I don’t write in a journal everyday, but I have accumulated many entries over the past 50+ years beginning in 1966. Some items evolved into longer works. Among the leftovers little pieces survived. I thought a collection of these with a piece culled from the same date in a past year would make an interesting yearbook. The consistencies and inconsistencies of mind, skipping back and forth across time, provide varied perspectives. It is difficult to remember the context of the past we’ve lived; we also make suppositions about times that predate ourselves.

The few alterations from original drafts were to improve clarity. The worst of my work is not included. There remains enough mediocrity and immaturity to make me feel humble and you feel smart. There are also moments of accidental insight and incidental humor.

Author Stephen Crane referred to his little pieces as pills…apparently they were small and somewhat hard to swallow, but good for you.


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Thursday, December 3, 2020

idealistic advice & The roots of the tree

 

December 3, 1979  (I was 35)    +that below 40 yrs. later

 

         idealistic advice

In civil protest sit in silence

weep at the outrage of your indignity

weep at the violence done to your person

do not resist force

disperse when displaced

or proceed to prison calmly

If you are assured of a hearing voice

speak your cause clearly

If you are not heard

save your own life

get out of prison

and live where you can

as long as you can

 

December 3, 2019  (I was 75)

 

The roots of the tree spread deep

in the moldy soil of long ago

What can they know of this year’s leaves

flaunting a different color each month

murmuring or singing in this year’s wind

Twig holds leaf branch hold twig

limb holds branch trunk holds limb

Trunk carries whisper and song underground

vibrating rumors of light and sound

to million tendril tongues lapping

the nourishment of dirt to seed

which ripens with leaf to fall

a decomposition to anchor the roots

and feed new seeds around them

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