PERSPECTIVE
An aid workers impressions as she travels the world building toilets.
Latest public adventure: to be determined.
Poems, photos and ramblings abound.


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July 26, 2010

2 to 2

Contest #2) So, not really any news cause I didn't win the contest, but they finally put up the poems for the public to see, so I thought I would provide a link here so you can check it out. None of the judges put any comments, which I was bummed about, but that is okay. This poem I had shared with a friend and my mom, neither loved it.


To A Poet Laureate

Dear Sam,
I once wrote eight page
letters to your son, quickly
placed inside the cedar shake box
punctuating
your driveway lined with alder saplings.
I pumped my bike up one, two, three
straight hills to Sawmill Corner
hoping you and Sally
never knew that it was me.

A round faced nine, ten, eleven
year old, I once bound blank
diaries during art, which you
the printer, must have taught.
Boring holes through stacked sheets with
needles, the blunt end cut my finger
making it hard to tie thin thread.
Somehow three small bundles became a single
tome, glue beaten with a wide stubby brush
into paper we must have made
from fresh pulp.

Inside, I once wrote eight line
poems, invented words in colored
pen, punctuation
revised with wild insects flying round
kerosene lamps, flashlights and blue
computer screens.
I completed only one, quickly
placed inside the cedar shake box
hoping you and Sally
might think that it was me.

July 21, 2010

Back to backsides

And so the tally stands as is. 0/3, waiting on 1/1 and not so optimistic (I aimed a little high).

Contest #5) Is not a contest, but is competitive. The goal in this is to motivate me to just see what's out there, not winning, but exploring. So cause I found something I thought was a pretty interesting idea, I thought I'd include it. Cause I can. I submitted a poem to "IsReads" an outdoor journal: "The concept of the outdoor journal is to put short poems in unusual places, like on abandoned buildings and in shopping carts."

Regarding contest #1) Helium. I find it depressing and poor today. The one reason I liked it at first was that it seemed open and democratic, but I found that to be its weakness. The content of some articles against which mine compete are just wrong. Maybe it's me not being open enough. Who knows. I will continue until I have made 25 dollars. Fine. Currently still have the two stars, which is good, but my poems fell to having only a bronze medal from silver.

* * *

And my vacation will continue.

July 18, 2010

Stateside besides

Don't let it fool you. Negativity isn't negative. 
It is simply down. It is a valley. Drainage.

* * *

California business: Threw out 15 years of bank statements and nice skirts that will never fit me. Dug out my high school writing which led to some rare, fictional fun (that's the teaser...).

California fun: Joined my dad and his cat in Big Sur. We passed Bixbey Bridge and watched sunsets from the best lookout along the coast. Wildfires 2 years past could not stop the beauty here. If not for fog, one could see 180 degrees from San Francisco to LA. (As a science geek I have to admit that the curvature of the earth may hinder more than the fog.) I climbed to Cone Peak Lookout and could see 360. If I were a lizard I could enjoy this view each day.



After two weeks, it was time to head north.  Golden rolling hills become cooler and greener. Fewer grasses, more bushes and trees. The ones I remember picking... ferns, mustard, thimble berries, salal, douglas fir. The hills become steeper up, the bays become wider across, the sky becomes gray. Today I arrived in Washington. When Luis and Clark arrived here in 1805, it was overcast too and December (not July). They too could not see across the Columbia in this dank drizzle that defines the Pacific Northwest. Ah.

* * *

I must have written this around 1992 as a high school creative writing assignment. It is a fable and it made me laugh.

The Lions

Far, far away there was a huge forest that was ruled by a great, beautiful, old lion. He had a great golden mane and a beautiful roar that filled the forest like the wind when he spoke. He was charismatic as any leader of the free world, yet he had little wisdom. But being a good lion at heart, not hungry for power, he left the general ruling of the forest to his Royal Council of Owls. 

One day the old lion fell extremely ill. His mane looked dull and his voice was soft. Seeing this the Royal Council of Owls decided to send word throughout the forest to summon all of the old King's many sons. (For in his more vivacious years head been quite the ladies lion fathering many children.)

The first of his sons to arrive had the greatest, most golden mane any lion had ever seen. When the sun fell upon it, golden reflections scattered about. As he reached the entrance to the Royal Lair, the guard dogs stared at his great, golden mane and bowed their heads as he walked through the door.

The Owls complemented his mane, and asked him a riddle:
"What is beautiful, but not conceited?"
"What is wise, but not arrogant?"
"What is compassionate, but not lenient?"
The young lion shook his mane, almost blinding the night-loving owls.
"His current King, His majesty." He said, trying to gain points.

The second son to arrive could roar so beautifully that when he sang, every animal sopped what he was doing to listen. When he reached the entrance to the Lair, he roared loudly as if to prove his relation to the dying King. The guards lowered their heads as he passed.

When he was asked the same riddle, he cleared his throat showing off the strength of his voice.  But his response was the same, he too trying to gain popularity with the owls.

When the last son arrived, the guards barely noticed him. He was handsome, with a sweet voice, but he did not flaunt his royal lines. The owls were tired of the parade of lions, but asked him the riddle:
"What is beautiful, but not conceited?"
"What is wise, but not arrogant?"
"What is compassionate, but not lenient?"
"That is what I wish to be," the last son answered quickly.

The last son was crowned King by his dying father and they all lived happily ever after in a well-run forest. Except the old King of course, who was dying and did not live very long. The first son found happiness as a successful model and the second son launched a singing career.