Thanks for the information, Mr. Dark. I don't have either of those books, but I never mind buying another Bradbury book....

Well, I sure wasn't looking for any pats on the back from anyone. I was just typing away in the earlier hours.

On the way into school this morning, I was thinking about what responses had followed my comments on poetry writing. I kept coming back to "patrask's" line. I have always admired those that can create and design, whether buildings, machines, or sprawling landscapes (Yestermorrow, RB comes to mind).

There is something about leaving your handprint on the earth in such a manner that seems permanent. So, I guess you are a poet already, P!

And without an ounce of criticism, and along with pterran's boost, I might add, "What are you waiting for?!"

Mr. Dark:

Hey...thanks for speedy response.

Tell you the truth, I never knew exactly the title of the poem or where it was printed. I have neither of those two poetry books you mentioned.

But just the mere reading of those lines you posted, already brings tears to my eyes. Just those simple words. Now, I think what it is...is the description of how close God is to everything. He writes his very presence in the mere whorls of our fingertips. Incredible reality.

Thanks all for the encouragement. As I near final retirement the call of my muse seems larger. A siren song, to be sure, but enticing nevertheless.

patrask:

My "retirement" was forced upon me by a layoff, after 13 years with a telecommunications firm. At 48, new job prospects didn't look good. But . . .

I'm teaching philosophy as an Associate Professor at community college,

I have opened a black & white fine-art portrait business,

I'm working on a book and have two others in queue,

I'm written and published op-ed pieces,

etc.

I say, if you want to write, the time to start is now. Good luck.

An example here of RB�s Poetic style, revised from his novel's narration. (To be read with intonation and feeling to capture the moments)

Col. Freeleigh & Pawnee Bill

Pawnee Bill, 1875�yes, me and Pawnee Bill.
On a little rise in the middle of the
prairie, waiting,
�Shhh!� says Pawnee Bill. �Listen!�
The prairie like a big stage all set for the
storm to begin.
Thunder. Soft. Thunder again. Not soft.
And across the prairie as far as the eye
could see,
This ominous yellow-dark cloud full of black
lightning,
Somehow sunk to earth, fifty miles wide,
fifty miles long,
A mile high, and no more than an inch off
the ground.
�Lord!� I cried, �Lord!� --from up the hill--
�Lord!�
The earth pounded like a mad heart, boys,
a heart gone to panic.
My bones shook fit to break. The earth shook:
Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat, boom! Rumble.
That�s a rare word: rumble.
Oh, how that mighty storm rumbled along.
Down, up, and over the rises,
And all you could see was the cloud and
nothing inside.
�That�s them!� cried Pawnee Bill.
And the cloud was dust. Not vapors or rain,
no, prairie dust,
Flung up from tinderdry grass like fine
corn meal,
Like pollen all blazed with sunlight now,
For the sun had come out.
I shouted again. Why?
Because in all that hell-fire filtering dust,
Now a veil moved aside and I saw them,
I swear it! The grand army of the ancient
prairie:
The Bison, the buffalo!

I just wanted to stand there,
time trundling by.
An hour, three hours, six it took
for the storm to pass,
On away over the horizon
Toward less kind men than me.
Pawnee Bill gone, I stood alone, stone deaf.
Numb, I walked to a town a 100 miles away.
I heard not voices of the men,
And satisfied not to hear.
I wanted to remember the thunder.
I hear it still, summer afternoons like this
when the the rain shapes over the lake.
A fearsome, wonderous sound...
One I wish you might have heard....

-from DW, R. Bradbury


As I listen to the words here, I sense there is an awe or inspiration being celebrated by the author similar to that present in the "Stars" poem above!




[This message has been edited by fjpalumbo (edited 11-25-2003).]

May Peace be the greatest gift you give, receive, and strive for in the year to come!
-------------------------------------
We all drink from one water
We all breathe from one air
We all rise from one ocean
And we live under one sky
Remember
We are one
The newborn baby cries the same
The laughter of children is universal
Everyone�s blood is red
And our hearts beat the same song
Remember
We are one
We are all brothers and sisters
Only one family, only one earth
Together we live
And together we die
Remember
We are one
Peace be on you
Brothers and sisters
And on earth peace among all people!

-From a poem by Anwar Fazal, Malaysia

I second the poem with another:

Great Mystery, still unknown,
Help us to live without fear
To:
Respect all life around us,
even as our own;
Value kindness over strength;
Listen, and not lecture;
Value friendship over possessions;
Seek balance, not excess;
See life as a process and a journey;
Use our time wisely and discover that
we are a part of the
Mystery, and thus have purpose in our moment.
With knowledge may we gain understanding;
Through understanding may we lessen fear;
Through change may we gain wisdom;
May nurturing life bring purpose to our lives;
May purpose lead to love;
With love may we reach harmony
within the Great Mystery