What Olding Means

Olding means the recollection of skills you’ve lost

And revelling in a lifetime’s practised accomplishment in one, or a few

Olding means counting your age by the number of injuries you’ve collected that don’t heal

You can measure your age by your patience

–The things that no longer set you off

You can feel your age by the ease sound judgements bring

You know your age by moderation,

–Having overcome impulse and craving

Olding age has seen a lot, and undersdtands, bears, and tolerates

Olding age lived well is wise

I hope young people will look forward to olding

–All the while enjoying their journey

And that olding people settle in happily to their age-right

As I did and do

The Applicability of Experience

From science, I learned to sift through irrelevant information and find the essential fact.

This has helped me chair meetings.

From lectures in school, I learned to listen well.

This has helped me minister to my neighbour.

From writing term papers, I learned to express complex ideas simply.

This has helped me to talk.

From reading poetry, I learned to capture volumes in sentences.

This has helped me to write.

From adversity, I learned perseverance.

This has brought me accomplishments.

From broken dreams, I learned to bear pain.

This has taught me to love.

How A Poet Says Goodbye

WORDS AS FOCI FOR ART

Words can be music if spoken

Sonorous sentiment

Words, the substance of

Lexicons, dictionaries, etymologies

Meaning

Words are rigorously attached to their definitions

Meanings, less so

Words can trace back into a vacant etymology

Meaning detach from word

Attachments, words

Weak modes of connection

Breaking under the strain they must carry

Silence

Time together spent silent

Conjoining time

Left to language

Lexicons, dictionaries, etymologies

Definitions, music, meaning

Words

The substance of drama

Scripted language

The extended moment together

Sharing a single script together

Comedy or tragedy

Ribaldry, betrayal

The curtain comes down

Bringing the play to its quietus

Each returns to private discourse

Departing from the play

Fiction for fact

What was made

Left lifeless

The text closed.

And Goodbye

And goodbye; we celebrate the parting,

And togetherness–aye both we share–

And bitterness: the herald of our starting

Life again, again–you here, I there.

 

It seems forever when the gulf looms before us

And years together collapse upon themselves into

Seconds of bitter meaning:

It’s always goodbye.

Places and Friendships and Goodbyes

I’m a long way from home

And those customs I’ve outgrown.

Each new direction’s pointed toward success

In this foundationless infinite regress.

 

Here alone, I’m feeling

How many times

I’ve said goodbye

To those I’ve loved, the places I’ve known.

 

Guess I’ve done what I had to

Or what seemed to be good moves–

The kind of thing I should be glad to do

But for all those good times and broken loves.

 

How long can I survive

Moving around

Wanting a home

A long-time friend, someone to trust.

When Art Tries to Be Art

When art tries to be art it fails and offends.  Novels should be a good story, film should be good drama, music should be rhythmic and melodious, poetry should be the marriage of sound and sense, paintings should be about space, figure, and form, and beauty is important, as is passion in all this.

I saw a movie that began with a woman walking in a graveyard, in the autumn.  “Here we go,” I thought.  Where could the movie go from there?  As the story progressed, it kept cutting back to the woman walking in the graveyard.  Something about death intruding into a quite ordinary story.  Then there are films with odd camera angles.  An odd camera angle that adds to the dramatic tension works.  But there are too many films that show odd angles for their own sake, under the mistaken assumption that those camera angles make a mediocre movie into art.

I’ve heard musicians who add performance art into their songs, so that they will be artistic.  I saw a singer wrap herself in a blanket with an image of the whole world on it, as she bowed.  I wasn’t sure of her point, but I was sure she was trying to be artistic.

I’ve read poets who use precious words, poetic words, so that they would be making poetry.  One such word is gossamer.

I saw an artwork that was a spiral cut of paper with great works of art reproduced on it.  Something about art being about art.

A good story will be art.  A good poem doesn’t need poetic words to be art.  A riveting movie will be art.  A song that touches the soul and bespeaks humanity’s pain, joy, and passion will be art.  A painting you can’t take your eyes off will be art.  Art doesn’t need to try to be art.

Why I’m Glad I’m Sober

I’ve seen both sides.  I lived a long time drunk or high every day.  And when I wasn’t high I was thinking about getting high.  Here’s the things I did when I was a drunk:

  • get mad so I needed a drink
  • get drunk

Now I live a clean and sober life.  Here’s the things I do, now that I am sober:

  • write music
  • record original music and play with other musicians
  • form healthy relationships
  • play card games with friends
  • volunteer in interfaith functions
  • sit on a faculty committee
  • teach classes at church
  • organize lecture series
  • feel my emotions
  • read philosophy, poetry, and fiction
  • go out on dates without drinking
  • listen to live music and hear it and enjoy it
  • write poetry
  • buy art with the money I don’t spend on drugs
  • enjoy life
  • laugh and cry

There are still struggles in life and hard days.  But, as a musician friend of mine said about the process of recording my original music, “enjoy the process.”

Well-Rounded and Alienation

In the renaissance period, the character ideal was to be well-rounded.  The various character virtues a courtier was supposed to acquire were listed in Castigione’s “Book of the Courtier.”  Among them were knowledge of the classical languages, aesthetic appreciation, musical proficiency, literary knowledge and practice, poetic ability, historical knowledge, philosophical knowledge and reasoning ability, wit and good manners, wrestling.  In general, the liberal arts.  Plato had another similar list of virtues in his “The Republic,” and Aristotle, also, in “The Nicomachean Ethics.”

Today, it is hard to figure out what character virtues western society values.  Society has become so fragmented that it is impossible to discern what the twenty-first century person is to aspire to.  Consequently, people tend to stay within the prescriptions of their career and family.  Emerson decried this form of society.  He said, “The priest becomes a form; the attorney, a statute book; the mechanic, a machine; the sailor, a rope of a ship” (The American Scholar).

I have tried to widen my horizons by becoming more of a renaissance man, a more well-rounded individual than someone defined by his profession, geographical region, and family relations.  But I have found that by being well-rounded, I am rather alienated and that I don’t really fit in anywhere.  In a bar, I sound too intellectual and like I’m putting on airs; in a university, I sound too raw and unrefined; in a church, too worldly and in my denomination, too interfaith oriented; in secular society, too spiritual; among intellectuals, too uninhibited; among scientists, too literary, etc . . . I like the character I have developed in my pilgrimage on this planet.  My soul is rich from having lived a variety of lives–academic, spiritual, philosophical, construction worker, poet, minister, lover and friend, scientist.  But for all this, I am not a dilettante.  I have a strong enough background in a discipline which I practice.  But I am not only my discipline.  I am not a form, a statute book, a machine, a rope, a test-tube, a hammer, a library.  I am a man.  A happy man.  A man with wide horizons.  I do not mind that I don’t really fit into a narrow social box.  When I was growing up I was taught to do your own thing.  I have done that, continue to do that, and my world is many worlds.

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