Poem a Day - Poem 3

Lyrics confusing my poetry
Losing, lost
Lost
Dry snow blowing away my regret
Cold air freeze-drying aged thoughts
Groceries
Later, every day, something needs fixing
Earlier, every day, things need putting away
Things need sorting through
Things need ignoring
Things are grievously, obviousment
Misunderstood
Don't know
But
Wild turkeys are jumping for crabapples
Pay attention!

Poem a Day - Poem 2

Sweeping a room till it's empty
Editing until nothing left but
bare branches
cold, clear air
feet pounding
questioning pain
the reality of pain
confections disappoint
corrections satisfy
retreat brings anxiety
but also
appreciation

Poem a Day - Poem 1

Nineteen times I have gone down
There
To see the shining red
And drink the dust of penguins
And laugh at melting ice and
And
Feel the snow turn to
Feed lots
And eat the bread and
Feel the sawdust
Burn my sweater and
Cry tears of no laughter
And turn the tv station to
Red
and
and
Question the brown wood counter because
No one is reading this anyway
Semipublicly
Publish
Rubbish
Boy this is bad
Bad poetry
Bad listening
Lifting weights is easier in space
In the vacuum where
Blasts are unheard but scene
Changing in the middle of multiple soliloquies
Ruminating fumarates
Temperature control laugh laugh
Transcript of bullshit
Murals of boosterism
Roosterism
Listerine
Qualifying
Statements

Not loud, but dancing proud

People are continually surprised when they see me dancing at a party or event. Not only that I am dancing, but that I'm dancing bodaciously - and, I might add, quite funkily. "You're so quiet!" they say. Well, for one thing I am not all that quiet, but in the office and in more superficial social situations I don't feel a need to be shouting, telling ribald jokes, or engaging in whatever behaviour they might see as indicative of a tendency to dance.

But what does the one have to do with the other? Thinking about people I know who are loud and talkative and people I know who like to get down, I don't see any but the most incidental overlap. In many cases, it is not, in fact, the same people at all.

Some often misunderstood facts about introverts:

* Being introverted is not the same thing as being shy. It's a difference in how your brain works. (Indeed, people tend to fear introverts because they suspect that they are smarter than themselves. This is generally true.) It's been shown that when introverts engage in social interactions, they are accessing both long- and short-term memory, making all kinds of associations. Extroverts rely on short-term memory only, which makes their process zippier, if, perhaps, less profound. It's also less taxing. For this reason, introverts need more breaks to recover their energy. Parties can be somewhat exhausting. This doesn't mean that introverts don't like people. But being frequently misunderstood and steamrolled by extroverts can lead to certain aversions.

* Introverts don't necessarily lack confidence. Don't mistake our relative quietness for fear. Though we may be afraid of public speaking, just as many extroverts are, we may not. Public performance is not the same thing as the random social interactions that take so much energy to navigate. The fact that introverts can be great orators, actors, performers, interviewers, leaders, and organizers shouldn't surprise anyone, though it often does.

* Introverts might in fact be exhibitionists. They may crave being the center of attention. (Some do, some don't.) In fact, they may seek to meet their needs for validation through staged performance, since it may be harder for them to draw attention to themselves in a more unstructured situation.

* Introversion is not the same as inhibition. Because of the time-delay for reflection that the introvert brain naturally goes through in social interactions, introversion may have this effect, but it's a mistake to equate the two. Many introverts are comfortable with themselves and are not afraid to express their opinions or even engage in "zany" behavior. Perhaps because it happens less frequently than with extroverts, it can be a shock to people who think they've figured the introvert out and consider them "shy" or "reserved."

* Many people who think I'm quiet just aren't good listeners. Rather than fighting my way to express myself in conversation with them, I just give up and draw them out (or nod along if they need no drawing out), which seems to be what they want. They don't learn that I have a sense of humor and a lot to say because they have not bothered to find out.

* If you don't think I'm funny, I probably don't think you're funny, either.

Given all of the above, dancing at a party is often a lot easier than talking, and more fun.

Global warming links a plenty

To arm yourself for arguments with uncles and dads this Hanukkah/Christmas season.

http://illconsidered.blogspot.com/

Be strong!

Love in a mass extinction

Ah, the sweet slow death of climate change. I enjoyed a leisurely six-mile bike ride today, in the scant hours of sunlight available so close to the winter solstice. It felt like early May, or late September. That is, it felt good, but it felt all wrong. I love to bike, but I'm not one of those hardy, all-weather-biking souls. As soon as the air gets nippy, I hang up my bike for the season. But I've been taking it out fairly often this "winter." It's a bad sign. A highly enjoyable symptom of impending doom.

There were five swans on the pond. (Lower Millpond is its name on the map, though I've never known anyone to call it by any particular name. Yes, "Millpond," one word.) There should be seven swans, but the babies are in fact nearly full-grown. A couple of them could have gone off already, or may simply have been swimming elsewhere. I am not sure, but I think the mom and dad lost one early this year, when they were still little. I had thought I'd counted six cygnets, but then there were just five. Last year, their nest got flooded early on, so they had none. The pair didn't hang around after that - I'm not sure where they went that season. The year before that, they had six young, all of which grew to adulthood and presumably now have their own mates on their own ponds.

I've also noticed some smaller white birds floating around and perching on posts of an old pedestrian bridge that used to cross the pond. (I've heard that this bridge is going to be rebuilt. That'll be very cool, and might almost balance the coming demise of Tasty Top.) I think they may be seagulls, but that seems strange to me. I've never seen them before this week. They're bit small for gulls, and quiet for gulls as well. They aren't ducks, as far as I can make out. Maybe they're some southern bird, migrating north to escape the unseasonable heat.

Continuing the bird theme, it so happens my partner and I watched "The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill" this morning. (We are celebrating our vacation by decadently watching videos in the mornings.) I'm so glad that Mark Bittman, the man who builds his life around the parrots, finds love. So much of the film seemed to be about needing that friend or mate who will groom your pin feathers for you. Paralleling the story of an unmated parrot that was in his care for a time, Mark Bittman explains to the filmmaker that he decided long ago not to cut his pony tail until he found a girlfriend. By the length of his ponytail the viewer can measure the heart-rending duration of his loneliness. At the film's end, the pony tail comes off. He and the filmmaker have, as she says, "become a pair." And that painful pin feather can at last be removed.

We will be in San Francisco later this week, and we'll look for the parrots.

Local flavor

Still wondering how anyone would stumble on this blog - why and how? Right now I am revelling in my anonymity, but someday, I may want attention. Of course. Why else write online?

Pssst! Beulah is not my real name.

You may notice from my profile that I live in Western Mass. Western Mass rules! Why? Oh, many reasons. I'm feeling lazy, so perhaps an outline of western Massachusetts' virtues will organically unfold over time in this blog. Perhaps you would consider moving here. There's room for a few more. In fact, I need to check, but we may even be losing population slightly.

If you do move here, though, please don't buy one of those hideous, vinyl-sided new houses that are springing up on what was once gorgeous farmland. They are a knife twisting in the gut anew every time I see a crop of them, which is every day, since there are several new developments near where I live. Did I mention we're losing population? How does this equate to new houses? Someone explain this, and in the meantime, stop building them. There are many nice old houses to choose from. It's part of our local charm.

You may want to start a business. But first, please do a little research to see if your business is wanted. I know this is going to hurt, but in my town we don't need any more shops with scented candles and teddy bears saying "I wuv you." We also have plenty of pizza joints. If you are thinking of starting a Chinese restaurant, please realize we have three of them, ranging from inedible to disappointing. Unless you can offer a new twist on the concept (suggestion: delicious?), look elsewhere for inspiration.

A few years ago, someone finally heard my prayers and opened an inexpensive burrito place. But they missed an essential word: tasty. The lesson? If you are a local gringo with a passion to run a Mexican restaurant (which started as Cuban, something I never did figure out), try eating actual Mexican food a few times to get a sense of it first. Tina's frozen burritos fresh from the Dairy Mart microwave don't count.