Sunday, December 6, 2009

Sunday Poetry Post

Bebo on thin ice, perpetually

Click for larger

That Shadow My Likeness
By Walt Whitman

That shadow my likeness that goes to and fro seeking a livelihood,
chattering, chaffering,
How often I find myself standing and looking at it where it flits,
How often I question and doubt whether that is really me;
But among my lovers and caroling these songs,
O I never doubt whether that is really me.


  1. Jim, Love Bebo's Pic and the poem.
    Dogs are so always themselves while we dress up or down and often seek to be different than we think we are.
    Bebo strutting onto the ice exudes such energy. Makes me ready to start the day, assured it will be a good one.

    The Horns eeked out a victory after a SLOW, unexciting game. When the field goal kickers on both teams are the feature players, it is not a game I enjoy. Alabama on the other hand played wildly entertaining, powerful ball.
    Beth, safe trip and here's hoping your Broncos win.

    Got the main part of my Christmas shopping done yesterday. We drew names so only one person to buy for. Big Box of Slim Jims, Bags of nuts, and a giant jar of Cheese puffs I think will go well with the Ripley's Believe It or Not book for my 14 year old eat anything in sight, reluctant reader nephew. Sam's club can make for fun holiday shopping.
    Everyone will get a stocking with fun/useful things so still have some shopping to do for those.
    Like Thanksgiving, not going to stress this year. The big meal is at sister in law's--woohoo.

    Waves as off to work on story.
    Relaxing Sunday to all.

  2. I thought Bebo was standing on sand at first - guess it's all perspective!

    Lucky you having most of your shopping done, Lisa. The gifts sound perfect! Not much for me to buy this year - which is both a relief and a little sad.

    Won't get to watch too much football today, so I'm glad I caught the games yesterday. Too true about the Horns game - still love the excitement of college ball.

    Hope everyone has a stellar Sunday. Stay warm and dry, and I'll check in from NC when I can. Driving all day tomorrow. My rear end is already numb just thinking about it!


  3. Since it's Poetry Sunday...the lyrics to a song by my friend Jim Morris. He usually sings drinking-tequila-on-the-beach songs, so this is a departure. And he rarely performs it. But the first verse grabs me...dreading doing something that you know is going to be painful.

    Too Early For Drinking

    I got the message today that you called me.
    I hope everything is all right.
    It’s a little too early for that kind of drinking;
    I’ll probably call you tonight.

    I know I’m not acting the way I’m supposed to,
    Distracted by the whys and the whats.
    But I’m fighting some battles and wrestling with feelings,
    Concerned with some things that I’m not.

    Seems so long since the fall when you left for the city.
    Sometimes that thought gets me down.
    And I spoke with Giles Boutier who saw you in Paris;
    You’ve surely been getting around.

    I know that you’re doing the all things that you wanted,
    All those things that you said you would do.
    I know that you’re happy, successful and smiling;
    You’d want me to be that way too.

    Yes, I’m still writing, but the words don’t come easy.
    Sometimes it just wears me out.
    I can’t touch the essence cause I feel so distracted,
    But it’s nothing I'm too worried about.

    I’m a little too pensive, withdrawn and reflective,
    A little too drab and too gray.
    I’m not always cordial when friends come to visit.
    They hate to see me this way.

    There’s a mist on the ocean enshrouding the island;
    I feel so detached and alone.
    I’m getting to know all the barflies in Murphy’s;
    It’s beginning to feel just like home.

    I thought this might happen that night last October
    When you said you’d be going away.
    I never intended to try to dissuade you,
    So I never asked you to stay.

    So I imagined the worst when I got your letter
    Where you said that we needed to talk.
    I know I can’t change all the things that have happened;
    It’s probably nobody’s fault.

    Still I’d love to see you; I probably need to
    Just to set everything right.
    But it’s a little too early for that kind of drinking;
    I’ll probably call you tonight.
    Yes, it’s a little too early for that kind of drinking.
    Maybe I’ll call you tonight.

  4. Hey all! I have a story about dogs & thin ice (but over snow, not water); I'll tell it some time. That pic looks like one I Photoshop'ed a while back.

    Beth, I see where that song ties in with a couple other things you've been mulling over… hope you have a safe, fun, but uneventful drive to NC.

    Lisa, it sounds like you're almost done with the hectic part of Christmas & are about ready to kick back & enjoy the rest of it. I'm jealous.

    I figure a lot of you guys have this album, but this song has been gently stuck in my head on & off this week; maybe that means I'm supposed to post it. I know a lot of us could relate.

    [Lyrics by David Crosby]

    I rode my bike to town today,
    Wobbling down the path.
    I knew the kids would see me
    I love it when they laugh.

    And I wish I were a camera,
    I could slice time like a knife,
    Seeing stories in the faces
    Crystallizing life.

    Wish I were a camera,
    I wish it all the time,
    Gives my eyes a reason,
    Gives my lie a rhyme…

    I'd be a lens that could see souls,
    A shutter that never shuts.
    I'd have film to last forever.
    I would live in huts,

    In the jungles of South America
    Like my father before the war,
    I'd find out where we came from,
    And what this life is for.

    And I wish I were a camera,
    I wish it all the time,
    Gives my eyes a reason,
    Gives my lie a rhyme…

    I would climb right off this planet
    On the clearest night of all,
    And photograph the future
    When it finally comes to call.

    I would save up all these images,
    These instants in a box,
    And when I am old and lonely,
    They could cover up the clocks.

    And I wish I were a camera,
    I wish it all the time,
    Gives my eyes a reason,
    Gives my lie a rhyme…

    I wish that I could shoot at night
    And leave without a trace,
    Catch my lover's sleeping smile
    By the starlight on her face,

    But I think mostly that I'd see children,
    'Cause they haven't learned to hide,
    And watch me on my bicycle
    And laugh with me as I ride,

    While I ride…

  5. Cheese Puffs & Slim Jims, mmmmm, sounds like the beginnings of a 14yo's idea of a balanced diet, Lisa.

    Lisa and Farf, love the lyrics.

  6. I agree with Jim, great lyrics in those two songs. I have often wished my eyes were cameras too.

    Jim, your photo is wonderful, the shadow is awesome, so perfect and yet so different from the real Bebo. Love it!

  7. Don't recognize that song, Farf, but LOVE the lyrics! And yep, seems I'm always mulling over something, huh? See my place on Tuesday for my vision of me, someday in the (hopefully not-too-distant) future.

  8. Oh, this cheered me up. Wonderful! :D

  9. Morning, everybody. That poem is very Jungian. I even checked to see if their lives overlapped--which they did--but Whitman would have written this long before Jung "invented" his Shadow. I suspect Carl Jung would have liked this poem.

    Off to Florida in the morning. Yay.

  10. Afternoon Everyone,

    Jim when I first looked at the picture, I thought it was a drawing. That's a wonderful picture and a nice poem.

    Hope everyone's w/e has gone good.

  11. I love the poem and is that ice a current state of affairs in your woods?

  12. Toni, I took that photo in January of this year. We haven't had our first snow yet, but might my next weekend.

    FM, I thought the picture looked like one of the Matisse paper cutouts.

    Nancy, I don't know if Jung ever read it, but I'll bet David Byrne did. Lyrics to "Once in a Lifetime"

    Olivia, Bebo has that talent.

    Beth, looking forward to Tuesday.

    Coneflower, I like that I caught her in mid prance balanced on two paws.

    I hope everyone rested up this weekend.

  13. Oh, wow, Jim, that is interesting. If Byrne didn't, they were at least on the same wavelength.

    I was so taken with the poem I totally neglected the photo, only to see now that it is really special. Oil painting. Very Wyeth. (Sorry, everything compares and connects today. :) )