The Hug, A Poem by Tess Gallagher

A woman is reading a poem on the street
and another woman stops to listen. We stop too,
with our arms around each other. The poem
is being read and listened out here
in the open. Behind us
no one is entering our leaving the houses.

Suddenly a hug comes over me and I'm
giving it to you, like a variable star shooting light
off to make itself comfortable, then
subsiding. I finish but keep holding
you. A man walks up to us and we know he hasn't

come out of nowhere, but if he could, he
would have. He looks homeless because of how
he needs. "Can I have one of those?" he asks you,
and I feel you nod. I'm surprised,
surprised you don't tell him how
it is-- that I'm yours, only
yours, etc., exclusive as a nose to
its face. Love-- that is wheat we're talking about, love
that nabs you with "for me
only" and holds on.

So I walk over to him and put my
arms around him and try to
hug him like I mean it. He's got an overcoat on
so thick I can't feel
him past it. I'm starting the hug
and thinking, "How big a hung is this supposed to be?
How long shall I hold this hug?' Already
we could be eternal, his arms falling over my
shoulders, my hands not
meeting behind his back, he is so big!

I put my head into his chest and snuggle
in. I lean into him. I lean my blood and my wishes
into him. He stands for it. This is his
and he's starting to give it back so well I know he's
getting it. This hug. So truly, so tenderly
we stop having arms and I don't know if
my lover has walked away or what, or
if the woman is still reading the poem, or the houses--
what about them?-- the houses.

Clearly a little permission is a dangerous thing.
But when you hug someone you want it
to be a masterpiece of connection, the way the button
on his coat will leave the imprint of
a planet in my cheek
when I walk away. When I try to find some place
to go back to

[Poem copied from here.]

[Pic found here.] Click pic for video.

Questions, A Poem by Mary Oliver

Is the soul solid, like iron?
Or is it tender and breakable, like
the wings of a moth in the beak of an owl?
Who has it, and who doesn't?
I keep looking around me.
The face of the moose is as sad
as the face of Jesus.
The swan opens her white wings slowly.
In the fall, the black bear carries leaves into the darkness.
One question leads to another.
Does it have a shape? Like an iceberg?
Like the eye of a hummingbird?
Does it have one lung, like the snake and the scallop?
Why should I have it, and not the anteater
who loves her children?
Why should I have it, and not the camel?
Come to think of it, what about maple trees?
What about the blue iris?
What about all the little stones, sitting alone in the moonlight?
What about roses, and lemons, and their shining leaves?
What about the grass?

[Poem copied from here.]
[Image found here.]

The Devil in the White City (Book Review)

My boy Eli recommended this book. An entertaining read. The story of the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago is fascinating, particularly given the wherewithal of the times and the scope of the project. How many pounds of this and that, Annie Oakley, the first Ferris Wheel, Walt Disney's father Elias, Frank Lloyd Wright, incandescent bulbs, alternating current and shredded wheat oh my. The story of serial killer H.H. Holmes adds just the right touch of dark to this tale in Chicago. He easily killed at least 27 people around that time, probably way more. What a creepy guy. It amazes me how many folks can be seduced by guys like that. Yikes.

Great read. Recommend: Yes for entertainment and relaxing purposes. Indeed.

Adios Augusto!

Bobby and I started the last day of August with a hike. Them smiles come from the deep....

I'm sitting on a few things here I might need to get out. Better safe than sorry.

First of all, since my last report I have received (and did not forward) 30 junk eMails from so called friends. Again, the rest of you are welcome. I've reset the counter.

I've started a poetry class at Phoenix College. So, expect some silly poems coming to this blog soon.

Everything changed as soon as I learned her business was pleasure.

Concern without action, what's the point?

I've decided to lie about everything.

He just finished his 54th year of wanting just about everything to be different.

As long as more is better, there's never enough.

There's a reason they're called followers.

She was so fine, the second thought I had was "please tell me you're not already spoken for".

I'm not interested in a deal.

I know I'm getting it right, when you're perfect.

Jeanne, mostly what I like, is what you did to me.

If it's not leading to love, never mind.

There's no doubt, it's my turn.

Don't you get it? This is as special as it gets.

It's all a daydream, all of it that's not cherished anyway.

Selfish often masquerades as unhappy. It's a pity to be so petty.

I've broken all the little rules, time for something else.

And now, from some real people:

I just may be the lunatic you're looking for. Billy Joel (Almost a quote).

I'd trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday. Janice Joplin.

I'd sooner face the penalties of killing a man than a hawk. Robinson Jeffers. Wow!

We must do what we conceive to be right and not bother our heads or burden our souls with whether we'll be successful. Because if we don't do the right thing, we'll do the wrong thing and we'll be part of the disease and not part of the cure. E.F. Schumacher

Better keep yourself clean and bright; you are the window through which you must see the world. George Bernard Shaw.

That's all I got for this time. my best, your bobJuan.

The Shadow of the Wind (Book Review)

Oh my. I am thinking about changing my name to Carlos again. A page turner. I was joking with Rick (my friend who turned me onto the book) that it should come with one of those rubber finger-page-turning thingys. You can find lots of folks singing the praises of this book and its author, including his greatness Stephen King. You don't need me to tell you how wonderful it is.

I will say every chance I get that a brave author with an imagination and compassion for life once again inspires. Rick says the Angels Game is a great read too, I'll let you know what I think. What a wonderful mind and heart this guy has. Love, mystery, and story telling on 11. The plot/subplot and mixing mystery fired me up. Hated for it to end.

Recommendation: Must Read.

The 158-Pound Marriage, A Book Review

Finished this short one (154 pages) last nite. Saucy, sinful, painful. Ahh, the menage a quatre, couple swapping is hot. Then it's not. Too bad we imagine things could or even should stay hot. And when they cool we get all stupid about it, or wonder what went wrong. There's no such thing as hot without cold. There's no such thing as ON without OFF. Irving whips um up here as usual, you can see um naked. And he got me. The two quotes in the front of the book were more telling after the read.

There were four of us then, not merely two, and in our quaternion the vintage sap flowed and bled and boiled as it may never again. John Hawkes, The Blood Oranges.

It was a most amazing business, and I think that it would have been better in the eyes of God if they had all attempted to gouge out each other's eyes with carving knives. But they were "good people". Ford Madox Ford, The Good Soldier.

Irving is my writing professor. Book recommended. Review done.

Adios Julio

I bet somewhere there's a statistic that says this July was one of, maybe the, hottest on record in Phoenix. It's been a scorcher. Made up for that sweet June we had for sure, back when we thought maybe global warming was a scam again. Anyway it was a great month around here. For one, baby Aaryn came into all of our lives. Just in time.

Here's some of what I'm sitting on.

First, you're welcome. In the month of July I received and did not forward 58 eMails, some of which promised me fantastic sums of wealth depending upon how many people I forwarded them to believe me. I just reset my counter for August.

Looks like we're not going to be happy until we reach the tipping point.

If the entire world turned off their TV right now

I predict World Peace by Christmas.

After I became amused, everything started falling in place.

In the evolution of humans, why did we stop having fur?

As long as there's a them

we're all in trouble.

Sometimes I wish I could control/z my way back a few days.

You have to realize there are others

Before you can appreciate the one without another

name your limitations.

If you're not gonna do "this"

what are you gonna do?

Why do you care where you're going, when you don't even know where you are?

And now, from some real people.

He who knows how to shave the razor,

will know how to erase the eraser. Henri Michaux.

Everything leads us to believe that there exists a certain point of intelligence at which life and death, the real and the imaginary, the past and the future... cease to be perceived as opposites. Andre Breton.

Until next time.. your bobJuan.