"But the Greatest of these..."

1 Corinthians: 1-13 (kjv)

1 If I speak with the tongues of men, and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.

2 And if I should have prophecy and should know all mysteries, and all knowledge, and if I should have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing.

3 And if I should distribute all my goods to feed the poor, and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing.

4 Love is patient, love is kind: love is envieth not, dealeth not perversely not; is not puffed up;

5 Is not ambitious, seeketh not her own, is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil;

6 Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth;

7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

8 Love never falleth away: whether prophecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be destroyed.

9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.

10 But when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be done away.

11 When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But, when I became an adult, I put away the things of a child.

12 We see now through a glass in a dark manner; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know even as I am known.

13 And now there remain faith, hope, and love, these three: but the greatest of these is love.

Physics of Divine Love

Physics of Divine Love 

Harmony and illumination unconfined
by restrictions of the human mind 
impetuously flit throughout the universe
in joyful exhilaration. 

God's eye sees the vibrance.
God's ear hears the exuberance. 

God's hand touches the human heart. 

God's wisdom guides the human soul

to learn the truth of Divine Love. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this verse, please click HERE.

Attack of the Georgia June Bugs

June bug from DuckDuckGo Images

With warm days behind and ahead of us, my mind immediately traveled to a memory of one laundry night, many years ago, when I lived in Norcross, Georgia. If you have never encountered a Georgia June bug, well, let me tell you... you are fortunate indeed. The darn things are about two inches long and click and sputter around lights at night, all summer long. ugh! ugh! (worth 2 ughs!) Anyway, here's the poem:

Attack of the Georgia June Bugs

Snugly against my right hip,

I carry laundry, clean and folded,

in a wicker basket on a hot, southern night.

Georgia June bugs encircle my head.

Zipping to and fro, their wings roar

like ghosts of B-52 bombers.

I run to escape 

their clicking laughs;

laundry jostles over the edges of the basket.

Quickly. I swoop 

to retrieve escaping undergarments

before anyone sees me or those bugs get nearer.

“Don’t you dare fly into my hair!”

Ah, at last! 

I’m inside my apartment.

Only one goal: to sip a nice, cold sweet tea.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me read this, please click HERE.

North Carolina Mountains

Mountains of Cullowhee, North Carolina  (photo from DuckDuckGo images)

 

North Carolina Mountains

 

The North Carolina Mountains, 

so beautiful, so sublime...

in my heart they’ve nestled in,

clinging to my eternal soul,

erasing the concept of time. 

 

Memories that I have there

are gentle, filled with love,

and in my quiet moments, 

I envision Angels recalling 

with peaceful smiles from above.

 

One day, when I return, 

 those hills of green will welcome me

 with gurgling brooks and lakes so clean,

and blissfully, I will sing along, 

coalescing with their sweet harmony.

 

© Jeanne Iris Lakatos

Wild Roses

 

Wild Roses, full bloom in my garden

From my operetta, Luminescence: 

How can this Rose grow steadily on the vine
and not see the goodness of her Diviner’s gift?

The holy offerings of kindness, 

joy and cerebral inspiration

have led to this moment of jubilant glory.

I erupt with vitality, basking in this moment

of perfect harmony with the one who bestows 

wisdom deep in my spirit.

Humbled by the magnitude of this influence,

I breathe in the goodness.

Evensong radiates compassion on my heart.

© Jeanne Iris Lakatos

My Joycean Journey

Quite a few years ago, on June 17th, yes, the day after Bloomsday, I intended to attend a conference held on the IADT (Institute of Art Design and Technology) campus in Dun Laoghaire, Ireland. Since I wasn't scheduled to present until the 19th, I thought I'd drive myself for the first day's activities. After carefully surveying maps and consulting Mapquest, I sat myself in the driver's seat and decided to drive myself. Since I'm left-handed, driving on the left side of the road comes naturally to me. I was set to go. FOUR HOURS later, I drove into the parking lot of IADT. The following days, I relied on the bus. 

Below is a photo I took whilst I was lost: 

Day After Bloomsday: 

My Own Odyssey in Dun Laoghaire, Ireland

I pass by Davy Byrne's pub 

And think, “I must go there for a pint.”

It’s just off Grafton Street, ye know. 

And there’s the Ormond Hotel (Sirens chapter) 

But I must get on the M-50 to Dun Laoghaire.

It’s now 9:30. 

I get off the M-50 and drive along the highway,

I go through a town and find another highway.

Water is to my left. So beautiful! 

I take a picture and miss my turn.

So I ask for directions from a lovely garda. 

“Oh, I know exactly where ye want to go. 

I used to pick mushrooms there 

when I was a boy. Shame what they’ve done

To that land now. A real shame. It’ll take you

no time at all to get there.”

I follow his directions to the T…

And end up at the Martello tower.

The Coast Guard tell me I’m almost there.

10:30 I missed the first panels.

I drive around Sandycove 

And around Sandycove

And around Sandycove 

And around.... well, you get the picture...

I see cliffs in the distance. I want to jump….

End up back in City Center Dublin!

I pass the Gardai station again

in Dun Laoghaire... and keep driving.

Eventually,

I see a little red pub: Dunpheys Pub

1:00 (I’ve missed Lunch.) 

I beg them to tell me where IADT is. 

“I’ve heard there’s a blue, boxy building,” sigh I. 

One kind gentleman says to another,

“Oh, I know where that is. 

Tom’s son goes there. 

Here, let me draw you a map.”

He proceeds to draw each traffic light, 

And tells me which lane to drive in.

I make it! Just in time for the 2:00 panel. 

When I return to my hotel room,

An email awaits me from my friend,

“Jeanne,” he says, “You MUST go to 

Davy Byrne’s pub, the Martello Tower,

(Opening Ithaca chapter-

where Buck Mulligan descends the stairwell.) 

Sandycove, the cliffs of Killiney… 

That’s real Joyce country.” 

I smile as my keys click the reply… 

Been there, done that. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos 

Media Arts Building, IADT, Dun Laoghaire, Ireland, where mushrooms once grew.

Bloomsday! (June 16th)

I took this photo of O'Neill's Pub, Suffolk St., Dublin, Ireland 27 May, 2010.

---that was the one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you yes that was why I liked him---  (from Molly Bloom's soliloquy in the novel, Ulysses, by James Joyce)

Happy Bloomsday! In James Joyce's novel, Ulysses, Leopold Bloom epitomizes the concept of circuitous paths, as he meanders through the streets of Dublin on the 16th of June, 1904. The following is an excerpt from a paper I presented in Dun Laoghaire last year. It will be a chapter in a book to be published this year with Peter Lang Publishers and illustrates the use of iconic realism in James Joyce's Ulysses as well as in the medieval poem, Roman de la Rose. The following excerpt from that chapter discusses the character, Molly Bloom, who speaks out in the final 'Penelope' chapter through 40 pages of stream of consciousness and not a punctuation point to be found... an amazing read!

            In his novel, Ulysses, James Joyce illustrates parochial dissonance by means of Victorian feminine perceptions throughout Molly Bloom’s soliloquy in the final chapter of his epic tale. Using stream of consciousness in a manner unparalleled at this novel’s publication, Joyce leads his audience to the entrance of the sphere of Molly’s mind, taking the reader to every crevice of her feminine consciousness. Joyce defies the social stigma of women during this era as he interweaves Molly Bloom’s expression of a unique feminine point of view.

            Through Molly’s voice, he seeks answers to his own challenge with a feminine defiance of human weakness. The Ireland in which James Joyce lives is in the midst of revolution. As Joyce leaves his ancestral home, he allows his own genius to flourish. He sees the result of the male world’s design for women and seeks to illuminate the world with its significance. His personal associations with women frame the female portrait of Molly Bloom, as he places Molly in the midst of the Victorian era, with its focus on proper placement of gender roles, customs and even nations, carries the burden of living with this regimented philosophical point of view. Joyce designs the person of Molly to reveal traits that originate from conventional Victorian masculine ideas of how a woman should act or think. Joyce writes Molly as one whose actions have a tendency to focus upon her sexual desires. Molly, like Ireland, is a contradiction of human spirit. On one hand, she is independent, wild, yet she depends on the ruler of her heart for identity.