial was the easiest part -- I don't think I've ever been to a Catholic service that wasn't a wedding, the music was beautiful, most of my in-laws were participating, Molly's older daughter delivered a eulogy that didn't leave a dry eye in the church.

The reception had some lovely aspects too, since I got to see people I hadn't seen since Dave and Molly's wedding and meet many of their more recent friends, one of whom played guitar and others of whom provided the best vegan food I've had since I ate in their restaurant. Again, I would forget for a few seconds why we were all there and think how nice it was to be among all those amazing people, and then remember. Always at funerals I think how much the person not there would have loved it, but that feeling was so acute, with her sons alternating between distracting themselves and being inconsolable. We rented a mini-van, so we drove the family home, then I had a couple of nice hours having dinner at the home of my cousin Felicia and Jason and their boys along with Aunt Carol and Jeffrey.

Greetings from California

We're in Thousand Oaks near Agoura Hills after a long day of travel -- not a bad day, the flight wasn't crowded and went smoothly, we ate the vegetarian cheese and hummus boxes which were pretty good (like having a picnic on a plane), watched Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy since I had it on my laptop, got our luggage almost immediately after we got off the plane...it's just really sad to be out here for the reason we are, and to see so many people I am really happy to see only so upset about the circumstances.

We went straight from the airport to Paul's brother David's house with a quick stop for fruit drinks for them and for us. Their parents had already arrived and his youngest brother Jon arrived within the hour. My nephews were there already; my nieces had gone out to shop for food for the reception after the memorial service and arrived a bit later. I really didn't take photos, but here are a couple of the view out the plane window approaching L.A. and the view driving into the San Fernando Valley:

Poem for Thursday and Three Lakes Park

May the God of Surprises Delight You
By Elizabeth Eiland Figueroa

Inspired by Ignatius Loyola's love of "Magis" - the greater, the excellent, the best

May the God of Surprises delight you, inviting you to accept gifts not yet imagined.
May the God of Transformation call you, opening you to continual renewal.
May the God of Justice confront you, daring you to see the world through God’s eyes.
May the God of Abundance affirm you, nudging you towards deeper trust.
May the God of Embrace hold you, encircling you in the hearth of God’s home.
May the God of Hopefulness bless you, encouraging you with the fruits of faith.
May the God of Welcoming invite you, drawing you nearer to the fullness of God’s expression in you.
May God Who is Present be with you, awakening you to God in all things, all people, and all moments.

--------

Swiped from Emily Friedman on Facebook.

I had a couple of fun hours on Wednesday to bolster me for the rest of the week. We picked up Adam in College Park, took him to Chipotle for lunch, then took him to the orthopedist for the last check-up for his no-longer-broken arm, at which he was given the go-ahead to play volleyball (not that not having the go-ahead stopped him from doing so the past few weeks). Before taking him back, we stopped at the bank so he could see about getting a credit card. It was not a long visit but it was nice to see him.

We spent the rest of the day getting ready to go to my sister-in-law's funeral on the west coast, which involved some shopping, getting haircuts, coordinating with my house-and-catsitter, parents, and neighbors (who are still dealing with the fallen tree), folding laundry, and packing. I expect to be scarce online for the next few days. Here are some photos from the nature center at Three Lakes Park in Richmond from the weekend before last, including the fish outside seen from the underwater viewing area.

Poem for Wednesday and Pride on the Potomac

The Bride Tree Can't Be Read
By Brenda Hillman

The bride tree puts down its roots
below the phyla. It is there
when we die & when we are born,
middle & upper branches reaching
the planet heart by the billions
during a revolution we don't see.

Quarks & leptons are cooling
on their infant stems, spinning the spinning
brain of matter, fled to electrical dark
water, species with names the tree
can hold in the shale shade brought
by the ambulance of art;

no one but you knows what occurred
in the dress you wore in the dream
of atonement, the displaced tree in
the dream you wore, a suffering endurable
only once, edges that sought release
from envy to a more endurable loss,

a form to be walked past, that has
outworn the shame of time,
its colors sprung through description
above a blaze of rhizomes spreading
in an arable mat that mostly
isn't simple but is calm & free--

--------

I am useless as a blogger this week, we spent today waiting for information that we finally got in the evening about funeral arrangements, now we are working on plane tickets and places to stay and making sure our house-and-catsitter is available. Fall leaves were lovely, we had a thunderstorm. Despite being an AL fan, I am glad the Giants won, because I read an article that said if the Giants win it will help the Democrats in the election, and it's way more important to me that the Republicans lose than that the Giants do.

We also watched Agents of SHIELD, which I guess was okay -- not as good as May Kicks Ass last week, but it's possible if I had seen that one tonight that I'd have been too distracted to appreciate it anyway. Forever was pretty mediocre despite a good guest cast, first time I've felt that way (comic books often make fans murderers! oh wait, and bad mothers often make their sons murderers!). Some nice calm photos from last July of Pride of Baltimore II visiting Piscataway Park, with Mount Vernon in the distance: