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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
~ Robert Pinsky
June 2002
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Monday, 10. June 2002

Today - a lyric


Today moving in time, I am wandering back and forth,today your town is not in sight. Today life's black highways snake away in the bright sun. Sunsets and sunrises make no difference when I can't sit and share them with you, today.

Today, I will love you as I loved you before. Today, I already love you as I love you now. Today, I will be loving you as I will be tomorrow.

See there are songs and there are silences but there is only you combining these two. Today the wind is making love to the trees, today the world is tinted green.Today out of my window, I see another night coming on without you. But I am holding on, but I am still breathing in and out, hopin to see myself in you sometime very soon, today.

Today, I will love you as I loved you before. Today, I already love you as I love you now. Today, I will be loving you as I will be tomorrow.

There are clouds in the sky today, today the moon will be in full bloom and I will be awake today, fighting the gloom. I will be dreaming of lamps and landscapes of your skin just like yesterday. The seasons circle around years, earth circles around the sun and I circle around you, today.

Today, I will love you as I loved you before. Today, I already love you as I love you. Today, I will be loving you as I will be tomorrow. Today, today.. ooh just today.


2002:05:02 18:00 Atlanta For Doc. Today.




My Daily Notes

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Meet the Finches


Today I checked back on my two bird friends who were building a nest in my backyard. They were as busy as ever. I wanted to see them closer so I got my binoculars and then looked at them for a long time. They were a beautiful sight. I happened to catch them gathering berries, so there was this male with a red breast and with a red berry in it's mouth. It was flaying around the whole backyard. The cove of trees in the four surrounding backyards seems to provide these birds a nice and cozy habitat. I wondered why can't we be like birds, they just take what is necessary from the earth, they build homes, yes a sheer variety of homes (for I once collected nests when I was in class 8, which of course is a separate story) and don't ask for anything more. The whole backyard is full of birdsong. I tried to catch a particularly high pitched singer in my lenses but the green canopy proved to be too thick.  So I was left with just the song and not the sight of the singer.

finch

Anyway I have identified my birds to be House Finches. Yay! I am an ornithologist too now!
Go take a look at  Finches at Cornell Lab of Orinthology , Georgia Finches.

They can be something else as well which is not that important. I hope they don't go extinct before I can share their beauty with my children. The next generation needs to know this beauty.Read E.O Wilson's take on this in his book Future of Life. Also I also had a germ of an idea for writing a story around these birds for 6 or 7 year olds. I will take my dig at that over summer. Oooh so many things to do in life!




My Daily Notes

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Sunday, 9. June 2002

Beware of the Body














rosebody


This body covered with matted hair, this body that smells of old sweat, this body is an instrument of dance, this body that stood like a tree in the whites of winters and greens of monsoons, this body on which lines have been craved with chisels of words, kisses, lips, tongues this body that grows taut to beautiful music, poems, certain voices and skins this body that races on pavements, this body which knows deep pain, which wears a gaunt face and tired eyes, this body which loves rivers, old railway stations, sunsets, wild flowers growing on roadsides, moon hanging on the firmament and stars. this body that is the sea that keeps crashing on the drakness of the incoming night, this body was born as an mysterious smooth egg, now its shell is craked, just a glancing touch of a stranger sends it into a hysterical pain, this body is an yellowing newspaper with news that has gone stale, this body is now a figment of you limited imagination, this body once or twice almost stood at an altar of pure nakedness and said "I do I do". Now I do I do kill it every evening and every night. Die Die Die. It waits for a needle to pierce the views, a blade to slice, dice and chop the viens, it rolls in sleep, a ship sinking in unfinished promises, a cur scavenging in these grabage dumps of dead dreams. This body knows and this body will remember you, you and you, this body was a weapon that sliced through you, this body was a tatoo that you can't ever erase, this body is the eclipse of the sun to come, this body is the growling wind of death, the invisible jail in which you will lead your small life, buy your clothes, wear your lip gloss, go to your balls, your dreams, this body is the sky that is slowly seeping through this hole into the whole world, the smell of ash, the taste of sweet plums, and the sound of hail on tin roofs you would sleep underneath all your nights. Beware Beware Beware. This body is an explosive. Beware of the body! ------------------------------------------ 2002:05:30 19:30 Atlanta




My Poems

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