Heart and Mind Coalescence

Art by Alex Grey, entitled, 

Heart Consciousness

In her 1807 book, Patriotic Sketches of Ireland, Sydney Owenson observes:

Political philosophy is an extension of the mind’s eye to the whole great scale of civil society, and demonstrating the close-linked dependencies of its remotest parts, affords to the benevolence of the human heart, and the comprehension of the human understanding, a social system, gratifying to the feelings of the one, and ennobling to the faculties of the other. (33)

The human heart and 'comprehension of understanding,' are two distinct entities, for the heart, aside from its organic characteristics, contains the very essence of human perceptions. 

In contrast, comprehension of understanding involves the assimilation of intelligence and critical analysis as they interact with the psycho-physiological structure to form a wondrous flow of human affability. 

Harmony

One heart ~

beating strong

beating true

sings

One song ~

through melodies sublime

envelops

Two lives ~

circuitous, refined

coalesce

Two souls ~

ennobled

by the One.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Imre Madach's "The Tragedy of Man," Revolution and Knowledge

Photo: Illustration from website: http://www.wga.hu/html/z/zichy/index.html 

In The Tragedy of Man (1860), Hungarian playwright, Imre Madach, reveals the inherent spirit within humanity to resolve differences through knowledge. This play, consisting of fifteen scenes, depicts the first couple, Adam and Eve, in paradise whereby Eve questions the validity of the Lord’s request to deprive the couple of all knowledge. In her exchange with Lucifer in Scene II, she philosophizes:

Why should he punish? For if he hath fixed

The way that he would have us follow, so

He hath ordained it, that no sinful lure

Should draw us otherwhere; why hath he set

The path athwart a giddy yawning gulf

To doom us to destruction? If, likewise,

Sin hath a place in the eternal plan,

As storm amid the days of sunlit warmth,

Who would the angry storm more guilty deem

Than the life-giving brightness of the sun? (Scene II)

After leaving the garden of Eden for tasting of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, Adam and Eve fall asleep in their new home and experience a number of historical events to become aware of the many ways humanity has grown into self knowledge, beginning in Egypt, where the couple learns of personal glory. Adam then longs to learn of humanity’s struggle for the good of nation, through experiences in ancient Athens, Greece. They discover hedonism in ancient Rome, Christianity in the form of knighthood of the middle ages, where he also discovers medieval fanaticism. This leads to his search for sense in the sphere of Johannes Kepler. However, in the world of Emperor Rudolph, Adam moves on to the French Revolution, where he encounters the deceit of Danton and the ultimate failure in humankind’s ability to execute a lasting revolution. He becomes disenchanted with humanity at the London Fair. In the final scene, Eve tells Adam of the upcoming birth of their second child. She foreshadows:

If God so will, a second shall be born

In sorrow, who shall wash them both away

And bring upon this wide world, brotherhood.

Well, we all know what happened with that relationship, so Imre Madach, who places the burden of man’s struggle at the hands of the woman, also illustrates that humanity has within its grasp the ability to seize control over its destiny as the heavenly choir of angels sings:

…Yet in the glory of thy road,

Let not the thought thee blind

That what thou dost in praise of God

Is wrought of human mind.

Think not the Lord hath need of thee

His purpose to fulfill,

And thou receivest from Him grace,

If thou mayest work His will.

The Lord responds: O Man, strive on, strive on, have faith; and trust! (Scene XV)

Therefore, Imre Madach reveals, through the artistry of his writing, his intense belief that within its own consciousness, humanity has the ability to advance harmonic relevance from dissonant experience, for he presents Eve as the mother of humanity with the conviction that her children will move humanity forward in their quest for true knowledge. (Lakatos 2007)

On a Cashew Nut

Once, the Poetry Bus poetry group request for us was to write a poem on something on which we would normally not write... literally.

Well, that particular week, we had been having a100+º heat wave here in Connecticut, and my brain had definitely melted.... So, I took my teeny tiny 'PreciseV5' purple pen and wrote the following haiku on a cashew nut. Graffiti for ants! A fun activity! Here is the photo of my creative endeavor:

Cashew Haiku

On this nut I write

I, this nut, write on

cashew deliberation

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this, please click HERE.

An Exercise in Metaphor

Here's a little metaphor exercise for you: 
1.  Close your eyes, and breathe deeply for a few minutes. 
2.  Open your eyes. 
3.  Write down the very first thing that you focus on. 
4.  Describe ten possibilities that this object could be. 
5.  Now apply those possibilities to yourself.
6.  Write down these possibilities.
7.  Viola! Your metaphor! (for today anyway)


To begin: a beeswax candle
  1. light
  2. warmth
  3. sweet scent
  4. colorful 
  5. melted wax could be made into new candle
  6. melted wax could be made into an ornament
  7. melted wax could be used to strengthen thread
  8. remolded and given as a gift 
  9. inspiration for a poem
10. creates peaceful ambience 

My metaphor: 

Teaching, playing music, and writing that hopefully enlightens,

my kindness could add warmth to someone's life.

Some have said I am sweet, 

and honeysuckle oil is my fragrance of choice.

My choice of clothing often is quite colorful, 

yet I renew my perspective of life 

through humble, daily prayer.

Once, I played the role of an 'ornament,'

but through my tears (melted wax), 

I have gained inner strength.

As I continue to redefine myself, 

hopefully, 

my contributions become gifts to this lifetime. 

I don't know if I've ever been an inspiration for a poem, 

but I am inspired by others daily.

I love peace: 

peace of mind, peace on earth, peace- love- joy! 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Now, you try! 

Flow from Within

I took this photo of the beautiful St. Stephen's Green in Dublin, Ireland.

Whilst deciding to post this 'flow' poem, little did I know that some of my own life experiences would correspond with the poem's theme, written years ago. This phenomenon is a fine illustration of our emotional revolutions. Even though our lives may go through certain trials and tribulations, through the blessings of Divine Love, I've realized, as this poem states, that we have the power within to "release the blissful flow," and I'm determined to do just that.

Flow from Within

Spewing angst 

from the odium,

I ache 

for benevolence

and tolerance 

to stream

 through this tarnished conduit,

praying for the chance to feel

agony evolve 

into opportunity,

releasing 

the blissful 

flow.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Arachnid's Aim

 Once, I observed a lovely spider, busily spinning her web, and I proceeded to write the poem below. 

A spider's web suspended from my deck

Arachnid's Aim

One by One by One by One by One by One by One by One,

she extends her reach into the world, 

Glad that she yet retains eight strong, healthy appendages. 

Her sisters' are damaged, maimed, broken, or lost, 

but hers are vibrant, able to take her

to any destination she beholds as sacred. 

Now, she extends her reach into the world.

Carefully, gracefully, she moves along this space,

arranging each extension in its proper place, 

allowing a Hopeful Touch to capture the attention

of one who will see her radiance

and share her iridescence with lasting, hopeful bliss.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

You can hear me recite this verse by clicking the link HERE.

Out of the Fog

I took this photo in Dublin, Ireland...after being lost in Dun Laoghaire for hours.

I thought it was amazing that a small white cloud seemed to surround the light on the lamp post.

Head 

out of the fog,

and soon, 

distortion dissipates. 

Recognition 

of a flawed distinction 

leads to a 

Renaissance.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

From my Operetta, Luminescence: Rhododendron (Thoughts of Anne Sexton)

There exists a balance of positive and negative in life, and in my operetta, Luminescence, I address this through the spirit voice of Anne Sexton and her associated flower, Rhododendron.

 

                                                 Photo from the site: Summerhillgardencentre.co.uk

Rhododendron: Dark Thoughts

(from my operetta, Luminescence)

From the corner of the garden,

a fierce wind buffets 

branches of the Rhododendron.

Now enters the looming danger 

of love’s despair.

Begonia, Narcissus,

and Southernwood

all bode a feeling of lost love

in the midst of this glorious

locus amoenus.

Anne whispers: 

Rhododendron is my flower’s name,

I bring dark thoughts

into this world of fragrance.

I make the lives of my seed

and the surrounding seeds

suffer as I do.

Humanity has attached meaning 

to our nature, proclaiming

that we ignore

the pleas of the world

within our hearts, 

so we suffer the association

with human frailties:

vanity, melancholy, heartbreak. 

But here in this garden, I now see: 

The beauty in our lives

does indeed surround us,

even in our darkest moments,

even in those isolated

hours of despair.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(To hear my reading of this poem, please click HERE.)

A Long Sentence, Silence is.

Below is a poem inspired by a number of events involving my family and friends in which the long wait in a hospital sometimes has felt like a sentence. Waiting for word from medical staff on the outcome of a loved one leads to the mixed feelings of worry, loneliness, and hope. I wrote this as one very long sentence with the subject Silence and the verb, is because in these moments, we gain strength in the silence. 

 

Coole Park, Ireland

A Long Sentence 

While moist eyes wait

for word of your condition,

inquiring of God 

if I will experience your vibrance again,

though the response is "I don't know,"

though I smile to hide my tears,
though my heart yearns to beat

with the rhythm of your joy,

waiting

for the word that brings hope

for the song of your smiles 

for your breath of “yes”

within is the silence 

of a long sentence

and outside:

the wind,

the rain,

a lone lea,

me,

then the sun.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(To hear my reading of this poem on Pod-omatic, click HERE.)

On this Veterans Day, I say to all Veterans...

Thank you, Veterans! 

God Bless you!

Thank you, Veterans! 

From Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, United States Marine Corps: 

It is the soldier, not the reporter,

who has given us freedom of the press.

It is the soldier, not the poet,

who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the soldier, not the campus organizer,

who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.

It is the soldier, not the lawyer,

who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is the soldier,

who salutes the flag,

who serves under the flag,

and whose coffin is draped by the flag,

who allows the protester to burn the flag.

Ekphrasis: My poem, "Haven" and the Church of St. Stephen the Martyr

Below is a photo of the Church of St. Stephen the Martyr in Opotiki, New Zealand. This picture brought to mind the introduction to a collection of short stories that I will complete... one day. The poem accompanying this photo is a conversion of a portion of my prose introduction to poetic form.

Church of St Stephen the Martyr, Opotiki, ca 1910-1930

"I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God."

~ St. Stephen’s words at his theophany

Haven

They beckon 

the weary-hearted and calloused,

“Come and sit with me.”

Rows of empty pews

moor at a small altar,

each one anchored with a kneeler. 

Her candle lit,
she takes her usual seat

in the second row,

hoists the kneeler, 

then quietly moves it

to the wood floor,

genuflects in the Holy Presence, 

and blesses herself.

With eyes lowered,

she steers her troubled vessel

on an ethereal air,

through prayerful sighs

to the Haven of hope,

His almighty promise.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(My reading of this poem is on Pod-omatic at the bottom of this page.)