This is a young cedar tree in front of Sunnahae Mountain.
[daily log: walking, 4km]
Month: April 2019
Caveat: Poem #1003 “As children will do”
The children argued and spun through the corridors. Outside the sun shone.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #117
A tree at the boundary between day and night. Seen out the window, because I had a busy day and took no long walk.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Sub Sub
I went to work today.
It was the first time since I quit working at Karma last July that I’ve gone to work, or gone into a classroom.
The kindergarten teacher at Craig Elementary was sick. And it seemed like the normal person who does substitute teaching was also sick. She came and gave a bit of orientation, the first hour or so, and then left. And there was a teacher’s aide, who was essentially promoted to be the main teacher, and more or less knew what was going on. And I was the temporary teacher’s aide, along with some other helpers.
Spending 6 hours with kindergarteners is quite a bit of work. And I didn’t really know my way around the school – so it was orientation by fire. Typical in Korea, perhaps less typical in the US, but this is a small town, a small district… so I had actually somewhat assumed this is how it would go.
It was fun. I hope I made a good impression. Actually I feel confident I did fine with the kids – but they’re not the constituency I need to impress, rather, the other teachers. We shall see. I did manage at least to have learned the kids’ names by the end of the day. I felt positive about that. And I solved a three way power struggle between three girls who were fighting over a doll. I think the other teacher was somewhat surprised at my success, there – she had shrugged and said it seemed to be an unsolvable situation and was just intent on keeping them separate.
Caveat: Poem #1002 “Only three words that summarize this activity”
omphaloskeptic autobiographical communication
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #116
This tree is seen up close and personal.
[daily log: walking, 4km]
Caveat: Poem #1001 “Duck!”
dots on the water ducks floating in formation and diving for snacks
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #115
A tree seen at 10 mile hill.
I saw a bald eagle directly above me, circling.
[daily log: walking, 6km]
Caveat: Poem #1000 “A sonnet memorializing itself”
A part of every day just writing: The sky is gray and raindrops hang; How is a life like this exciting? Oh wait, a bird unseen just sang. Unfinished tasks remain regretted; So forests' moods persist, abetted. And still a thought will come along: No fish will come; no time is wrong. Despairing then, perhaps I wondered... Preparing rows of trees or words On paper or on wings of birds- Exactly ten times, by a hundred - Momentous thoughts and aimless streams Suspend what's real. Behold the dreams.
– a sonnet in iambic pentameter.
Caveat: Tree #114
I took a walk straight up the hillside (rather than along the road one way or the other). One walks much less distance – I prefer to call it “tromping” rather than walking. But it’s exhausting – pushing through undergrowth, climbing over giant fallen logs, squanching through muskeg and streams. Here’s a tree I saw.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: your legacy, written in blood and dead magic
What I’m listening to right now.
Xiuhtezcatl, “Magic”
Lyrics.
ISA: Magic and song and the sound of a drum From the sea to the sky to the land Feel the sun on my skin I'm at one with the wind Elements in the palm of my hand (x2) Xiuhtezcatl: I feel this change, where has the magic gone I feel it less and less with each breath I draw No longer taste it in the water, or hear it in the wind It's fading like the music as the record stops spinning It's no longer in your eyes, hoping it's only in disguise Replaced by hunger for everything I despise Tipping the scales, we losing balance, we moving mountains Drillin the shale we're choosing profit we soak the canvas Taste the poison whenever the wind blows Wage war people suffering while we kill the planet I lost my innocence sooner than most Watching our world die something I couldn't control And I couldn't have known, that I'd never turn back Now what I carry is something that no one could understand My generation's losing sight of the magic I feel Plagued by insecurities, slit wrists, bottles of pills Forgot the beauty of life, tell yourselves you'd rather die Then use every time you fell as a step towards the sky I took all of my tears, I took all of my pain Turned it into poetry and lyrics that gave me my name With Every battle I fight And every song that I write Every time my ego collides with the passion inside Every star on the canvas every word every line Is in hope to restore magic I can no longer find ISA: Magic and song and the sound of a drum From the sea to the sky to the land Feel the sun on my skin I'm at one with the wind Elements in the palm of my hand (x2) TRU: It's all in the trees All in the wind Reaching the seas Washing my sins away Change within I feel I know myself But now these days are strange and nights are cold And people afraid to move forward Deliver the truth in your word When you grab the moment Grab the mic, they all gon' listen, homie Seeing the vision Slowly with consistence things prevail A Shovel and pail, I'm digging a well If you couldn't tell, I'm talking for real I know you feel, that's never a fail Only the pen You just need the peace It's all in-your G Just focus your Chi If we can just focus then we can control it Don't come from the lotus than I won't condone it Magic is secret, and mine's on the lowest My keys are sacred so I cannot show ‘em I'm growin' I'm glowin' I'm all the way (all the way) Up in the atmosphere far away (far away) Land that I walk on a part of me Master had once ripped my ancestor's hearts away So I love properly Magic in the motherland, I been havin' fun with then Elevating with my friends: Legacy I just hope that all these pages make it through the phases All these changes coming got me going crazy (crazy) Got to hold on to my magic that's what made me (x2) Can't you see that this is magic in the making Got to hold on to my magic that's what made me ISA: Magic and song and the sound of a drum From the sea to the sky to the land Feel the sun on my skin I'm at one with the wind Elements in the palm of my hand (x2) Xiuhtezcatl: This is your legacy, written in blood and dead magic You want it all, but you know that you can't have it All that you have was stolen from someone else From a future generation that's inheriting hell This is your legacy, written in tears and lost magic In pursuit of knowledge we've lost understanding You see great cities I see empires falling Our hearts encased in glass caskets of concrete We build machines that explore what the stars mean But nothing digital will ever match a heartbeat We take it back Repair a broken legacy Return this magic determine our own destiny
Caveat: Poem #999 “As deeds will do”
That maze of highways wound around points, demarcating geographies and perpetuating myths with a singular goal which is foreordained: to indicate where our deeds become words.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #113
Here is a tree I saw by the airport when I went to pick up Arthur on his return from Juneau.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Fun Trivia Fact
Here’s a surprising trivia fact I learned today:
My uncle Arthur still has a pilot’s license. Apparently this was considered somewhat disturbing by his GP in Juneau whom he saw this morning. Arthur’s justification is that a pilot’s license is meaningless if a doctor doesn’t sign off on the annual physical exam. Which is a valid point – no doctor would do that, given his incident from last summer. But it does seem odd. The State of Alaska never moved to suspend his driving privileges, either. So it’s just that the bureaucracy isn’t paying attention, I suppose. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Caveat: Poem #998 “Lost time”
Bits of time slip past unused and unusable: snow on the still beach
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #112
A tree.
[daily log: walking, 1km]
Caveat: Holding the fort against late-season snows
I’m left holding the fort against late-season snow, while Arthur flies up to Juneau to see doctors. Being here alone is a strange sensation.
Here is dawn as seen from the deck.
Caveat: Poem #997 “A new topic”
some snow on branches gives the birds their new topic spring comes, stuttering
– a pseudo-haiku
Caveat: Tree #111
This tree has perhaps been featured before, but not from this angle.
[daily log: walking, 5km]
Caveat: Poem #996 “Treeharmony”
birds announce intentions in coded ways that might just reveal eligibility for springtime relationships with other birds known and unknown who might be lurking in nearby trees.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #110
Behold the bottom half of a tree, up the hillside.
[daily log: walking, 1km; tromping, 500m]
Caveat: Poem #995 “Categorical imperative”
the rain's broad, pattering sounds reverberate, and wind blinds the trees, hiding their deep wounds with grasping earth at roots' ends.
– some kind of englyn, but I can’t figure out which.
Caveat: Tree #109
This tree was given the death penalty for fraternizing with a utility pole. These things are unforgivable.
[daily log: walking, 1km]
Caveat: So glad I’m not in school
I like this song, sorta, but mostly I like the video. It’s cute and well-done and matches the song well.
What I’m listening to right now.
Nizlopi, “JCB Song.”
Lyrics.
Well, I'm rumblin' in this JCB I'm 5 years old and my dad's giant sitting beside me And the engine rattles my bum like berserk While we're singin, "Don't forget your shovel if you want to go to work!" My dad's totally had a bloody hard day But he's been good fun and bubblin and jokin' away And the procession of cars stuck behind Are gettin all impatient and angry, but we dont mind An' we're holdin up the bypass Oh Me and my dad havin a top laugh Oh woah Sittin on the toolbox Oh And I'm so glad I'm not in school, boss So glad I'm not in school Oh no... And we pull over to let the cars pass And pull off again, speedin by the summer green grass And we're like giants up here in our big yellow digger Like zoids, or transformers, or maybe even bigger And I wanna transform into a Tyrannosaurus Rex! And eat up all the bullies and the teachers and their pets And I'll tell em I'm 8, my dad's ba barakas Only with a JCB and Bruce Lee's nunchuckas And we're holdin up the bypass Oh Me and my dad havin' a top laugh Oh woah Sittin' on the toolbox Oh And I'm so glad I'm not in school, boss So glad I'm not in school And we're holdin' up the bypass Oh oh Me and my dad havin' a top laugh Oh woah I'm sittin on the toolbox Oh oh And I'm so glad I'm not in school box So glad I'm not in school - Said I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB. I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB. I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB. I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round And we're holdin' up the bypass Woah Me and my dad havin' a top laugh Oh woah And I'm sittin' on the toolbox Oh And I'm so glad I'm not in school box So glad I'm not in school Aw, said I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB. I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his Aw, I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB. I'm Luke, I'm five, and my dad's Bruce Lee. Drives me round in his JCB.
Caveat: Poem #994 “Revelation”
another haiku: about rain, about trees - words revealing the world
– a pseudo-haiku
Caveat: Tree #108
Another tree.
[daily log: walking, 4km]
Caveat: Poem #993 “A draft of an impossibility”
ㅁ in lines of glass or wood or concrete horizons drawn in golds and blacks a grid, a geographic spreadsheet dead trees on hills like painted cracks the cityscape reveals confusion amid its planless, hot profusion of means of movement, high and low of will to commerce, fast and slow the hearts of people all inventing a way to make their neighbors slaves or if not that, then find their graves and likewise... stepwise... too preventing our nature's hoped-for forceful claim against our blind hubristic shame
– a sonnet in a defective iambic tetrameter.
Caveat: Tree #107
A youngish tree on an oldish cliff.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km]
Caveat: Poem #992 “The sun’s gradual displacement”
ㅁ The equinox past, the light lingers, delinquent. Soon: summer's solstice.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #106
After Arthur and I drove into town for our Thursday shopping excitement, it was pouring rain and even sleet. So I have selected a tree from the archive.
[daily log: walking, 1km]
Caveat: 배치기
I had forgotten about this song. But it came around on a random play on my music player.
I blogged it a few years ago (um, 7?). However, the video there has disappeared – “link rot.” I couldn’t find an official version, but here’s a performance of the song from the Korean TV show “쇼미더머니” which is a musical competition for amateurs where they perform famous musical bits. I decided to do a rare “re-posting” of some music rather than go back and repair the old blog entry.
배치기, “콩깍지.”
가사.
B.A.E.C.H.I.G.I 이제 나왔으니
모두 친구들에게 전하기
하던 일들 전부 stop 모두 집중 여기 spot
들어볼까 기묘한 그 이야기
뭉탁!
탁>
그 꼬라지로 나와 너네가 얼마나 버티겠냐고
그냥 하던 대로 가라고
가만히 서서 중간이라도 가는 게
두말하면 입 아프다라고 말하는데
배치기 배엔 기름이 꼈네
믿음 따윈 져버리고 지네끼리 건배
그리고 나선 도망가네 조만간에 절망감이란
포만감으로 휩싸여야 정신 차리겠네
무웅>
어떤 인간들은 내게 말하겠지
너 얼마나 잘되나 두고 보자고
완전히 Reset 된 배치기
이제 누가 아냐고 물어보라고
그나마 누렸던 인기의 맛만
본걸로 만족해 알잖아 만만
치 않은 이곳에 이미 한물간
니들이 발 붙일 곳 없을 거라고
무웅>
이거 정말 난리나 버렸지
아무런 생각 없이 전부 내쳐 버렸지
모든 게 다 뒤바뀌어 버렸지
배치기 인생살이 제 눈에 낀 콩깍지
무웅>
뜻대로 되지만은 않을 거다
그러다가 망한 애들 여럿 봤다
새로운 변화에 신이 났겠지만
장담하건대 넌 예전이 낫다
제풀에 꺽일 네 모습이 선해
반전은 기대마 알잖아 뻔해
더 신 나게 떠들어라 웃고는 있지만
초조함 숨기려 내 맘은 탄다
탁>
겁을 먹었냐고 천만의 말씀
거품 빼고 우리만의 길을 가고픈 것뿐
당차게 박차고 나와서
난 바로 이 네 박자에 몸을 실었음
내 길에 내기를 걸어봐라
내 미래엔 배짱부리며 배 내미네 째봐라 그래
내가 쓰러지나 봐라 부러지나 봐라
날이 지나 봐라 끝내 누가 남았나
이거 정말 난리나 버렸지
아무런 생각 없이 전부 내쳐 버렸지
모든 게 다 뒤바뀌어 버렸지
배치기 인생살이 제 눈에 낀 콩깍지
B.A.E.C.H.I.G.I 이제 나왔으니
모두 친구들에게 전하기
하던 일들 전부 stop 모두 집중 여기 spot
들어볼까 기묘한 그 이야기
탁>
서로 머리 맞대면서 많은 날을 고민했지
배부르면 봄날이냐고
까놓고 말해보자 우리들의 전성기는
언제부터 언제였냐고
몇 번의 박수로 우쭐거리며
살아나간 지난날의 우릴 반성하자고
죽이 되든 밥이 되든 피래미 시절
기억하며 아둥바둥 살아보자고
이거 정말 난리나 버렸지
아무런 생각 없이 전부 내쳐 버렸지
모든 게 다 뒤바뀌어 버렸지
배치기 인생살이 제 눈에 낀 콩깍지 예
B.A.E.C.H.I.G.I
B.A.E.C.H.I.G.I 예
Caveat: Poem #991 “Eschatology”
ㅁ the future arrives each day as if coming home while the past decamps
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #105
This is your daily tree. It is hiding among the other trees, hoping not to be noticed.
[daily log: walking, 1km]