Archive for the ‘elephants’ category

21st Day of National Poetry Month – The Body Is Not Your Good Dog.

April 21, 2010



Good Dog! (Not Your Body)

The 21st day of National Poetry Month, and I have a terrible, terrible cold.  So far, I’ve managed to spare you the poem devoted to “rhinovirus,” but I found, in trying to write tonight’s draft poem, that I could not stay completely away from the subject of the fickleness of the body.

Note, in reading the draft poem, that pauses are only intended to be taken based on punctuation–commas, semi-colons, periods–and not at the ends of lines (unless punctuated.)

Here, Body

The body is not your good dog.
It may sit, lie down, roll over,
do tricks for food, and seem to love;
but there’s a limit to its Rover

aspect.  It will get sick just when
you tell it not to.  There’s no yanking
on that leash.  It will decay
when you say stay;  there’s no spanking

with a rolled-up newspaper,
not even the Times, which can train
it to heel, to keep
to the right side of that called sane.

It won’t obey you even when
it knows what you desperately want,
when its lesson has been learned
before, again; still, it will vaunt

its own fleshly, furry ways,
taking up all room upon your bed,
refusing to hush when hushed,
and, except when dancing, to be led.

16th Day of National Poetry Month – Vacationing Away From New York Limericks

April 16, 2010

New Yorker In a Car (Outside of New York)

Unfortunately, this 16th day of National Poetry Month was so busy I had little time to focus on much poetic.  A good day, in short, for draft limericks!

I’m sorry to say that the limericks I did  (which connect as one longer poem draft) have a fairly limited subject matter;  they describe that feeling of “going to seed” which may descend on vacation, particularly a family vacation, in which normal exercise and eating routines are put to the side; this feeling may be particularly pronounced in the case of the peripatetic New Yorker.

The limerick form is five lines, with a rhyme scheme that is typically: A, A, b, b, A; with the first, second and fifth rhyming lines longer than the truncated couplet of the third and fourth lines.

Traveling New Yorker

There was an old gal from New York
who watched what she put on her fork;
still, outside the confines
of the Four and Five lines,
she felt herself turning to pork.

The thing is that life in the City
made her walk through the nit and the gritty,
while, whenever afar,
she traveled by car,
quite bad for the hips, more’s the pity.

So she worried, this gal from Manhattan,
as she felt herself fatten and fatten–
too many fast treats–
too many cheap eats–
and just about all came au gratin.

Oh, for her home—twenty blocks to a mile;
twenty steps too, till the average turnstile.
Sure, there was soot,
but she’d breathe it on foot.
Once back, she’d stay put for a while.

13th Day of National Poetry Month – Draft Haiku Re Frost and Florida

April 13, 2010

Hot Room in Air-Conditioned House

It’s the thirteenth day of National Poetry Month and I got up at 3:45 a.m. for a flight down to Florida.  As a result, I’ve focused on short poems, haiku, for my drafts of the day.  (For those of you who have not been following this blog, I am honoring National Poetry Month by writing a draft poem a day.)

A classic haiku is seventeen syllables – five in the first line; seven in the second line, and five again in the third line.  Some people (who put content ahead of form) do not abide by these syllabic rules.  Given that a haiku is traditionally written in Japanese, this could probably be justified.   However, because I tend towards the formal more than the meaningful, I try to keep my haiku to the seventeen syllable format.  (Note– title doesn’t count, so it’s a good way to slip in a few more syllables.)

So here are a few haiku, written both in New York, pre-dawn trip to Florida, and after.  Please remember they are all drafts, and are intended to inspire you to your own efforts (which are bound to be as good.)

Killer Frost  (in Fortune Cookie Style)

Premature blossoms
bear no fruit.  Let buds knot wood
till truly their time.


Lack of Sleep As A Cure for Depression

I’m finding, of late,
the ebullience of no sleep.
Regret fades at two.


Florida

Porched concrete like the
forced march of Bermuda grass
fends off ant and file.


Symmetric

Two coconuts hang
like velour dice from a frond.
Is this all just luck?


Airless Room

The hot room in an
air-conditioned house:  vacuum-
sealed, energy-proof.


Nap

Middle of the day
sleep,  warm breath thick and soft as
flesh;  some manage it.


Pre-blossom Branch

Seventh Day of National Poetry Month – New Computer Poem

April 7, 2010

New Computer And Eye Issue

I’m afraid to say this seventh draft poem of National Poetry Month does not bode well.

New Computer

My new computer really hurts my eye.
It swirls, it’s quick, it does
a zillion tricks–sit up, play dead,
if I say “speak”, it speaks;
say “seek”, it finds;  still it puts
me in a very pricey bind–
this new computer really hurts my eye.

But when I try to write things out by hand,
my fingers won’t quite prise
the pen, at least won’t prise
it well; even signing my own name
takes clumsy thought–
which is why I really need this new laptop.

Besides, it beams, how it beams–
which seems to be the problem–all those beams–
like staring at the sun, Louis Quatorze
Medusa, Yoda’s cave that held the Force.
All that glisters is not gold,
but this bright screen has now been sold
to me, oh my, right retina, goodbye,
this lovely new computer hurts my eye.

Sometimes The Batteries Just Run Down

March 3, 2010

Tonight is one of those times.

(PS–the above painting is from “Pantoum”, part of A Definite Spark, a sometime-to-be-published guide to formal poetry for children, parents, and pachyderms, by Karin Gustafson.  In the meantime, please check out 1 Mississippi on Amazon.)

Multitasking in An Elliptical Age (Filling In The Blanks.)

March 2, 2010

Blogging on Elliptical Machine

I’m at the gym right now, trying to write this blog post on the elliptical machine.  One good thing about blogging on an elliptical machine is that it is far safer than blogging while actually jogging, especially at night.

We live in a multitasking world, especially those with Blackberries or iPhones.   (Such devices are a bit like young children at the beach—you feel a strong need to keep at least one eye on them at all times.)

Human life has nearly always required an ability to juggle.  Women in particular multi-tasked long before it was a word— carrying a baby while doing almost anything, watching toddlers while doing almost anything, soothing male egos while doing almost anything.  (Okay, I’m sure traditional men multi-tasked too—trying to keep women subservient while doing almost anything.)

(Sorry.  I guess I’m not in a great mood tonight.  After all, I’m blogging on the elliptical machine.)

Certain types of multi-tasking feel quite natural:  talking with your mouth full;  thinking while scratching your head (or, if male,  your…..) ; gorging while going on a diet.    Some combinations are difficult–cleaning up while you cook, for example–but others  can be achieved by just about everyone.  (Gerald Ford really could walk while chewing gum, no matter what some historians say.)

Typically, tasks which combine well are performed in different quadrants of one’s being, such as the physical body and the mind, or two separate parts of the physical body (mouth and feet.)

But today’s multi-tasking often seems to involve doubling up in the same corporeal or mental space:  talking on the phone while reading one’s email,  constantly updating Facebook status while also doing homework,  driving while texting.

In performing these new multi-tasks, people don’t use different quadrants of themselves, but different quadrants of reality—both the “right here now” reality and the virtual reality of the screen, satellite, busy distracted mind.

For many, virtual reality is more mentally compelling than “right here now”.  Our physical bodies, however, are stuck in “right here now.”

And now I suddenly notice that I’ve been stopping my elliptical gait for whole sentences at a time.  Which makes me think that, when the mind is trying to double-up in one quadrant of activity, it is often not true multi-tasking, but instead switching rapidly between tasks, turning off to one thing as it turns to the other.  In other words, it’s a series of changing gears, each of which brings with it a kind of ellipsis.  A  blank of inattention to at least one of the tasks, and maybe to all of them.

On the road, in the street, in the real world, that can, of course, be very dangerous.  But in the world of the gym, which is kind of a mechanized limbo between “right here now” and the virtual world, it’s actually seeming to work.  I notice suddenly that the elliptical machine is really quite relaxing if you are only doing it in short bits.  And this blog post, amazingly, is just about… done.



Chopin at the World Financial Center–Heavy Hands Were Needed

March 1, 2010

Chopin at World Financial Center (Heavy Hands Were Needed)

Today is the official 200th anniversary of Frederic Chopin’s birth date.   (This is based upon Chopin’s dating of his birth at March 1, rather than baptismal records that stated his date of birth as February 22nd).

I celebrated Chopin’s birthday by realizing,  by chance, that there was a free concert going on next door to my lower Manhattan apartment at the World Financial Center, and (after hurrying my dog through her evening circuit) rushing over there to listen.  (Anxious not to be too late, I considered dragging my dog along too, but figured that the Financial Center’s security guards would not understand either Pearl’s affection for Chopin or her incredibly quiet nature.)

The celebration at the World Financial Center is quite remarkable;  they have set up grand pianos throughout the public spaces upon which preludes, etudes, scherzos, and fantasias are being played all day long (by student pianists.)   This evening, more student pianists, from NYU’s Steinhardt’s Music School, played in the Palm Court under huge cloth awnings that seem to have been set up to try to harness the space’s execrable acoustics.   Heavy amplification of the main concert piano was also used.

The student pianists were wonderful, but heavy amplification does not work well for Chopin—the runs of notes tend to run together, the swirls of arpeggio to become eddies, the little fillips at the end of lines to muddy into ponderous fillips.  Heavy amplification was required, however, because of the constant din of very loud talk.   I don’t mean just from people sitting in the audience, or the occasional child in stroller who would try to sing Happy Birthday in response to a maternal explanation of Chopin’s special day;  I don’t even mean people walking through.  (The concert I went to was “after hours” so there weren’t that many passers-by).  The talk seemed mainly to come from the very few restaurants and bars in the Financial Center, particularly, the Grill Room, that sits up above the Palm Court.

It’s really hard to understand how people’s talking (even when punctuated by the occasional hoot) can be so loud; it couldn’t be called a hum, even a buzz.   Din–the din of a busy market, the barrage of commerce.

The market/commerce aspect arises because it is hard to imagine that there are many people eating at the Financial Center’s few restaurants  other than employees of tenants, i.e. Merrill Lynch, Amex, Cadwallader, Wickersham and Taft, the Dow Jones, the Wall Street Journal.  (Lehman Brothers used to be a tenant; don’t quite know what happened to that one.)

It really is wonderful that such tenants arrange for Chopin to be played; too bad they won’t shut up for it.

Okay, okay, I’m being unfair, snobby, hypocritical.   I make my living from commerce too, as does New York City.  I really am grateful.  The Center sponsors all kinds of strange and wonderful free events–parades of tubas, kayak races, outdoor movies, dance performances, avant garde music, non-avant garde music.   (The Chopin festival, for example, is to continue for five days.)   In our culture, such cultural events rarely happen  without corporate largesse.

But even as I am truly grateful, I am also conscious that every evening, there are also lines of limos and private cars waiting outside the Financial Center, blocks and blocks of big black cars.

It’s very possible that the people who will get into those big cars are not the same ones making so much noise.  Who knows?  Still, I  can’t help but feel that the financial world would spin in a slightly different way if everyone working in it took the subway every day (or at least some days.)  And was a bit quieter while Chopin was being played, live.

Plié While You Read This (Exercise At The Office)

February 24, 2010

Elephant Plié at Desk

Stand Up While You Read This! is the title of an alarming (if not completely surprising) article by Olivia Judson in this week’s New York Times. Judson discusses new studies that show that sitting for long periods every day contributes to obesity (and a bunch of attendant illnesses) not only because sitting, such a passive activity, doesn’t burn many calories but because it actively changes the body’s metabolism.

What’s worse is that many of the negative aspects of sitting are not countered by regular exercise;  one hour of exercise just can’t do battle against hours of lumpishness.

The trick apparently is to break up those lumpy hours, to stand up more–while on the phone, while on the computer.  Standing up at the computer seems at bit hard to me, but some people advocate standing desks with slow moving treadmills beneath them;  others exchange office chairs for those big bright blue therapy balls.   (Oh yes!  I can see sitting on a therapy ball going over very well at my office!)

I don’t think my employer would pay for a slow treadmill either.  (Generally, employers, outside of factories, only go for metaphorical treadmills.)

So what is a worker with a sedentary job (let’s say, in an office) to do?    Some suggestions:

1.  Plié.  You know, deep knee bends, like a ballet dancer.   During those phone calls that you remember to stand up for.  But also, while washing your hands at the lavatory sink, while waiting for the copy machine or coffee machine or elevator.  While in the elevator. It’s low-tech, stationary, and, if you don’t add in arm gestures and are not wearing a short skirt, may not even be very noticeable.  (You may want to stick to demi-pliés and not the full bore ones.)

2.  Continuing in the dance mode, sashay!  Sashaying is a slightly twisting, slightly waltzy, sidestep, with arms extended. Sashaying will get your blood flowing, make you feel terrific (an aura of Fred Astaire almost instantly descends), and also get you to your destination faster.  While it is, theoretically, a graceful maneuver, you may want to save it for those moments when alone in office corridors, or for the stretches of space between open doors.   If you don’t have enough rhythm for a good sashay, pretend you work for the Ministry of Silly Walks.

3.  Take advantage of whatever privacy finds your way.  You have a moment in the Ladies’ Room—try to squeeze in twenty jumping jacks.  (Your heart will not only race from the exercise but from the fear of discovery.)

4.  Make your chair your friend rather than enemy.  Squat.  (Be careful if your chair has wheels.)  I haven’t seen any studies on this, but squatting’s got to be better than sitting.  (Non-obese people squat all over the world.)  Admittedly, squatting is a bit hard on knees that have been doing a lot of pliés.

If you can’t squat, try sitting cross-legged.  (How many obese meditators have you seen?)

Use your armrests for dips.   Try to keep the weight balanced so your chair doesn’t fall over.   (Work on curls while picking up the chair.)

5.  Use your arms too, extend, wiggle. Yes, it’s a little distracting to do arm exercises while talking on the phone or while looking at a computer screen, but it’s a lot less distracting than talking on the phone WHILE looking at a computer screen.  (You know those long distracted silences.  Sometimes they are even your long distracted silences.)

The great thing about all these techniques is that they will burn calories, reduce your chances of sitter’s metabolism, and also, by raising your silliness level, give a lift to both energy and spirits.  Your co-workers, at least, should have a good laugh.

Elephants in Vancouver (Maybe)

February 19, 2010

On the Half-Pipe, But Not Quite as Confident as Shaun White

Happy Friday!

(P.S.  If you like elephants and watercolors, check out 1 Mississippi by Karin Gustafson on Amazon.)

3-Ton Manning

February 7, 2010

Peyton Manning as Elephant

Despite the drawing, I have to confess that I’m not much of a football fan.

I’m not sure that I’ve ever watched a full game.

Oops.

Maybe this (the middle of the game)  is not a good time to write that.

I do understand that this particular game is an exciting one.   I did miss a whole bunch in the middle, but as I write this, there’s just one point between the teams.  (Beginning of 4th Quarter.)

Still, well, there are an awfully lot of commercials.  Which are not really that great.  (Okay.   Yes, I just might go take a course in Paris soon.)

And who knew that The Who still performed?  Or were pyromaniacs?

Oops…  Just look up to see Saint intercept, run down field pointing his finger in triumph.   I’m happy New Orleans is happy.

P.S.  I do not mean to cast any aspersions on Peyton Manning by calling the elephant 3-Ton Manning;  only pointing out that if, in fact, Manning were an elephant, he would weigh at least three tons.  (Or more.)