Winged Inspiration

Photos taken in my garden

Winged Inspiration

Today,

a bee flies wistfully,

nectar gathering for the hive,

Today,

a butterfly shares the space

of time and floral beauty,

collecting heavenly nourishment.

Today,

the lavender grows more alluring

in service

to its insect guests.

Today, 

the hummingbird sips  

sweet nectar from the loving, giving 

Rose of Sharon blossom. 

And as my eyes are permitted to view

this treasured scene

of serenity and industry,

I am compelled

to make a difference

before Tomorrow.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Enough of an Artist... Thank you, Albert Einstein

When I was participating in the Poetry Bus poetry workshops, one of the members asked us to follow these directives: 

1:  Think of (or find) a sentence. 

2: Delete the second half of it. 

3: Think of as many different ways of finishing it was you can. 

4: Now, delete the first part of the sentence, leaving only a collection of "second halves". 

5: Play with these and concoct a poem out of them. You'll probably want to mess about with   the grammar, leave bits out, put bits in, etc. Feel free. 

6: Post the poem.

I used a quote from Albert Einstein, and below is the concoction.

Photo of my window's view in Reims, France

I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. ~ Albert Einstein

I am Enough of an Artist...

To make my way through this airport

and appreciate the artistry

in each human utterance and smile

creative impulses within,

felt without

To hear music

in the laughter of children,

the voice of God

in the knowing timbre

of an elderly sigh

To feel this train race pass French villes,

A phantasmagoria of anxious yearning

in the muted colors of graffiti 

blended with determined drops 

of spring rain

To enter a darkened hallway,

and know that the painful hole

bitten into my lip from fear

will heal, 

bleeding into fortitude

So, I taste the blended harvest

in a bowl of vegetable soup

and ready myself for another day

with cherished goodness

of a night’s rest

upon clean, white sheets.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

The Song - An Amhran

Below, I've posted a small poem that I wrote having taken a few Irish Gaeilge classes. I'm still not sure if the grammar is correct, but I think you'll get the idea anyway. I took the photograph just as I was leaving a conference at NUI Galway. I didn't know just how gorgeous the beach was until I was on my way out of town and passed this view heading out on my way to Sligo. 

                I took this photo of Galway Beach, Ireland.

The Song                                                       An Amhran

On the wind, the song sails              Ar na gaoth, an amhran ag sceoladh 

to another who will hear                  do an eile an té cloistrail

the sweet language that blesses.       an teanga binn ag beannú.

Gathering the creed of Love,           Ag bailigh an creid de Ghrá,

the song is forever,                           ta se an amhran go deo, 

sweet and praising.                           milis agus ag moladh.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos                          © Á Siobhán I. Glasaire

The Slug: "Fortune Favours the Brave"

"Fortes fortuna iuvat!" 
(Fortune favours the brave!) 

~ Latin Proverb

Sometimes, with certain 'green-eyed' slugs, we have to take defensive action; other times, it pays simply to observe the power of Light.

www.thisgardenisillegal.com/ 2006/07/how-to-ki..

The Slug

Hypocritical green-eyed slug

compulsively feeds upon

the entrails of authenticity.

Vomiting truth along its way,

its impish, soul-less self

solely thrives on

cunning insults and ineptness.

It binges on fictional fervor

slinking in slimy skin,

 blinded by its own limitations.

It lurks about for its next victim

to entice with fabricated promises,

while other small, spineless creatures

easily fall prey to its ‘virtue.’

However...

 the Truth that this slug rejects

soon takes on a life of its own,

swirling through the air with sweet fragrance,

fusing with fortitude.

Yet still, slinking along, the slug

slowly attempts to cross my path…

I lift my elegant boot

to squish it! Squish it good!

Ah, but there's no need to squish,
for below me, I witness:

evaporating in the powerful Light,
slimy innards,
consumed
from their lack of substance. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Decades à Rose

Decades à Rose

Quivering hands release

rose petal beads

from the deepest pocket

of an abandoned purse.

She traces the Sign:

forehead, heart,

left shoulder, right shoulder;

then gently touches the Crucifix

to her trembling lips.

Clutching each bead, lips pursed,

she whispers the prayers.

Words trickling off her tongue

mingle with questions:

Why? How? Where? When?

Perspiration

awakens the rose scent

by fingers slipping their way

around the chain to the final bead.

She recalls most of that prayer.

“Good enough!”

Beads à rose...

Release

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

***********************
Insouciance (Entry II)

Feeling soucieux,
for the Bus has left without me,
I delve into the furthermost
reaches of a leather universe,
searching for a tissue to dry my tears,
lacking in certain finesse.

Soon, I touch something
soft, limp, fuzzy with appendages!
Ew, what has crawled into my purse?
Gingerly, I lift out the soft, limp,

fuzzy object by one of its appendages.
It stares at me with beady eyes
still, silent, still smiling at me
insouciant as ever, James Joyce.
I rejoice... a friend at last!

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Dante Alighieri's "Paradiso"

Photo from Google Images

http://kidslink.bo.cnr.it/ic6-bo/scuolainospedale/num6-2/divcom/Image8.jpg

Dante Alighieri’s Paradiso

This week, I’ve placed parallel posts on my blogs with both exploring Dante Alighieri’s final book of The Divine Comedy: Paradiso.

Spheres and circularity dominate the theme of this epic poem. Dante often even imitates the shape of the circle with his words. The Pilgrim and guide enter heaven at the convergence of four circles with three crosses. (This use of seven symbols refers to the seven virtues: 4 cardinal, 3 theological.)

The term "cardinal" comes from the Latin cardo or hinge; therefore, the cardinal virtues (Prudence, Justice, Temperance, and Fortitude) are pivotal to any life of virtue.In the Old Testament Book of Wisdom, 8:7, we learn that "She [Wisdom] teacheth temperance, and prudence, and justice, and fortitude, which are such things as men can have nothing more profitable in life."
In The Republic, Plato identified these virtues with societal classes and thus, the very  faculties of humanity:

Temperance: produces classes, the farmers and craftsmen, also animal appetites
Fortitude: associated with the warrior class and the spirited element in man
Prudence: associated with rulers and reason
Justice: stands outside the class system and divisions of man, and rules the proper relationship among them

The theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Love (charity), indicate a higher level of consciousness and compassion. Lessons that pertain to each of these virtues repeat throughout the Old and New Testament and within more ancient religious precepts. 

Beoufed Up

Below is a poem I wrote a while ago after passing a farm and seeing the cows getting loaded onto a red cattle van. I was amazed to see the reaction of the cows across the street in the lower pasture, obviously distraught. As it turned out, the cows were only on their way to their annual check up. Whew!!!

Beoufed Up

Brown cows loaded

into a red cattle van

One last bellow

to spare their ribs

Black cow shouts out

from the lower pasture

"Don't worry, Girlfriend!

I'll meat you on the other side."

This week, the 'girls' will be on the menu:

Porterhouse, Sirloin, Filet Mignon

"Medium Rare, au jus on the side, please."

I wonder,

as the restaurant patrons

pass the emptied pasture

in beefed up red sports cars

with their beoufed up selves,

will there be a longing?

Jeanne I. Lakatos 2010

'Morning' from LUMINESCENCE

This morning, the birds were in their glory: singing, chirping, and busy with their daily activities. I live in an area of Connecticut that is blessed with much beautiful greenery and wildlife. Long ago, I looked at this photograph of an abandoned canoe, and the first thing that came to mind was the tranquility of an abandoned garden on a steamy day, much like the one we have here today and such as the one which is the subject of my operetta, Luminescence, an interpretation of the medieval French epyllion, Roman de la Rose. Below is an excerpt from one of the recitatives, 'Morning.'

Eugène Atget

Etang de Corot, Ville-d'Avray, 1900-1910

Morning 

(from my operetta, “Luminescence”)

The wind gracefully embraces

feathered wings of russet, crimson and blue 

that brush the highest branches of clustered trees.

Each bough gambols a synchronized dance

in rhythm with the singing birds in flight.

Their gaze intakes the scene below:

A cooling brook, purling through the twisted,

scented undergrowth, creating a reflective ribbon,

adorning this Eden with an elegant, colorful bouquet

embellishes fertile banks with mystical brilliance.

Soothing liquid-echoes honor an infinite presence.

Morning dew trickles over folded petals

and drifts down each stiffened stalk

to reach deeply into the nutritious soil.

Leaves unfurl to frame delicate flowers.

They gracefully position themselves

to receive pollen for the creation of new life

and shimmer in the morning’s glow.

Each flower silently waits

for that glorious moment of sweet surrender

in fulfillment of her quest.

As the flowers open their petals,

they attract the arrival of winged suitors,

destined to pollinate their yearning pistils.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

I extend much gratitude to the following brilliant musicians, who have transposed (or are in the process of transposing) an Irish melody compiled by Sydney Owenson (1804) into 5 musical genres for this operetta: Dr. Marjorie Callaghan (medieval) and Mr. Daniel Kean (baroque and classical).

A Yankee Doodle Dandy

A dear friend was like a surrogate Mom to me and just about everyone else in town.  Every 4th of July, she could be seen in the town parade, riding the back of a motorcycle. (See photo below.) She was the mother of several children now living across the U.S., grandma and great-grandma to oodles more, and just a love. If you have the time, click (tick) onto A Patriotic Wave  to visit my other blog and another poem. 

Happy 4th of July from Connecticut, U.S.A! 

A Yankee Doodle Dandy

She's everybody's Mother.

She 'owns' the third pew

 at Mass on Sunday and daily, too,

just to be sure the priests stay true.

 She's an early bird all right

this merry widow dressed in red.

Prayed for the man for whom she wore white

50+ years ago

whispered one last "I love you!"

Sang the blues.

Then...

hopped on the back of this one's bike,

held on tight to save her life. 

Waves, smiles, stories to share,

filling up on love

feathered boa in mid-air

This yankee doodle dandy

in red, white and blue!

© Jeanne I. Lakatos