Some useful thoughts on the influence our emotions have on us, and we on them (see number 5).
Posted in reblogged
Some say math and music are universal languages. This video is in Russian. I don’t understand Russian, so I don’t understand the words to the song. There are no mathematical equations in the video. But, provided the song matches the video, somehow I think I understand what is being said. It seems to fit really well with this proverb from the Old Testament book of Proverbs, as well as with this passage from the Book of Mormon. If anyone who understands the lyrics would like to enlighten me as to whether they match the video, I’d be grateful.
Based on what I see, I’d say love (in this case, charity as the Romans called it; agape to the Greeks) is the most universal language.
Three tourists by the shore,
Capris and shorts they wore.
Reading the signs, the lore
Casting eyes where birds soar.
At Lady Liberty
They gaze, filled with wonder;
In awe of history,
Founding Fathers ponder.
No time to ferry ride;
Hold hands, walk side by side.
Leaving Battery Park
By foot they head to Wall.
Construction leaves its mark:
They pass Scaffolding Hall.
Three young men talk on stairs
Their skin darker than mine.
To greet hello he dares;
Of brotherhood a sign.
His light he will not hide.
But not a word he speaks
Not because he felt weak
Rather the tallest lad
Spoke first. It made him sad,
For what the tall one said
Echoed around his head;
I can’t repeat it here,
It’s a bit crude I fear.
A euphemism: died.
The tall one asserted
To he who held her hand,
Freckled white on brown tanned,
White would be deserted
If euphemism sought
When being intimate;
Yes, indiscriminate.
His voice in his throat caught.
Words he could not abide.
His heart did palpitate,
His stomach nauseate,
As fight or flight took hold,
His face he painted cold
On they walked, on to Wall
Their pace they slowed, they stalled.
Pondered holes and heroes
While paused at ground zero.
Again the subway ride.
They arrived at Times Square
Soon to get in line where
Tickets were but half-fare;
Until then linger there.
Strolling, his hand she squoze
The gesture he returned.
What happened next, juxtaposed
With what you have just learned.
Words made him smile, bona fide.
One darker skinned than me
Pointing at tourists three,
The affection he framed
To his friends he exclaimed,
“That’s what I want! It’s love.
That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout!
That’s what I want some of,
Real affection, no doubt!”
As the two events vied,
His head his heart did guide.
Copyright © 2013 H.K. Longmore
Posted in poetry
Tagged affection, Battery Park, choice, juxtaposition, love, Manhattan, New York City, poem, self-control
This picture was taken on a day when, after a late afternoon appointment at the doctor’s office, I said, “Nope, I’m not going back to work today.”
In my FB activity feed, I saw a friend had commented on a “photo”, you know, the kind that is really just a bunch of text someone slapped onto a background with Paint or Photoshop or Gimp… and now they’ve shared it on FB. The text said:
Do you ever just wake up and go “NOPE” …and roll over and go back to sleep?
My friend commented “everyday”. The page/user was named “Forget love forever alone”, but using a crude and distasteful four letter word in place of “forget”. I’d like to think this friend just didn’t happen to notice the name, that if they had they wouldn’t have felt compelled to continue, but it makes me wonder…
Do you ever comment on a photo/link/status/etc., and not realize that you’ve just associated yourself with something crass?
[A note to my readers and followers: Before you decide to stop reading or unfollow me because you think I’m a prude or naïve, know that I have said my share of those crass, crude, and distasteful words, both softly and yelled with venom; I have also chosen to leave them behind.]
Posted in commentary
Tagged become as a child, impressions, introspection, social web
Copyright © 2013 H.K. Longmore
Confidently I will tell you
Of the crime I witnessed at noon.
The thing occurred sometime between
When she stole a glance at his jeans
As she stole away to get lunch
And when she her last bite did munch.
Confidentially, it was hers
But he stole it away with ease
He didn’t try, needed no keys
His touch was so soft—soft as furs.
Confidence—the thing she now lacks
Which he fain would return if asked
(I asked him if he had realized
Her attempting to cauterize
The wound, stealing backward glances,
But by her eyes he was entranced).
Consistent, compliant, softly
Now he seeks to her to restore
The confidence he never took
And I wish to tell her before
Her confidence by him was shook
This well-worn sagacious two bits:
If she’d have, in time, her druthers,
Never give it to another;
Only she has power o’er it.
Posted in poetry
Tagged atonement, communication, consequence, misunderstanding, poem, relationships, resilience
I learned of this article discussing the push by Nestlé executives to privatize water from a Facebook share, on which I commented:
The filter between my brain and mouth, or fingers, won’t let me say the crass words that may come to mind were I to let emotions rule. And by the time I have time to write more powerfully about it, this article will have from my newsfeed passed, so let me just say that the glass is half full for those who respect their Mother, and refer you to a quote from Antoine de Saint-Exupéry that I call his “Ode to Water”. Unfortunately I don’t have it on hand, so I’ll have to add it after I go home and have a glass of wasser. I had to comment now so as to not let the opportunity pass to share Antoine’s words: they, unlike the Nestlé execs, are filled with class.
So now, the quote from Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, which I call “Ode to Water”. From his book “Wind, Sand and Stars“, the chapter titled “Prisoner of the Sand”, translated by Lewis Galantière:
Water, thou hast no taste, no color, no odor; canst not be defined, art relished while ever mysterious. Not necessary to life, but rather life itself, thou fillest us with a gratification that exceeds the delight of the senses. By thy might, there return into us treasures that we had abandoned. By thy grace, there are released in us all the dried-up runnels of our heart. Of the riches that exist in the world, thou art the rarest and also the most delicate—thou so pure within the bowels of the earth! A man may die of thirst lying beside a magnesian spring. He may die within reach of a salt lake. He may die though he hold in his hand a jug of dew, if it be inhabited by evil salts. For thou, water, art a proud divinity, allowing no alteration, no foreignness in thy being. And the joy that thou spreadest is an infinitely simple joy.
I hesitated posting this today, because I already posted just two days ago, but I felt the timing was significant. 😉
Copyright © 2013 H.K. Longmore
Others have said it, and they’ve said it well
But an accusation that mine ain’t swell
(What is wrong with his timing? Everything.)
In jest, perhaps, is the reason I fling
Words out in iambic pentameter
As I ponder timing’s role, dear reader.
When the timing’s right, it is the reason
Your motorized vehicle runs at all,
Why your chainsaw prepares for cold seasons;
We call some graceful dancers at a ball.
When it’s off, some jokes fall without a laugh,
Some musicians will have to hide their gaffe;
But set it right and accidents avoid,
Catch your tongue before slips described by Freud
Escape your lips to cause social mishaps,
Stop a spill before it lands in your lap.
By your good timing, crimes in progress stop
Whether by interference or a cop.
Good timing is required for conception,
Fast friends form from well-timed introductions.
Apply right timing and head over heels
Can calm until you hear wedding bells peal,
But if you delay or the timing’s wrong
It may be that all you’ll hear is “So long”.
So it would appear my words at me yell
To fix my timing, if what’s wrong he’d tell.
Conextrainformafusion – /kən-ek-strə-in-fər-mā-fyü-zhən/ – noun
Confusion resulting from saying too much and having the extraneous information misunderstood.
Etymology: portmanteau of confusion, extraneous, and information.
First use: 2013
I thought I’d coin a word today.
But instead of simple thought post,
Presenting with rhythm and rhyme
Is how I’ll coin, with some word play.
He who wins is he who says most
Is not a truism for our time
Unless imparting confusion
By the excess information
Is the goal to which we aspire.
Your intentions misunderstood,
Your priorities now in mire.
See these results if see you could
Whether by light of moon or sun.
Here is the word, write it in clay
Say it proudly, say it with boast;
But don’t say it in unison:
Conextrainformafusion.
Soon comprehension will disperse
By the length of my little verse
And now perhaps I’ve caused again
Conextrainformafusion.
Copyright © 2013 H.K. Longmore
Copyright © 2013 H.K. Longmore
Sometimes my tongue
Commits to things
My mind and lungs,
My heart the king
Know it commits
Sincerely true,
Yet it omits
Its fault, their rue:
No follow through.
It fain would do
What it has said;
Its mates have read
Consequence due.
At the end of January, 2004, I was rear-ended while waiting at the light on Bangerter and 7000 South by a driver who had fallen asleep at the wheel. The driver fled the scene on foot as his car was badly damaged as well, but he was apprehended. He did not have insurance. My first car lost its trunk, and I lost it. I was unconscious for at least 8 minutes as a result of this collision.
On 12 October, 2005, my dad picked me up from the airport returning from a business trip to Japan. Southbound on Bangerter Highway, we were rear-ended while in motion by a driver trying to pass a third vehicle. The driver made an attempt to make his vehicle fit into the space already occupied by ours, which propelled us across the median. When we came up the other side, a torque moment was created due to the net weight difference between the passenger side and the driver side. We rolled across the northbound lanes, at least three times. Some say it was less, but the first time was when my window broke, the second time was when I looked down out my broken window and saw the asphalt thinking, “If the car keeps rolling I’m going to die!”, and once more to land upright. The position and orientation of the car made it look as though we had merely pulled off the road, but for the car. The other driver fled in his car. They had to use the jaws of life to get my dad out. The mark of the jaws of life? No doors.
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| The Impact of Therap… on Out to Lunch | |
| Summer’s Tail… on Teepee Valves | |
| Ow. | Henry Hurdles… on Teepee Valves | |
| Vacant Echoes | Musi… on Trashed |
Musings of a Kunderian Monster 
Judgement
I wrote this over the weekend (before all the news stories that say essentially the same thing came out), and didn’t intend to post it. But the post I wanted to post is taking on a life of its own, so here’s some filler instead. Not that it is trite, but a) you all have probably heard enough about this, and b) compared to this other post, I am not emotionally invested in it. So, the post:
Treyvon is dead. His killer was deemed not guilty of murder, and not guilty of manslaughter. People are upset, how could this happen? They make it about politics. They make it about race. They make it about wealth. They say there is no question about whether he was the man who did it, or that he did it. They claim the only question is, was he fully justified in every way in doing it?
But this is not what the jurors were instructed to deliberate. What were they instructed to deliberate?
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Posted in commentary
Tagged Guilt (law), Jury, Zimmerman