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thompi2
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Name: Thommy
Birthday: 6/8/1985
Gender: Male
Interests: being pensive, wearing flannel shirts, having messy dreds, taking pictures of myself, wearing charlie brown pj pants
Expertise: getting stressed out about stuff, freaking out, snuggling with my super hot girlfriend
Occupation: Student
Industry: Nonprofit
Message: message me
Member Since:
12/5/2004
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| i give you what is unbounded, passing from dark to dark,
containing darkness: a night of rain, an early morning.
i give you the life i have let live for the love of you:
a clump of orange-blooming weeds beside the road,
the young orchard waiting in the snow, our own life
that we have planted in the ground, as i
have planted mine in you. i give you my love for all
beautiful and honest women that you gather to yourself
again and again, and satisfy--and this poem,
no more mine than any man's who has loved a woman.
wendell berry (taken from the country of marriage)
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| i'm back from a lengthy hiatus from gr. if anything the short time that i was on the east coast made me realize a couple of things. first, i could pretty much never live in dc. the city itself was very interesting, but being living and working in a place that is so business oriented does not appeal to me. time to check off any idea of doing lobbying as a living (was i?).... second and perhaps more important conclusion, i like the midwest. there, i said it as my sister has said to me it does take a swallowing of pride, especially coming from new mexico that one can fully appreciate living in such a different setting. third, where is home? if i'm thinking such things, then where is home?
despite some of these questions swirling around my head the time away gave me some important time to read fiction and literature, both things that i sadly seldom do. despite my aversion to reproducing song lyrics, quotes and other things during a post to take up room ( all of which i've done) i have found a particular gem by billy collins,
shoveling snow with buddha
in the usual iconography of the temple or the local wok
you would never see him doing such a thing,
tossing the dry snow over the mountain
of his bare, round shoulder,
his hair tied in a knot,
a model of concentration.
sitting is more his speed, if that is the word
for what he does, or does not do.
even the season is wrong for him.
in all his manifestations, is it not warm and slightly humid?
is this not implied by his serene expression.
that smile so wide it wraps itself around the waist of the universe?
but here we are, working out way down the driveway,
one shovelful at a time.
we toss the light powder into the clear air.
we feel the cold mist on out faces.
and with every heave we disappear
and become lost to each other
in these sudden clouds of our own making,
these fountain -bursts of snow.
this is so much better than a sermon in church,
I say out loud, but buddha keeps on shoveling.
this is the true religion, the religion of snow,
and sunlight and winter geese barking in the sky,
i say, but he is too busy to hear me.
he has thrown himself into shoveling snow
as if it were the purpose of existence,
as if the sign of a perfect life were a clear driveway
you could back the car down easily
and drive off into the vanities of the world
with a broken heater fan and a song on the radio.
all morning long we work side by side,
me with my commentary
and he inside the generous pocket of his silence,
until the hour is nearly noon
and the snow is piled high all around us;
then, i hear him speak.
after this, he asks,
can we go inside and play cards?
certainly, i reply, and i will heat some milk
and bring cups of hot chocolate to the table
while you shuffle the deck,
and our boots stand dripping by the door.
aaah, says the buddha, lifting his eyes
and leaning for a moment on his shovel
before he drives the thin blade again
deep into the glittering snow.
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| i'm off for a little adventure.
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| whoa,
a lot of things have changed since i last left an entry. i hope and pray that all find themselves in a good night situation. beware, there will be more to come as the summer progresses. peace and love to all.
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| its becoming more rare for me to get the feeling like i have something noteworthy to share with the rest of the world. for the three people that read this blog go out and watch the documentary Why We Fight which entails the dangerous mixture of the present day military industrial complex and its implications for societies across the globe.
i now suffer from swass for all day long since even the house is blazing hot.
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