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State of the Onion I

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Pencil and Wax

Words

The words take control
demand to be written
I help guide them
dress them up
slim them down
searching for
clarity, brevity, emotion
hopefully all three
I’m not sure
where they come from
perhaps from the pains
and joys of my life
The words are the blood
in the vessels of my mind
just as feelings are
the blood feeding my soul
Is there any separation
between me and the words?

–Robyn Elaine Serven
–January 10, 2006

Nothingness and Being

Someone once asked me what Taoists believe.  I don’t know what Taoist’s believe.  I can only know what I believe.  It’s not like we have churches or need people to tell us what the writings mean.  The mental game we’re playing here is to figure it out for ourselves.  There is no accomplishment in blind obeisance to someone else’s interpretation.  I think I can say that all Taoist are on the same page up to just about here.

The first chapter of the Tao te Ching (loosely, Book of the Way…and yes, we have a book)  tells us we are on our own when it comes to interpreting existence.  That certainly includes the meaning of the words in the book.  Several parts of the book discuss the futility of trying to teach the Tao to anyone else.

But I digress…

Defective Products?

I have the schedule from Hell.  I suppose it could be worse, but any sane people would see a worse schedule and stop the insanity.  I’m on the cusp of instanity, so it slid through.

I have classes MW 6-7:45 and TTH 10-11:45, 4-5:45 and 6-7:45.  Tuesdays and Thursdays at 2pm is when faculty meetings take place…every week.  So I have just about enough time open on those days to eat lunch.

Anyway, that’s not my topic.  I met my classes this past week and tried to impress them with how much fun they can have if they want to do so…and how much it would please their instructor if they adopted such an attitude.  Only time will tell me if I was successful in that.

Between the Rock and the Hard Streets

When the truth is found to be lies
and all the joy within you dies
don’t you want somebody to love
don’t you need somebody to love
wouldn’t you love somebody to love
you better find somebody to love

–Somebody to Love (Jefferson Airplane/Darby Slick)

I heard the music.  Grace Slick spoke to me.  The words tore at my heart.  I was living those lies.  And it seemed that my options were few.

Academic Years II


Lace

Like the Pixels

The pixels
laid singly
or in short segments
pixilated sand
intricately woven
into a meaningful
pattern
pixie dust
spread
to simulate
complexity

My world grows
takes new form
until it gets
to the point
where it can be
flipped,
flopped
flooped
it’s the flooping
that makes it
distinctly mine

Moments
are the pixels
of being
by which we color
the larger
tapestry
of our lives
living
in the instant
in the now
is our floop

–Robyn Elaine Serven
–November 8. 2005

A Christening

Poem du Jour:

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Body

The Body

Some people call it
pornography…
people who quite probably
think my existence is
pornography personified.

But it’s just a bunch of
blood red dots on a
yellow background
a stark symbolization
of much of my life

I say to them (to you?)
eliminate war, the worst obscenity,
from my tv news, from the planet,
from existence, from conception
and then we’ll talk

–Robyn Elaine Serven
–October 28, 2005

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