Sweet Dreams (Codladh sámh)

Sweet Dreams (Codladh sámh)

Softly the trees sway
breezes steadily pulsating
plummeting my senses 
DEEP DEEp DEep Deep deep
into a serene, sensory 
serenade of sleep
slowly sifting
through sands of 
discernment
into a sea of dreams
where fantasy releases
the genesis 
of truth

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

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

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

To hear me recite this, please click HERE.

The Shy One

The poem below deals with a childhood hurdle that eventually led me to grow in confidence: the family tag of 'the shy one.' 

a photo of pensive me, 2009

The Shy One

“Jeanne is the shy one,”

explained Mom 

when she introduced 

my siblings and me

to someone new

we happened to meet.

My tag was sewn,

identified and neat.

But I really wasn’t terribly shy

as indicated by Mother.

I simply loved to scrutinize

and exercise prudence

in dealing with others.

A curse back then.

But now I understand;

my pensive ‘flaws’

were precious gifts

of a Higher command.

Indeed, this shy one

has ardently grown,

for my interactions

delicately honed,

pensive and discreet,

have led me to complete

some pretty marvelous feats.

Thank you, Lord. 

Thanks Mom and Dad... 

May the Perpetual Light shine upon you.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Acts of Love

 

The Great Smoky Mountains, North Carolina 

(photo from DuckDuckGo Images)

Acts of Love

Someone over there
might reach out to me,

might need my comfort, 

my trust, my love. 

The Lord will provide 
Blessed moments to enfold 

a Joy fulfilled

 with the one over there. 

First, I will pray,

then gently step forward,  

lifting the heart 

of the one over there. 

I accept all that God provides,

 share what the Son confides
do what the Spirit guides:

righteous acts of Love.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Insouciance

Insouciance 

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, smiling at me
insouciant as ever, James Joyce.
I rejoice... a friend!

What bus? 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

* insouciant or insouciance: nonchalant, unconcerned

* soucieux: worried, concerned 

We will always remember!

Photo from Google Images

Click onto the candle to hear Sarah McLachlan sing "Angel."

Photo from http://michaeljamescasey.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/natl_memorial.jpg

Photo from Washington Post

Photo from Google Images

 The National 9/11 Memorial, New York City, Pentagon 9/11 Memorial, and Flight 93 Memorial

I wrote this poem the afternoon of September 11, 2001 in Danbury, CT, 65 miles north of the devastating scene unfolding in New York City, yet close enough to know that the same clouds passing right above me just passed over that horror. The wispy clouds almost looked like angels floating above and away from the madness below. No planes crossed the sky above, only silence… except for the industry of nature.

September 11, 2001

Bellowing clouds of madness

devour cavernous streets

filled with masses 

seeking freedom

from a spumous potion of death.

Silent plumes in an azure sky,

Blessed by the prayers
of three thousand Angels,
newly formed and gliding overhead,
mollify this tableau of horror.

As evening approaches, 

silent stars fill the night firmament. 

No airplanes fly in this night sky.

Delicate crickets chirp; katydids begin to sing.

Strong airy wings of a soaring bird reveal 

a Love that can never die...

Freedom prevails.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos  2001

Benoit Mandelbrot, the 'Father of Fractals'

Benoit Mandelbrot

Examples of Fractals (photos from Google Images)

Ever since I learned what fractals were, I've been absolutely fascinated with them. The man who brought us face to face with the beautiful link between mathematics, art, and nature through the fractal equation was Benoit Mandelbrot. Below is a link to an article about the former Yale University professor, Benoit Mandelbrot:

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/insidenova/2010/10/goodbye-to-the-father-of-fractals.html

Also, below is a link to a lovely musical/artistic tribute to fractals:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H8ZjPgEF5aI&feature=related

The Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Click below for more information from the Catholic News Agency: 

 The Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary: 

Saint of the day: Sept. 8: The Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary

The Nativity of the Virgin, c. 1400-1405, 

painting by Andrea di Bartolo, 

housed at the National Gallery of Art

"Touching His Hem..."

Photo from DuckDuckGo images

"...They... besought Him that they might only touch the hem of His garment: 
and as many as touched were made perfectly whole." (Matthew 14:35-36) kjv

Touching His Hem

Broken, 

she sought the Truth

of whom she was supposed to be. 

She did not have the knowledge, 

so she searched for inspiration 

and found it not, 

for she was lost and afraid. 

Until... 

she touched the hem of His garment. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me read this verse, please click HERE.

One Toothy Smile... for a Price

Photo from Google Images: 6thsenselondon.com

One Toothy Smile... for a Price

The last time I was there,

she scrubbed and scraped

poked and prodded

flossed and fussed

asked me questions

and seemed to understand

my mouth-filled speech,

draped an x-ray proof

jacket upon me

left the room

to "take pictures"

stuffed my mouth

with fluoride cotton pillows 

and with the tray,

again left the room,

called in the physician

who poked and prodded

gaped and nodded

examined the pictures

and stated quite satisfied,

“Your teeth are fine!”

Upon checking out,

the receptionist announced,

“That’ll be $400.00, please,

and would you like to make an appointment 

for 6 months from now?”

Hmmm... I thought to myself: 

"I’ll return...

when my tooth aches

more than my wallet."

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Cognitive Revolutions: Creative Revelations

A Beautiful Sunset in Danbury, CT

The Gospel Reading at church with the story of Jesus, meeting His disciples on the Road to Emmaus, (Luke 24:13-35) made me think...

We learn to recognize aspects of our lives that create impressions, unaware of the cognitive variations that our minds and bodies interpret and reinterpret. Yet, we continue to gracefully move through our personal universes. How often have we affected others? How often have others affected us?

Revolution of thought is inclusive of awareness within the mind and body with their inter/intra-connections. Very simply, as we perceive and cognitively organize our environment, we slowly create the opus that is only ours to share. To consider this concept in a positive way, that opus can move humanity to a higher level of consciousness.

Just think! If individuals elevated their thinking to those matters that pertain to the goodness and creative genius that dwells within, how generous we could be with each other! How marvelous this Earthly experience could be!

As we concentrate intently on our thoughts and their influences, we affect our reality, and thus, we open the possibilities of individual, creative, and Love connections... in God's time.

A Quote by William Blake and Some Thoughts

I took this photo as I was leaving Galway Beach, Ireland.

“To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wild flower 

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour.” 

~ William Blake from "Augeries of Innocence"

Sharing Views

Whenever I traveled the Irish west coast,

listening to the waves lap up on shore,

my mind would wonder: 

"Just across that ocean 

is the east coast of the United States.

Who do I know might be sharing this view?" 

Then, along the beach at Cape Cod, 

I searched the ocean's horizon 

and wondered: "Who is looking across this sea

and possibly looking right at me?"

The blue-gray waters ebb and flow

releasing endless ruminations.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me read this, please click HERE. 

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 compose 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 result.

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, passing 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

Common Thread, Shared Bread

Photo from DuckDuckGo Images

Common Thread, Shared Bread

Friendship bound by a common thread

nourished with inspirational Bread

of kindness, humor, and stories we share.

How lovely! Someone actually does care! 

These are the blessings we unfold

honoring love as our version of gold,

refraining from giving annoyance reign

for a wintry soul has warmth to gain.

 Lifting hearts with a benevolent thread,

we stitch the tattered as we share the Bread.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this verse, please click HERE. 

Divine Breath

The Holy Trinity  

by Corrado Giaquinto, circa 1754

One morning, I was inspired by the homily of our local priest, Fr. 'Tim.' He was referring to the Holy Spirit and the Hebrew term for spirit: breath. Hence, I penned the following: 

Divine Breath

Enter the Holy chamber; 

kneel before Divinity, 
present on the altar 

in the form of a simple candle.
Surrounded by a feeling of His welcoming Spirit,
a Blessed breath causes one 

to inhale: 
the Cleansing Air of Love and Forgiveness,
to exhale: 

the chaos of hate and compromise.
Over and over, 

this choice is made:
to breathe in the Holy Spirit, 
from His Divine Breath: 

essential to all of humanity, 
the salve that soothes the wounded soul.
Breathe in. 

Breathe out.

© Jeanne Iris Lakatos

To hear my reading of this vers, please click HERE.

Bluebell: National Bluebell Day, August 31

Bluebell

The Bluebell is a flower,

symbolizing Constancy and Helpfulness.

And I see bluebells lining the path

of a kind spirit traveling through this life

in the body of a noble person.

To this spirited traveler, 

a dynamic coalescence of meditation and action

form the foundation of relevance.

Steadiness, calm, and a quick smile

follow echoes of hearty laughs and wit.

Bluebells dance at the feet 

of this gentle, jovial spirit.

A vibrant energy and fragrance,

ever present in the serenity,

timeless and enchanting.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Sydney Owenson, Intellectual Thought, and Positive Change

                                                                                                                 
From my book, Innovations in Rhetoric in the Writing of Sydney Owenson (Lady Morgan, 1781-1859), pages 52-53: 

In her 1840 book, Woman and Her Master, Sydney Owenson makes the following observation:

As the acquirement of a physical elevation, in expanding the sphere of vision, and opening new and vast regions to the sense, obscures and diminishes the individual details comprehended in its grasp; so that intellectual and moral elevation, which has opened to the mind’s eye the wider fields of scientific research and of social combination, has caused the relative value of the smaller facts presented to its apprehension to be either overlooked, or mistaken. Society has become complicated more rapidly than philosophy and legislation can follow; the actions of man upon man, and those of the species upon nature, have multiplied faster than observation can co-ordinate, or reason control; until a positive advance has assumed the appearance of a relative retrogradation. (Woman and Her Master, p. 15)

The global network of intellectual thought feeds upon innovation within the consciousness of humanity. As one notion spirals to form a new idea, the resulting awareness creates new perspectives on issues not perceived within the current reality of some communities. Knowledge gained from sharing this new awareness provides more communities with intellectual capabilities to affect a positive change. 

Bluebird Dream

Years ago, TFE's Poetry Bus  had Kate the Emerging Writer as its driver. She provided us with three excellent prompts, and I chose to apply my own version of l'esprit d'escalier for Prompt III and a little of Prompt II, too, so I guess this was a combo plate. For those unfamiliar with bluebirds, they are the most beautiful little birds on the planet. Below, I've included a photo of one that I took from my living room window... for your viewing pleasure.

Bluebird perched on a maple tree branch

Bluebird Dream

Letting the pen fall,

she sighed into a dream.

There, her responses

were perfectly timed

and no one left the room

unaffected.

She was strong, efficient.

Perseverance was her game.

Not one soul

would even consider

challenging her decisions.

They wouldn’t dare.

A bluebird awakened her.

So small, beautiful

iridescent blue

and sweetly chirping.

Suddenly, it darted past her

and again in the other direction.

Soon, she saw a pair of wings

much larger, bolder.

That bird flew high and away.

The bluebird perched

on a limb of the maple tree,

panting, confident, dreaming.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

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

Sydney Owenson (Lady Morgan): 19th Century Awareness of Cultural Change

           

I took this photo of Sydney Owenson's memorial plaque on Kildare Street, Dublin, Ireland.

From pages 17-18 of my book: 

Revolutionary philosophy of the sixteenth through nineteenth centuries provides momentum for the transformation of consciousness, circuitous pathways of innovation and circularity within societal parameters, creating awareness of cultural change, often through literary articulation. 

During the long eighteenth century, Sydney Owenson constructs her national tales by configuring lexical combinations of Irish, English and European colloquialisms, drawing upon the historical and philosophical perceptions of René Descartes and Immanuel Kant to transform her romantic tales into narratives of political inquiry. 

Her voice maintains a necessary fortitude in terms of her unique perspective, placing Irish ideology into the center of English culture at the onset of the Ascendancy, while she illustrates foresight in challenging the political stance of the United Kingdom in the early decades of the nineteenth century.

Ha' Penny Bridge, Dublin, Ireland

A Doe's Vision

 

A resting buck, photo from Google Images

I wrote this poem directly after viewing a young buck with antlers just emerging, find a shaded spot in the wooded glen right outside my window. He didn't know I was observing him, and he looked so peaceful, just resting there among the trees on the softened earth. He reminded me of my own 'buck,' my son, who at the time was a pre-teen...thus, the poem: 

A Doe's Vision

Rest, young buck, now rest.
Do not fear that I am watching you.
Your life is safe within my eyes.
Yes, be careful and aware
of all the new and strange annoyances
surrounding you.
Now search for that tranquility.
Nourish your body and soul.
Relax, for soon the changes come, 
and your precious, budding years
will all be gone.
Rest, my young and precious buck.
My loving eyes adore you.
Worry not.
You have found safe harbor 
in my eyes. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

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

Sensuality of the Morning Garden

One 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 a 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 ones we have had here recently 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 my operetta, Luminescence, which might reveal a sensorial view of morning in this magical garden.  

Morning Recitative

(from my operetta, Luminescence)

Lush overgrowth 
forms an inspiring, prolific canopy

Tender petals compete

for limited radiance

of the morning’s brilliance.

Abandoned

by inheritors of this fertile land,

the garden flourishes independently 
in floral splendor.

A cooling brook meanders

through the twisted, scented undergrowth,

creating a reflective ribbon,

adorning this Eden 
with bubbling ballads.

Elegant, colorful bouquets embellish

fertile banks with a natural brilliance.

Soothing resonance musically honors the presence

of Divine intelligence.

Flowers open their petals,

attracting the arrival of winged courtiers,

who pollinate their eager pistils.

They clamor close to the wall,

reflecting wisdom of the struggle

to remain vibrant in this forgotten place.

Their beauty blends resplendent

color with fragrance,

giving the garden vitality,

as one more day brings a splendid luster

into the chaos of the untamed garden.

© 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 Sonnet: Four Soles, Soulful Foursome

This precious photo displays two young boys, one holding the reigns, one holding a beloved dog, on a cart, pulled by a devoted mule. As another example of ekphrasis, the photo is one on which I've based my sonnet, written in a Spenserian Sonnet format from the 16th century English poet, Edmund Spenser.

For fun, click onto: Billy Collins former United States Poet Laureate, to read his satirical view of sonnets, cleverly entitled, "Sonnet."

Four Soles,  Soulful Foursome

Idyllically, they travel with an aim

and quickly learn that truth rests in a friend, 

for surely, they’ll discover life’s no game. 

A splendid road will definitely bend. 

These traveling souls of four know not of end, 

for they rely on trusting gifts of love: 

one pulls with strength, one’s job is to attend: 

two brothers with one dog, blessed from above 

with dreams conjoined like wings that lift the dove. 

Four souls of spirit and vitality

advance with might and shared awareness of

their vision for determined liberty.

A humble vessel pulled by four strong soles,

transporting dreams, fulfilling simple goals.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos