Showing posts from March, 2016

Poetry: Looking for Good Fish by Hafiz

Looking For Good Fish

Why complain about life
If you are looking for good fish
And have followed some idiot
Into the middle of the copper market?

Why go crazy
If you are looking for fine silk
And you keep rubbing your hands against
Burlap and hemp sacks?

If your heart really needs to touch a face
That is filled with abundance
Then why didn't you come to this
Old Man sooner?

For my cheek is the universe's cloister
And if you can make prayers sweet enough

Then Hafiz will lean over and offer you
All the warmth in my body
In case God is busy
Doing something else

Why complain if you are looking
To quench your spirit's longing
And have followed a rat into a desert.

If your soul really need to touch a face
That is always filled with compassion
And tenderness
Then why,

Why my dear
Did you not come to your friend Hafiz

- Hafiz
(From The GiftTranslated by Daniel Ladinsky)

Photography: Tea

-- Jane

Observation: The "Black" Woman

She lives on the 14th floor! When first I encountered her, I could not help but stare. She wore a tight black top, tight black leather skirt, black tights, black leather knee boots, and her raven black hair matched her black bag. Her pale skin glowed death-like in her pool of black. But her lips were bright red. It was fall. I could not envision her as a retail sales girl. You know, like when you walk into a cosmetic shop and are greeted by the scary swarm in black?  At least, this is what happens in the movies. Her style looked more like a choice And not a trend, like goth or anything of the sort. It seemed "her." I can't really explain it. And once I became aware of her, I started to see her often. Did she just move into the neighborhood? Had she always been there and I somehow missed her? Then I would see her going to work. I assumed it was to work she was heading because of the early hours. And sometimes I saw her walking with a particular man, her husband? Boyfrien…

Grad School Diary: Intellectual Starvation

Because it is past time I moved out and into a cell of my own, I found myself doing a little research on what careers are available for a graduate degree in English. Usually one would consider their job prospects before doing a program but I did the program for the fun of it. Hence the reward is the act in of itself. But I started to wonder, knowing what I know now, will I make the same choice if I could go back in time? At first I thought, yes I will. Then I thought about it a little more and the answer is heck yes I will! Graduate school is one of the best things I have invested money and time into and I have learned more than I could have imagined. It was never my plan to get a master's degree in literature. I flirted, briefly, with the idea in college and gave it up owing to my feelings on research papers: not fun. Even when I got accepted into the program and through the fog of surprise I could feel my ego swimming in pride, I still hesitated because research papers are not …

Poetry: The Awakening by James Weldon Johnson

The Awakening
by James Weldon Johnson

I dreamed that I was a rose
That grew beside a lonely way,
Close by a path none ever chose,
And there I lingered day by day.
Beneath the sunshine and the show’r
I grew and waited there apart,
Gathering perfume hour by hour,
And storing it within my heart,
        Yet, never knew,
Just why I waited there and grew.

I dreamed that you were a bee
That one day gaily flew along,
You came across the hedge to me,
And sang a soft, love-burdened song.
You brushed my petals with a kiss,
I woke to gladness with a start,
And yielded up to you in bliss
The treasured fragrance of my heart;
        And then I knew
That I had waited there for you.


Abstract Photography: Untitled (Sunrise)

The golden snippets of the rising sun that walk me to work  have exposed my lies about not being a morning person.  I had forgotten the generous kisses of the first light of day.  -- Jane