Monday, November 23, 2009

fly butterfly fly

I represent the 1% of folks that are interested in butterflies.
Butterflies are back at Phipps

So hello my lovely little butterfly, how do you fly.
Your beauty is alluring,
It takes my breath away,
Your clarity is defining,
white and black and gray.
But why do I try to catch so lovely a creature as you?
You deserve your freedom,
so fly, butterfly, fly,
Keep your flight and light upon the air,
flutter here and flutter there,
thou shalt pass my way again, I'm sure.

Your season is spring, and mine is fall,
fly with no regret, and captivate us all...

Thursday, November 12, 2009

maple leaf rag

maple leaf rag

Shifting shapes are formed by wafting breezes
as hue, saturation, and brightness adorn the ardent eye.
Subtle desires burn as yellow and orange conflagrations
indebted to loss of green whence envy makes me sigh.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

whisp of yellow

whisp of yellow

Homegrown wisp of yellow,
thou art my best inspiration,
fraught betwixt mellow template,
brought throngs of exaltation.

a spot of sunlight appeared

a spot of sunlight appeared

beyond the shadows,
below the fold,
between the green,
be ever so bold.

Autumn seed

Autumn seed

Autumn seed, so fluffy and white,
come fly away with me.

The wunda of asplundh

The wunda of asplundh

Isn't it wonderful?
Taken at the back of Westinghouse site, where I used to work, and still play Ultimate Frisbee.

The story of the cotton wool thread

From Gundidepp:

The story of the cotton wool thread.

There once was a small cotton wool thread, that was afraid that he, as he was, would not be useful for anything: "...for a rope I am much too weak", he said to himself; " …and for a pullover too short. To socialize with others, I have much too many inhibitions. For my own embroidery I also say no, in addition I am too pale and too colourless. Yes, if I would be from Lurex, I could garnish a stole or a dress. But what? It does not come to pass! What can I do already? No one needs me. No one likes me – and I me the least of all."

So the small cotton wool thread spoke, put on some sad music and felt entirely dejected. Then a clump of wax knocked on his door and said: "Do not let yourself hang just so, you cotton wool thread! I have an idea: let's both work this out together. For a large candle, you are in fact too short to be a wick and I do not have enough wax for that, but for a tea candle, it would be just right. It is just much better to light a small flame than to always complain about the darkness!"

Because the small cotton wool thread was entirely happy, he sat together with the clump wax and said: "Now my existence has meaning."

And who knows, perhaps there is in the world yet more short cotton wool threads and small wax clumps that could get together themselves in order to illuminate the world?

Die Geschichte vom Baumwollfaden.

Es war einmal ein kleiner Baumwollfaden, der hatte Angst, dass er so, wie er war, zu nichts nützlich sei:
„...für ein Schiffstau bin ich viel zu schwach", sagte er sich;"…und für einen Pullover zu kurz. An andere anzuknüpfen, habe ich viel zu viele Hemmungen. Für eine Stickerei eigne ich mich auch nicht, dazu bin ich zu blass und zu farblos. Ja, wenn ich aus Lurex wäre, dann könnte ich eine Stola verzieren oder ein Kleid. Aber so ? Es reicht nicht!
Was kann ich schon? Niemand braucht mich.
Niemand mag mich – und ich mich am allerwenigsten."

So sprach der kleine Baumwollfaden, legte eine traurige Musik auf und fühlte sich ganz niedergeschlagen.
Da klopfte ein Klümpchen Wachs an seine Tür und sagte: „ Lass dich doch nicht so hängen, du Baumwollfaden! Ich hab' da eine Idee: wir beide tun uns zusammen.
Für eine große Kerze bist du als Docht zwar zu kurz und ich hab' dafür nicht genug Wachs, aber für ein Teelicht reicht es allemal. Es ist doch viel besser ein kleines Licht anzuzünden, als immer nur über die Dunkelheit zu jammern!"

Da war der kleine Baumwollfaden ganz glücklich, tat sich mit dem Klümpchen Wachs zusammen und sagte: „ Jetzt hat mein Dasein doch einen Sinn."

Und wer weiß, vielleicht gibt es in der Welt noch mehr kurze Baumwollfäden und kleine Wachsklümpchen, die sich zusammentun könnten, um der Welt zu leuchten ?

Sunday, November 1, 2009


Symphonie Fantastique Hello, hurrah, herald garish hooray, Heed Halloween with Hector Berlioz; Heard hectic haunting ghoulish dismay, amidst half notes wholly grandiose Hell hath no fury, quotations oft do say, Quell quaff nor stray, elation cannot bray. Delinquent syncopation inverted contra-play, rhythm under reason, sanctioned as ballet.