Vanilla slices are too hard to share

There are too many people on earth
So kill yourself now,don’t give birth
Yet that is immoral
Murder abhorrent
Let’s eat less and wear less, be first!

Do we really need chocolate eclairs?
Vanilla slices are too hard to share
A sponge cake is easier
A  gift  for the queasier
With icing  and jam we want more.

The traffic is hellish today
I  think I prefer to stay here
I hear the birds sing
To the maple they wing
I wish I could  fly right up there

Mice dancing

P1000146.jpgI once played the piano all night
The neighbours were  very polite
“We heard some mice dancing
With music enchanting
But make sure the cat does not bite”

I tried a guitar for a week
I failed to make the strings speak
I went back to the  seller
I  cried,my dear fellow
I  cannot play this as it leaks

Singing is  the cheapest of arts
It’s free if the larynx  won’t smart
You can practise  outside
As you go for a ride
And the cats all around might take part

Conversation,does it exist?

ccbfe01593764a8096910a26e3fb6f97_18https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2014/01/the-eavesdropper/355727/

Extract:

Conversations, as they tend to play out in person, are messy—full of pauses and interruptions and topic changes and assorted awkwardness. But the messiness is what allows for true exchange. It gives participants the time—and, just as important, the permission—to think and react and glean insights. “You can’t always tell, in a conversation, when the interesting bit is going to come,” Turkle says. “It’s like dancing: slow, slow, quick-quick, slow. You know? It seems boring, but all of a sudden there’s something, and whoa.

Occasional dullness, in other words, is to be not only expected, but celebrated. Some of the best parts of conversation are, as Turkle puts it, “the boring bits.” In software terms, they’re features rather than bugs.

The logic of conversation as it plays out across the Internet, however—the into-the-ether observations and the never-ending feeds and the many, many selfies—is fundamentally different, favoring showmanship over exchange, flows over ebbs. The Internet is always on. And it’s always judging you, watching you, goading you. “That’s not conversation,” Turkle says.

She wants us to reclaim the permission to be, when we want and need to be, dull.

Where should a tale begin?

I remember how we felt  ourselves as one
I did not need to speak in words at all
As if we were both  dwelling in one skin

If I tell, where should my tale begin?
When I first responded to your call?
I remember how we felt  each other one

I touched your hand. still warm.  yet you were gone
Your structure  had collapsed like punctured ball
Oh. we were both  dwelling in one skin

So I am separated from my twin
I feel confused,my mind is in a brawl
I remember how we felt  each other one

From two  persons comes  strange new one
The Trinity of love makes a new soul
Then our work on earth is almost done

Over  long pale sands the  tide will flow
In and out like breathing, as seas roll
If I  write where should my tale begin?
In   that loving tangle of bare limbs?

 

My Voice by Rafael Campo

To cure myself of wanting Cuban songs,
I wrote a Cuban song about the need
For people to suppress their fantasies,
Especially unhealthy ones. The song
Began by making reference to the sea,
Because the sea is like a need so great
And deep it never can be swallowed. Then
The song explores some common myths
About the Cuban people and their folklore:
The story of a little Carib boy
Mistakenly abandoned to the sea;
The legend of a bird who wanted song
So desperately he gave up flight; a queen
Whose strength was greater than a rival king’s.
The song goes on about morality,
And then there is a line about the sea,
How deep it is, how many creatures need
Its nourishment, how beautiful it is
To need. The song is ending now, because
I cannot bear to hear it any longer.
I call this song of needful love my voice.

Rafael Campo,doctor and poet

pexels-photo-242178.jpeghttps://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/Rafael-campo

EXTRACT

Campo’s own poetry tends to mix narratives of family, history, and illness with an attention to form, especially received forms. His interest in forms, he has alleged, comes from his own “hybrid” experience: “Being a hybrid myself, I’m very interested in playing with Indonesian forms and Middle Eastern forms, importing some of these things, being in a way almost promiscuous with form.” Campo’s first book, The Other Man was Me (1994), won the National Poetry Series; his second, What the Body Told (1996) was awarded the Lambda Literary Award for Poetry. Critic Frederick Luis Aldama has described Campo’s technique in his early work: “His poems are highly structured… he uses the security of form as a position from which to delve deep into the heart of his own feelings—feelings for his AIDS and cancer patients and for emergency room arrivals who have suffered from brutal encounters with an overwhelmingly homophobic and racist American society.”

Other collections of poetry also utilize a dramatic range of forms. In Diva (1999), which includes Campo’s translations of poems by Federico Garcia Lorca, he attempts terza rima, villanelles, pantoums, heroic couplets, and envelope quatrains. In the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA), Jay A. Liveson called the book Campo’s “most pointed” collection to date and “a virtuoso display” of formal poetic styles. Campo’s other collections of poetry include Landscape with Human Figure (2002), winner of the Gold Medal in Poetry from ForeWord, and The Enemy (2007), which received the Sheila Motton Book Prize from the New England Poetry Club. His latest book of poetry is Alternative Medicine (2013).

Both of Campo’s collections of prose, The Poetry of Healing (1997) andThe Healing Art (2003), address the subjects found in his poetry, while describing the difficulties and rewards of being a poet-doctor. The Poetry of Healing won praise from many different quarters, including reviews in medical journals and a Lambda literary award. In Christian Century, Arthur W. Frank examined the book as a piece of “medical self-reflection” that challenged the administrative restrictions common to the profession. “Campo’s writing—the transformation of life in narrative and poetry—is the final expression of his fidelity to his patients … Campo shows the difficulty of cultivating public-spiritedness as an individual virtue within systems of managed care.” The Healing Art also received praise from literary and medical journals alike. Using poems from poets like William Carlos WilliamsMarilyn Hacker, and Lucia Perillo, Campo addresses the necessity of differentiating between “healing” and “curing.” In the New England Journal of Medicine, Teresa Schraeder claimed that “Rafael Campo uses a palette of poetry to provoke the reader to philosophical, even existential thoughts about the ways in which illness and death define human experience.”