Arts
The Arts section of Orient Lodge
"Random Acts of Kindness"
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Fri, 05/15/2015 - 20:44At the bookstore checkout
I asked the manager
if there were any more copies
of Levertov’s
“Sands of The Well”.
He motioned to a young man
standing near the counter.
“He just bought the last one.”
The young looked at me and said,
“Here, take it.”
“But you’ve already paid the price”
I protested.
“It is a gift,” he said.
All eyes turned to me.
“I don’t deserve this gift”
I thought to myself.
Another customer explained
that Robbie always did stuff like that,
“random acts of kindness.”
I accepted the gift with thankfulness
and wondered,
“Is this how Peter felt when Jesus washed his feet?”
And at the final day
will I ask, “is there any more forgiveness?”
only to hear
the manager say,
“Jesus bought it all”
Will Jesus say,
“Here, take it.”
Will I protest
“But you’ve already paid the price”?
Only to hear
“It’s a gift”
Will the prayer of humble access come to mind
as others explain
that Jesus always did stuff like that,
“random acts of kindness”.
#rhizo15 Content and Connections
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Tue, 05/05/2015 - 17:01Crowds of meek young men and women growing up in libraries,
believing it is your duty to accept the content,
which Cicero, which Locke, which Bacon, have given,
how curious you are to me!
Huddled away in lonely dorm rooms,
reading sanitized facts
in the hopes of passing a multiple choice quiz,
you are more curious to me than you suppose.
Surfing the internet at dawn looking for an angry fix
forgetful that Cicero, Locke, and Bacon
were only young men in libraries,
when they created their content.
You will graduate to lead lives of quiet desperation,
boredom, routine, and petty frustration
in the day to day trenches of adult existence,
until you make the connections.
Early Reflections on #Rhizo15
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Fri, 04/17/2015 - 06:38Two roads diverged
in a rewilding post urban landscape
descending into chaos
before emerging and maturing
into a natural unique
niche of biodiversity.
And being one learner, long I stood
reading Facebook updates and blog posts
pondering subjectives and objectives,
goals and primary tasks.
I looked at goals as long as I could
but remembered Stevenson and Eliot
and embraced
the age-old art of getting lost.
I decided to travel hopefully
and return where I started
after chasing red herrings
down blind alleys.
I saw the best minds of my generation
looking for a different fix.
connection to likeminded travelers,
seeking truth
in the symbol ‘O’,
l’objet petit a,
the lost, partial, transitional object,
the rhizome.
On My Mother's Birthday
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Mon, 04/13/2015 - 20:27What was it like, in that farm house
beside the Connecticut river
eighty four years ago
when my mother was born?
Did her older siblings
gather round
in joy and wonder and awe?
Did they help with the chores?
And her parents,
did they worry about
another mouth to feed
in the early days of the great depression?
The stories I remember are idyllic
playing by the side of the river
in the warm summer sun
without a care.
But what about the hard times?
Was she ever cold or hungry?
Was she ever picked on
by siblings or classmates?
Years later,
some of the stories came out
on my grandmother’s death bed.
Now, they’re both gone.
So I think of the sunlight
bouncing of the breeze blown ripples
of the slow summer river
and not the privations.
It’s probably what she would want me to remember
anyway
News
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Fri, 04/10/2015 - 21:01It’s national poetry month.
I read the prompts on twitter.
I join a webinar
on young folks activism.
I watch the Dickinson videos
in an online class.
The candidates position themselves
for the upcoming presidential election.
The dead are mourned.
Deals are struck.
Baseball season has begun.
The snow has given way
to fog and rain
and in the plains
tornados spawn.
Dinner has been eaten.
The sun has set.
Sleep.
