Muse in the Morning

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Muse in the Morning

State of the Onion XVI

Art Link



Each time

a class of people

is defined

humanity is divided

hewed like an old log

Just like that log

destruction occurs

at the point

where the axe strikes

But the damage done

to the people

in the path of the cut

is much more serious

than the harm done

to some old wood

Race cuts like a saber

through individuals

of mixed ancestry

Can you feel their pain?

How feels the slice

of the katana

of ethnicity

to someone

whose grandparents

hail from four different cultures?

Blood spurts

from the laceration

of the gender scimitar

through those

not exactly

men or women

I live

on the edge

of that blade

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–March 30, 2006

◊  ◊  ◊

In late March, 2006 old art was coupled with a new poem.  Sometimes I compose poems in my head as I walk along.  The trouble is that when I get to where I am going and try to write it down, it’s never quite the same.  This is one of those.  I’m not displeased with the result, but it’s not as good as it once was.

In the end, it is really all about the ways we can be divided and the people who benefit when that happens, rather than the ways we can celebrate or similarities together, in spite of our differences.

Good morning.  Be excellent to one another.


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    • Robyn on November 28, 2008 at 14:48

    And I wish I knew what the topic of last night’s dream was because that probably would have made a good topic for today’s essay.  Instead, I am without.  Anyone have a spare?

    Oh and if you didn’t notice, the above is one of my shape poems.

    Yawn.  The thought of additional sleep battles duty and responsibility.

  1. Maus walked off into the sunset yesterday morning and pretty much ruined our mood.  The Thanksgiving e-mail to Jen was returned–undeliverable.  Then I got a little upset at our Thanksgiving feast when one of the young men stated his opinion that the girl who killed herself because her online boyfriend dumped her had a whole lot wrong with her that brought on her suicide, and the woman who pretended to be the boyfriend was not responsible.  I told him, “I totally agree with you.  There are weak people walking around out there, and we should all lean as hard on them as we can so they will off themselves and rid this overcrowded world of these useless ones.”  For a minute, everyone thought I was serious, lord help them.  I didn’t actually beat him up, because I was sure he was just repeating something he heard.

    We had a nice time with our adopted family and a lovely dinner.  I just feel a little deflated today.

    • kj on November 28, 2008 at 19:21

    disappear into the ether… i really hate that too.

    one came to me on friday, i did my best to cement it in my head since i was driving on the highway, but forgot it.  one line can hold an entire thought, and when it’s come, so goes the whole gestalt of the thing.


    okay, so Robyn, stayed home for Thanksgiving.  going to the wingers in-laws was just going to be a disaster… the whole family there, all of them, the last time we were all together like that much shouting ensued (politics, of course) and much anger and tenseness and i just decided i can’t do that.  so, last minute decision, we stayed home and i hooked up my refurbished Wacom tablet.  your art and poem combos inspire.  πŸ™‚   just wanted you to know.

    i’m very sentimental today.  i love everyone here.   πŸ™‚

    • kj on November 28, 2008 at 19:24

    I live

    on the edge

    of that blade


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