A Poet I Just Discovered

Greetings All:

The photo above (public domain usage claimed) is of a poet I just learned of- Octavio Paz.  As I have mentioned before, I appreciate my local public library.  One day I was in there picking up some books I had requested and I swung by the new arrivals.  One was The Poems of Octavio Paz as edited and translated by Eliot Wienberger.  I regret that despite four years of exposure to a liberal arts education at a great public university (The University of Iowa, Go Hawks!) I regret that I did not (ahem) spend a ton of time reading and a whole lot more in...other pursuits.  (If I could have double-majored in student government and fraternity I would have been Summa cum laude, alas, such is life.)  As a result, I find myself looking for opportunities to read the stuff I should have checked out years ago.  Oh well, better late than never.

I had never heard of Octavio Paz.  However, I thought anyone who could get a book of almost 600 pages of edited work had to be worth checking out.  It was.

First, a bit about Mr. Paz.  He is acknowledged as a great poet of Mexico and the world.  He was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1990.  Here is the link to his acceptance speech:

http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1990/paz-lecture.html

I just read it, albeit briefly, and was impressed with both its humility and frankness.  Here's a taste:  "Ours is the time of profane history, an irreversible and perpetually unfinished time that marches towards the future and not towards its end."

If you think he was not exactly a conservative, you'd be right.  In fact, he would likely be considered a leftist.  Born in Mexico in 1914 to a family active in journalism and politics, he gravitated to the Republicans in the Spanish Civil War.  He had an early (and likely comfortable) career in diplomacy, but resigned to protest the Mexican government's harsh repression of a student protest in 1968.  I am not going to delve much into his politics but feel I should offer this as a starting point to understand the man.  If you would like to learn more, here is a link to his bio:

http://home.wlu.edu/~barnettj/Holding/99/cstovall/newpaz.htm

As to his writing, I think it is terrific.  I suspect it reads and almost certainly sounds better in Spanish, but the English translation is great as well.  Here are a just a couple of lines that offer a glimpse into his work:

From his poem Salamandra or in English, Salamander:

"Is not beauty enough?
 I know nothing
I know what is too much
not what is enough
Ignorance is a difficult as beauty..."

(Source- from page 201 of Weinberger's book) 

Here are a couple of more lines from the same poem (p. 199, Weinberger):

"Twenty years ago Vasconcelos told me
'Devote yourself to phliosophy
It won't give you life
but it is a defense against death."

Or how about this line-

"I do not write to kill time
nor to revive it
I write that I may live and be revived."

This poem was from earlier in his career during the years 1956-1961.  The Cold War was in full swing, revolutions took place, some crushed, some successful, hope and fear stood on the same street corner of history, awaiting which bus society would pull up for each, perhaps both, to board.  Later in his life, he still wrote with passion, but perhaps aided by age and perspective, he took on a different tone.  Here is the concluding lines to Arbol Adentro or in English, A Tree Within:

"Perhaps to love is to learn
to walk through this world.
To learn to be silent
like the oak and the linden of the fable.
To learn to see.
Your glance scatters seed.
It planted a tree.
I talk
because you shake its leaves."

I am no literary poet and I make no claims to be an expert on Mr. Paz's work.  (After all, I just learned of the guy and was on vacation for a week.)  These are just my thoughts on a writer who (I think) has something to say.  I suppose I could throw out the standard line, "Oh, how I wish I had discovered him sooner..." but that would not be true.  If anything, what little maturity I have obtained since college may make his discovery more valuable now.  After all, you can buy a toddler a ten-speed bike, but all he can do with it is spin the wheels until he grows into it.  In any event, I like the guy's work and I hope you will too if you read his work. 

 I would like to close with one of the earlier lines of his Nobel address, as I believe it goes to the core of his writing:  "Grace means pardon, forgiveness, favour, benefice, inspiration; it is a form of address, a pleasing style of speaking or painting, a gesture expressing politeness, and, in short, an act that reveals spiritual goodness." (see previous citation please).  For a man who had definite, perhaps unforgiving political stances, who talked truth to power, he also had a side of gratitude.  As I read Paz I will not forget the source of his writing, his surroundings and his criticisms of the world, but also his ability to value gratitude.  I hope to read more of his works for anyone who can write like him and draw from such diverse inspirations is worth experiencing.

I am curious as to what you are reading or listening to, music, checking out online from an artistic standpoint.  As I mentioned, I am making up for lost time.  Please add a comment to this post and feel free to share it, thanks.  Have a great rest of the week and summer!

Best,
Jeno

Ben Franklin's App

Greetings All:

We recently celebrated the 4th of July, a day known as our nation's birthday and for many a (this year) four-day holiday.  It is a time to attend a parade, watch fireworks, get together with friends and family and celebrate our nation's independence.  I also think it is worth recalling that Ben Franklin not only signed the Declaration of Independence but also lended counsel to the author, Thomas Jefferson.  Franklin's mark on early American was as deep as it was wide.  He was an inventor, a civic leader, an academic, a diplomat, a radical, and perhaps above all else, a writer.  His wit was sharp and to this day, his quotes are readily stated.  I have seen (and used) this one recently:

"They who would give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety."

However, for the purpose of this blog post, I wish to focus on the following Franklin quote:

"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing."

 

http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/b/benjamin_franklin.html 

I would argue Franklin did both.  His accomplishments are many and his writings are worth learning and sharing.  He never commanded troops in battle and was mocked in London.  Yet they LOVED him in Paris, especially the "les belle dames."  Nicely done, Ben.

Keep in mind please that he did all this without a smart phone, lap top, computer, typewriter or even a ballpoint pen.  He did it with a quill pen and ink on parchment, that's it, that was his app.  I have no doubt that he would love what Bill Gates and Steve Jobs came up with.  And yet, they never saw it, never hit "send" or downloaded "Words With Friends" or any of the other thousands of apps out there.  He had one- his brain.  Guess what?  So do we.

I am not saying that I or anyone else is on the same league with Franklin, of course not.  He was truly one of a kind.  Then again, so are you,...and me.  

I mention this for I am beginning a project that I am going to be rolling out on this blog about an idea I have for goal-setting.  As an introduction, I take my inspiration from Mr. Ben and how he used the 18th Century app, a pen.  

It worked for him and I bet it can work for us too.

Until next time, be well my friends.

Best,

Jeno

The picture above is courtesy of the web and is listed as part of the public domain.

An Ode to Vacation

Greetings All:

As I mentioned in my last post, I have been away from the blog for a while.  The last couple of posts were poems I wrote, so it has been a while since I offered up any commentary.  I suppose part of this absence was due to a lack of motivation (there is always time to do what you really want to do so I will not offer that lame excuse).  For me, part of writing is finding something that I think is worth writing about that I think/hope may be of interest to others.  I hope this topic is one that you ALL  with relate to and like...VACATION!!

I just got back from San Diego.  It was awesome.  Along with another family, we spent a glorious week there in a rented house that was very, very nice.  Now to be to completely candid, it was not perfect.  There were times when I looked at the house from the deck and in seeing the chipped paint on the windows and the railings caused me to think of the last days of Adi Amin in exile.  Still, it was a great place.

San Diego has a lot going for it.  For openers, there is this thing called...an ocean.  For those of us who have grown up and/or have spent time in the Midwest, oceans are not exactly close.  Some of us have spent some time in a place with plenty of sand, but not much (or none) surf.  This place has both. 

Of course, the water is not exactly like the Caribbean Sea.  In fact, it is damn cold.  At one point during one of our outings to the ocean, I felt like I was going through SEAL training.  Of course, my youngest daughter was thrilled to be in the water and would have stayed all day.  Still, once you're in the water, you might as well enjoy it.  After all, back home there is no water.

San Diego also has a vast number of attractions.  The Zoo is without question, a great place to spend the day.  The fact that it is only one of only four zoos in the U.S. with Pandas.  We got to see them for about a minute and it might (sadly) be a once in a lifetime experience. 

So notwithstanding that you spend a day traveling both ways, it was a great, great trip.  Vacation was wonderful.  I did not think about work and whatever awaits tomorrow in the inbox, well, it's not milk, it did not, nor will not go bad.  Of course, coming back involves grass needing to be cut, clothes to be washed and the various other things that come with being gone for a week.  It is so worth it.

My point with this blog entry is the following:  Take vacations!  Of course, do not max out a credit card on a trip you cannot afford.  At the same time, remember that cemeteries are full of irreplaceable people.  There is always something that may seem urgent but is not that important.  With a bit of planning, you can not only pay for the trip in advance but also let your co-workers and boss know that you are going and will be back in a week, or two.

This is an ode to vacation.  I am glad I went.

All the best,
Jeno

A 4th of July Poem

Greetings All:

I hope the summer is treating you well.  I've been away from the blog for now three weeks and I plan to get back to it on a more regular basis.  In the meantime, here is a poem I wrote this morning.  Happy 4th of July everyone!

Greetings All:

I've been away from the blog for now three weeks and like to think I have a fairly good excuse.  Come this weekend, I plan to get back to it regularly.  In the meantime, here's a poem for the 4th of July.  Happy birthday America!

The Pen Trumped the Crown


One July years in our past;
When some doubted our cause would last;
Jefferson put down with ink;
Words that caused the world to think.

To think that freedom was worth the fight;
To risk the wrath of King George's might;
To march into walls of screaming lead;
Stepping forward past the wounded and dead.

So what again was this fight about?
What caused Patrick Henry to shout?
Was it just about paying a tax?
Or had they been pushed to to the max?
Tired of being told how to live;
Of rights the King would not give.
So on this day they said, "No more!"
We're done waiting for fairness to reach this shore.
We will not ask for our rights.
We may lose, but we'll fight.

And fight they did for many years;
Through mud and loss and death and tears.
Yet there was no quit, the resolve was strong;
And showed the world we did belong.

To this world as a nation free;
Where only ambition limits what one can be;
As a place where a person can pray;
Without fear of being dragged away.
Where the majority rules, but not as an enraged mob;
Where the poorest has the same rights as a Steve Jobs.

We are not perfect, there is still work to do;
To make the ideas of the Declaration for all true;
But no nation has moved so far, so fast;
To achieve freedom and make it last.

So on this day, let the fireworks fly;
Alighting bright the night sky;
Turn on the grill and fly your flag;
Watch the kids play while grandparents point and brag;
Go to the parade and have fun;
Just take a moment to recall how it all begun.

When a group of patriots did declare;
They would be free and did not care;
What the cost, what the price;
Knowing only full commitment would suffice.
In the end, they carried the day;
Freedom was won, the Redcoats sailed away.

Happy birthday America, enjoy this day!
But let's also pledge to not let our Founders' down;
Keeping the pledge that it true-the pen is mightier than the crown!

Be well my friends (and safe this holiday weekend!)

Jeno

An Army Born

Greetings All:

Although I have a couple of posts in the hopper (the draft folder I am learning is becoming like the junk drawer in the kitchen, things get put in it here that I just know I will want to use again but am not sure when.)  In any event, I do have a couple of things lined up and will get them out sooner or later.

I hope summer is treating you well and it is (finally) starting to dry out in Iowa.  Summer officially starts in about a week yet we saw the first fire fly (lightning bug) a couple of nights back, so as far as I am concerned, summer is here.

On a more serious note, today is both Flag Day and the birthday of the U.S. Army.  As I mentioned on my Facebook wall, the Army is an institution that I do love.  And yet, like anything that matters, it is complex, complicated.  It is not a person.  However, it is made up of people, run by people, admired by some people (many people) and cursed by others (perhaps more than I want to admit).  In any event, those are comments for another day.  For now, here is a poem I wrote.  I fully recognize that I am, at best, a bar stool poet.  to that end, here's some amateur poetry about that organization who is 238 today.  Enjoy.

An Army Born

A musket cracks on an April morn;

A ball of lead marks a revolution born;

England awakes with a jolt;

The colonists are in revolt.

King George smirks at the sight;

Drunk in confidence of his might;

His Redcoats will put this rabble down;

And bend their knees to his crown.

Yet something changed on this day;

A new force of freedom joined the fray;

A united force, thirteen became one;

Now the fight was truly begun.

With Washington riding ahead;

His Soldiers followed, willingly led;

June 14^th our Army was born;

An oath to freedom all were sworn.

The early days were full of strife;

Retreat was often played by drum and fife;

Victory was hard to find;

Yet our Army continued the grind.

Through the cold, through the grief;

Our Army fought on in certain belief;

That they could fight and they could win;

Much to “his Majesty’s” chagrin.

Then at Yorktown, everything changed;

Washington’s plan was all arranged;

The British were trapped against the sea;

With the French Navy’s help, we claimed victory.

From that time until now;

The Army has kept its solemn vow;

To defend our nation night or day;

Always ready for the call into harm’s way.

Our Army is our nation’s strength

It keeps tyranny at arm’s length;

Along with others who serve;

Our way of live is preserved.

So cut the cake and sing the song;

Knowing that your Army goes rolling along!

This poem is dedicated to Sergeant Walter B. Holcomb, U.S. Army, Pacific Theater, World War II.

Be well my friends.

Jeno

Beneath the Gentle Grass

Greetings All:

Today is Memorial Day.  I have written a poem I would like to share with all of you.  I appreciate you reading it and if you think it is worth sharing, please feel free to do so.  As I am at best, a bar stool poet, I ask your pardon for any glaring literary and (almost certainly) grammatical errors.  Two quick things:

1.  The photo above is public domain and if not, I respectfully claim fair use and give thanks to the owner; and
2.  Today is, in my opinion, not to be one spent sitting in some endless day of perpetual mourning.  By all means, fire up the grill, have the beverage of your choice, play with the kids.  To me, that is the personification of freedom and liberty.  Just please, in your way, take a moment to remember those who died.  If you have a flag, today is a good day to display it.  At 12:01 p.m. EDST there is a moment of silence.  There may be an event in your hometown you want to attend.  However you recall today, that is your choice.  The poem that follows is mine.  Thanks for reading.

Beneath the Gentle Grass by Jeno Berta

In quiet places they are found;

They do not stir, utter a sound;

Here is their final home;

Adored with only a simple stone.

On this day, we give pause;

To those who gave their lives to the cause;

They fought for country and for kin;

Some only once, some again and again.

When peril called on sea or land;

Without delay they raised their hand;

Charge the enemy, into the breach;

For their protection, they did not beseech.

Some died in battle or a hospital bed;

Others from the demons raging inside their head;

Some in a prisoner camp;

Or a few feet from a landing craft ramp.

Near some lie those who did not fight;

Yet kept the home fires burning bright;

Of their fallen love they did not brag;

Just accepting with grace a folded flag.

If you go to this place, and I hope you will;

Remember those who lie there still;

Know they are at peace last;

Far from the carnage of cannon blast;

Far from death, far from pain;

From all suffering they can abstain.

Let us honor, let us grieve,

Those from whom we are cleaved;

Yet also we should recall with pride;

Of their courage displayed worldwide.

Of battles fought and wars won;

The finest of our daughters and sons.

So take a moment, if you will;

To ponder those who paid freedom’s bill;

In our national cemeteries, fallen heroes are in masse,

Their honored rest eternal, beneath the gentle grass.

The Camaro

Greetings All:

It is Memorial Day weekend.  First and foremost, it is a time to honor those who have fallen in defense of our nation.  I will be publishing a poem I wrote and I hope you will appreciate reading it, as well as understand that I am, at best, a bar stool poet.

For tonight, I want to discuss something that has not been a part of my life for several years, my Camaro.  As it is Memorial Day weekend, it is also the unofficial start of summer.  Although we in Iowa have been under a deluge of rain (hard to believe we had a drought to deal with not too long ago), soon it will be warm.  A time to be outside and if you have a convertible, then by all means, drop that top.

I am fortunate enough to have such a car.  Back in "the day," it was something that I thoroughly  enjoyed driving.  However, time, kids, several moves and other aspects of "life" have a way of pushing it off the priority list.  Long story short, thanks to a good friend, I have been able to keep my car stored.  Truth be told, the thing is not even running.  As I type this it is at Gamber's service station, awaiting a review of just how bad the damage might be to it, how much it will cost to get it back on the road and so forth.

It is amusing, at least to me, to think that there was a time when I valued this car more than any other possession I had.  I kept it washed, parked in a safe place and it never saw snow.  Those days went away with the Clinton administration.  In fact, I am trying to find the boot for the convertible top and the faceplate for the stereo.  Again, these are casualties of several moves.  I am going to be an optimist that they will turn up and also that it will not break the bank to bring it back to life.  As I mentioned, it is at Gamber's Service Station, where mechanic and Camaro owner Gary Gamber will, I hope and trust, do his best to get it back on the road.  If not, then I will accept reality.  However, I do hope I can drive it again. 

True, there is something about the American muscle car.  Perhaps no other tangible thing defined the post-war, baby-boom era more clearly than cars.  And not just any cars, but those that rumbled when started and roared when moved.  I remember being in London in 1993 and my roommates and I heard the distinct sound of a 70s-era muscle car.  In a sea of affluence, of fast swimming Euro-flash cars, it was clear who was the shark.

Of course, one can argue that in a period of global warming, high gas costs and other concerns, a V-8 engine is a waste of resources.  That argument was likely raised during the OPEC oil embargo of the 1970s.  Fair enough.  Although I would respectfully submit that the genre of American sports/muscle cars is as much about culture as it is about horsepower.  It is a tribute to the ability of car makers to take a concept as vague as freedom and wrap it into something tangible that allows the practical exercise of the pursuit of happiness, if even for a brief trip to the ice cream parlor.  My days of driving fast are well over.  However, I do have to appreciate that when the pedal goes down, the needle on the speedometer goes up.  I also think speed and horsepower are examples of something bigger as alluded to above- the spirit of America.  In that light, I believe Caroll Shelby, the legendary car maker and crown prince of American muscle cars might have said it best:  " If a little is good, more is better, too much is just enough."  

I will keep you posted on its progress.  In the meantime, here is a photo of the car.

I know, it needs a bath.  All in good time, let's get it running first.

Have a great rest of your holiday weekend.  I would ask that tomorrow, in your own way, please take a moment to remember those who fell for our nation, thanks.

Be well my friends,
Jeno