Thursday, December 17, 2009

It Doesn’t Rhyme

The dawn light embalms a nameless husk
She looks an awful lot like me except for the smile
My loneliness echoes on into the coming dusk
If only I have somewhere to go
I am sitting alone in an industrious world
Staring into the flame of a candle
I’ve closed my mind about the past
Open doors do not always lead to new beginnings
Open doors do not always lead home
This is not my home and I shout to empty walls
While those sad songs keep playing
Set on repeat, again and again; looping
Running over every moment through my mind
Old thoughts, hopes, and dreams lost
I know they wouldn’t last
Just more transparent ordinary hours
I am wishing on stars I have never seen
Believing one day the sun will rise again
I wait in vain for a dawn that may not come
And remain still a nameless husk
Walking amongst million of others
Just like me
Seeking their own identity
No longer wanting to be nameless
Reality shrieks- I am just another face in the crowd

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

SCREAMINGbetweenLINES

She the BEAUTIFUL marionette
dances on silver fabled STRINGS
to the tune OF
his LIES

MAYBE next year
HE’LL marry her

Five years
a PROMISE ring
bound HER finger

WHITE flag
stained with stale blood
red as ROSES
SHE
never RECEIVED
only THORNS instead
PIERCING parables
of love

A story FABLED
from the beginning

five years flew by
a long time holds onto
nothing but
an empty PROMISE

time SAVES
all but
NONE
at least
not HER

WASTED moments
in DESPAIR
the FRACTURES vein
THROUGH a broken mirror
five YEARS bad luck

SHATTERED complexions
WITH many eyes
staring back
at HER expressionless gaze
the true REFLECTION
OF
her heart

the hour glass
never did hold
TIME

silica chases silica
on the WHISPERING
winds OF eternity

A once false hope
now whispers TRUTH
with CERTAINTY

he loves her
but is not in love
with her

similarly
her heart ECHOES
the same sentiment
amongst SILENT beats

one marionette string
now breaks
under the tensions
of VERACITY

her tears WASHING
away THE blurred vision
of a FANTASY
she ONCE
BELIEVED

on the horizon
a CLEAN slate

SHE IS STUCK
too hard to go forward
not worth going back

NOT KNOWING
how to begin again
HOW TO START OVER
remaining strings now dissolve
BUT A MARIONETTE NO LONGER!

©2009 L.Warren

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Unto the Edge of Edges

Here I am again standing in a familiar spot. My mind and heart are neither here nor there, but running about feverishly everywhere- in too many different directions for me to keep up. I have been here before, many times before. I stand here at this point near the beginning which is the very same point found near the ending. I know that without a beginning there can be no ending and without an ending there is no beginning. Time divides where an object or an area begins and ends. Time is the brink between that which is here and there, past and present, life and death, endings and beginnings. Time is the edgeless point that defines where everything is forever and forever is at the edge of all edges.

I am stuck at this point not sure which direction to take. Do I step forward into a new beginning or do I step back into the familiar territory of an old ending? How could two different directions, two different steps be so different and yet the same? Chances do not present themselves without risks being taken and regrets come to full power when opportunities are missed. There can be no beginnings or endings without risks being taken and opportunities being seized or let go.

Some follow their hearts and some follow their minds, but me, I wait for that right time. A time when my mind catches up to my heart, that very moment when both come to together and meet me on the very spot I stand right now. Opportunity that presents itself during such an alignment as heart and mind is certainly worth taking. It is a rare occurrence, I know, if logic and emotion were ever to meet harmoniously in the middle-never say never, there is always a possibility for wonderful occurrences to happen. Surely a meeting such as this is a promise of finally being able to step forward and capture a moment of forever.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Jumping Off Bridges with the 29th Prime and Sonnet 109

My mind has been working feverishly at contemplating many of my usual conceptual complexities. Laws of synchronicities and coincidences, recurrence, soul mates, Gematria occurrences, and the likes all are par for the course when it comes to the many musing that whirl about in my head. Last night I found myself considering the number 109 and I really not sure why. I think it started when I was researching some ideas I had come across in regards to soul mates. I stumbled upon a web page where the author discusses a Love Sequence based on the Fibonacci equation sequences. His concept was at first difficult to grasp and I admit my math skills are trivial at best, but he spent countless hours researching graphing and charting his ideas. His findings were interesting and a bit exaggerated but they aroused my curiosity enough to cause me research his concepts further.

The number 109 has a lot of symbolism to it, both in the occult world, masonry, Bible, Torah, and other religious text. It is the 29th prime number as well as being a Chen Prime. 109 is a Prime Number. In math concepts 109 can be Partitioned 55 times with each term no larger than 2. The Number 109 can be Partitioned 1045 times with each term no larger than 3. It is a Centered Triangular Number as well as a Centered 18-gonal Number. The number 109 is also a Centered 36-gonal Number.

109 is also a very unique number because it is also a relevant number with in the Fibonacci series in which case 109 displays the forward and backward sequences and this is further exemplified by the fact that it is a repeating decimal fraction with 108 characters! We are able to see the beginning of the Fibonacci sequence in the LAST 6 digits of the decimal equivalent of 1/109, appearing in REVERSE order starting from the END of the decimal. (i.e., 0,1,1,2,3,5, 8 appears as ...853211). We can take each Fibonacci number, divide it by 10 raised to the power of 109 MINUS its position in the Fibonacci sequence (starting with 0) and add them all together, you get the reciprocal of 109.I know I am probably going out on a limb here as I explore the relevancies of this theory. We can further see a uniqueness in the number 109 when we take another Fibonacci number and divide it by 10 raised to the power of its position in the Fibonacci sequence and add and subtract each alternate term together you get .00917431 which is yet the reciprocal of 109 again. Interesting!

In Chemistry Atomic number 109 represents the chemical element Meitnerium, which is a synthetic element that is produced in small quantities by high-energy ion bombardment, making it a radioactive transuranic element. Then there are specific meanings applied to the number 109 within Gematria that also prove to be very interesting. Within Hebrew Gematria the number 109 has come to hold a number of significant meanings; "Brother of a King", Brother of a Gift", “to be about to take or lay hold of”, “to break forth, to be bright”, "Yah Redeems", "Appointment”, “to eat or devour”, “a store-house, granary”, “quiet, stillness; comfort or ease; settlement (in life or marriage); quietly; resting place”, “a sheath; a body (as the soul's sheath)”, “to be dark”, and “to cover or hide”, are a few of those meanings I have researched. There still is a lot more symbolism that pertains to the number 109 in Masonic codes, and other religious texts, but I will spare you the trouble of having to read all of that. I am sure there are now many of you either baffled or utterly convinced by now that I am insane.

The very fact of the matter is that despite all the verbose paragraphs preceding this one, there was a reason to the relevancy of my interest in the number 109 and it has once again to do with synchronicity and coincidence. I could have obliterated all the paragraphs before this one, but it wouldn’t have been as fun to write. There is also a certain twisted humor for me, in the thought of all you actually trying to read what I have written and making sense of it. During my studies of that number 109 I “accidentally” found William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 109. Sonnet 109 is extremely symbolic to me in regards to the current themes of “temptation, original sin, and love loss” that have been reoccurring in my blogs. I have also been heavily influenced by what has been going on in the media in regards to Tiger Wood’s ordeal. Frankly it has really bothered me, so please keep that in consideration as you read this blog and some of the ones that precede this.

Sonnet 109
O never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seemed my flame to qualify.
As easy might I from myself depart
As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie.
That is my home of love; if I have ranged,
Like him that travels I return again,
Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
So that myself bring water for my stain.
Never believe, though in my nature reigned
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
That it could so preposterously be stained
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good.
  For nothing this wide universe I call,
  Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all.

I have always loved this particular Sonnet and the deeper meaning I see in it. I am surprised I didn’t recall it when I first began pondering on the number 109. Again, it is coincidence that I would happen to revisit this piece again, this time with a renewed interest. I admit that I was quit piqued the very first time I read this poem back during my freshman year of college. The understanding I had of this poem at this time was that the poet was revealing how his feelings for a “lover” cool when he is away. Allowing him to partake in many infidelities and he admits that he knows it is wrong but cannot help himself yet proclaims that his love for his “rose” has been strengthened on account of his error or as he calls, his stain.

I should also make note that the particular professor I had during this course was an extreme feminist, naturally she was inclined to persuade our thinking in her direction of thought. She was constantly bashing men every chance she got and Shakespeare sure made it easy with these particular sonnet. I think it is relevant to point her “fem-Nazi” sentiment because later on in my college years I came across the same sonnet this time during a philosophy class being taught by a professor who was openly bisexual. This is interesting because he was one of those who believed that Shakespeare was bisexual if not homosexual and all the sonnets from 109-112 pay homage to Shakespeare’s erotic interest in men, and thus likely to persuade our thoughts in that direction. This dynamic of how your mind and way of thinking is influenced by how it is taught to you and by who is very interesting to me. I can definitely relate this aspect to how religious leaders influence our thoughts in regards to religion and spirituality.

Having matured quite a bit more from those “college” days I am inclined to take a different stance on the poem entirely but still agree that the underlying them of infidelity and sin play a significant role. I believe that the poet is merely comparing and contrasting his innocent youth with his stained adulthood. In the age of innocence he knew right and wrong and was taught to fear the possible consequences of his actions. In adulthood his innocence was no longer protected and temptation was there. Being away from home he made choices that he knew to be wrong but he identifies with them as being a part of his nature- human nature, almost as though he is using this as valediction for his actions. This thought additionally plays into my whole concept of temptation and original sin which I have written about a lot in lieu. The poet is merely apologizing to himself though not asking for forgiveness and the rose is merely a symbol for his innocent youth.

Lines 3-4: = 'It would be as easy for me to separate myself from myself as it would be for me to separate myself from you (my true self- his youth), i.e., it would be impossible'.
Line 5. my home of love - the beloved place to which I always return; my base; my essential being; the core of love, which is my starting and ending point-ranged = wandered, (a euphemism for promiscuity).
Line 6. like him that travels - the phrase may be taken (promiscuously) with what proceeds and what follows.

Think about your youth and how protected and guarded you were in your thinking. Perhaps you were indoctrinated by very religious parents with overbearing fundamental ideals that they passed on to you or used them to set fear in your mind. I remember my youth and the promises I made to myself regarding being a good wholesome person, most of those ideas being enhanced by my parents teachings as well as religious/spiritual beliefs that I was taught. When adulthood came I did break many of these set guidelines I had for myself, but in doing so I learned more about myself, and though I came to regret some of those decisions I certainly didn’t feel as though I needed forgiveness for them. While there are some choices I will forever be guilty about making I am still left thinking if I would be a different person today had I not taken those risks, had I not been tempted to act upon urges.
I still miss that innocence I once had and know that it is in that thought that I still have a “home” where I can seek comfort and security when the world around me gets to unbearable. I still have that bit of youth and with it a certain innocence that is still there deep within me that helps me deal with my adulthood complexities. Like the poet in Sonnet 109, I have sinned and I am stained and I realize that my in “stains” have made me a better person. I have never cheated on a loved one but I have cheated on myself…we all are guilty of that! We must also understand that there is still an innocent rose somewhere deep within all of us that calls us home and comforts us.

Yet the whole trouble I have with this sonnet that it allows me to see my own willingness to accept my sins and in a sense wear my “stain” proudly. Yet the irony here is this bothers me in itself because if everyone were to so willingly accept their mistakes and not seek forgiveness but wear their stains proudly like badges of honor, is this not bad? It is like that age old analogy of “jumping off bridges” if you see one person do it, does it make it all right for you to do it too? So, as you can see it tears me in two and I am left now with more questions than I had when I first started writing this.

Accepting sins thus makes them okay and lessens the weight of guilt and remorse, which can be a dangerous way to live one’s life. I picture the spoiled child whose mother tells him she is not going to give him his lollipop if he doesn’t behave, the child doesn’t behave because he knows his mom will still give him the lollipop. Therefore he has learned nothing in regards to control urges and tantrums because he still gets what he wants in the end. This child grows up to become an adult who goes about doing what he wants in the world with little regard to his behavior and the feelings of others, it’s okay in the end as long as he still gets what he wants.
When ascertaining these deductions of mine I know I must keep in mind that this is entirely subjective thinking on my part and that each person may have their own interpretation of Sonnet 109. I am sure there are some of you who feel I have gone way out on a limb, which I probably have, because that is where my mind likes to take me. Analyzing poetry is like analyzing a painting and the way you interpret it depends solely on how that work is interacting with you.
This concept of analysis is dependent upon the highly personal relationship and dialogue that goes on between an observer and this particular sonnet. In short, having said all of that, I now conclude this lengthy blog here, although I am still contemplating that leap from the proverbial bridge with the 29th Prime and Sonnet 109! There is still much to be learned about the number 109.

A Morning Musing #1

The Serpentine Mind
Disentangles
From branches of confusion
Uncoils its knowldge to greet the dawn
And sees
In growing light

Great colored, feathered wings
That grew unnoticed in its sleep

Understanding perfectly
In a single rush of joy

It flies above the ancient promises
Beyond where the forest lies
To the sea
The open sea

As rings around the Morning Star
Light corridors through the air
-Quetzalcoatl

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Cheese and Wine; Afflictions of an AD/HD Mind


Like cheese and wine, children need time to develop
©2007 L.Warren
“One, two, three, four, I think I can make it to one hundred this time, five, six, seven, I hope he’ll notice how hard I am trying to pay attention. Eight, nine, ten, I am sitting on my hands so I won’t fidget, eleven, twelve, thirteen, I have my feet wrapped around my chair legs so I won’t tap my toes. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, my mom will be so proud of me today, seven, I miss my dog, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, I’m…….”
Lyndsey, Lyndsey, earth to Lyndsey, can you tell the class how I arrived at this answer for the multiplication problem on the board?” Mr. Brooker’s voice entirely shattered the concentration effort I was so completely focused on. I looked blankly at the blackboard, having no clue that we were even in the midst of a multiplication lesson. Panic, fear, and the crippling grip of being totally inescapably overwhelmed stunted any attempt I would try to make to gain control of the situation I was in. I was doomed! I shutdown, I didn’t respond, I sat their looking dumbfounded and praying to God that everyone in the class would stop looking at me. At that moment all I wanted to do was disappear somewhere far away and cry. Mr. Brooker, as always, like so many of my other teachers, merely shook his head in disappointment and said, “Is there anyone who can explain it to us, perhaps someone who was paying attention?” The sarcasm in his tone cut my young soul in two.
I had told myself to keep my eyes on the teacher, to see if I could do so for one hundred seconds, that way he would surely see that I was truly paying attention. The problem was, I needed to concentrate so completely on the task that I didn’t even comprehend a darn thing Mr. Brooker was teaching. Instruction eluded me again, as it always did. This happened a lot during my schooling it happened a lot outside my schooling in fact the simple truth of the matter is it happened all the time.
This inescapable reality of mine left me bitter with resentment, left me feeling like I was stupid, a failure, left me feeling like I was different and left out from everybody else. Why couldn’t I get it, why couldn’t I understand and focus on what the teachers were teaching the class? How did everyone else do this? How did they manage? How come they were able to control their thoughts and feelings and stay focused? Why wasn’t I just like everybody else? A deep-seeded self-hatred began to take root a hatred that would become a large part of my early foundation, a hatred that would take all the energy I could muster- everything I had in me, to control and attempt to overcome much later in my life. A struggle that for the most part, was a silent struggle and no one around me, even those closest to me, would have any idea of what was truly going on within me. It hurt so much, to be so misunderstood, especially as a small child!
The very thing that troubled my childhood so terribly and still causes me anguish today, has a name and it is a name that causes teachers to roll their eyes when they get their class lists at the beginning of the year, saying things like, “good grief I have to have that child in my class! She can’t focus and he can’t sit still! My class is going to be hell this year because of “that” child!” It causes parents to react in denial at school conferences and make excuses for their child’s behavior and lack of attention, excuses that sometimes keeps their very child from getting the very help he or she needs to succeed in school. No one wants to be different and no parent wants to hear their child is different. It is a thing that is quickly “fixed” with strong medications often before any attempts are made to try and deal with it naturally-tragically this occurs at a young age. This horrible awful thing has a name, its Attention Deficit Disorder and a more extreme version of it is called Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. I have Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder Inattentive Type.
During my childhood the whole concept of AD/HD was relatively new and still virtually unheard of by the mainstream. Children like me were not understood and many teachers and parents were continually frustrated by us. I remember spending a great deal of time standing on the wall at recess because I had lost my “playtime” privileges because of bad behavior or my inattentiveness. I don’t even remember many of the malicious things I had done to merit the frequent wall visits all I remember is standing on the wall and watching the other children having fun. I remember an elementary math teacher of mine was so upset with my inattentiveness that she had me go sit in a dark storage room located behind her classroom, just so she didn’t have to deal with me-she even shut the door. Once in middle school I spent an entire month by myself eating my lunch on the stage that faced the cafeteria in front of all my peers while they ate their lunches, talk about being ostracized!
You are probably reading this and thinking that I must have been a hellion when I was a child, but that is not the case. In all actuality I was extremely shy, rarely made eye contact with anyone, and tried my best to not bring any attention to myself. In fact I spent so much time concentrating on not being noticed that I neglected the valuable instruction time. Group work was my favorite thing in the world, as it allowed me to blend in and take a back seat while the other kids did the work. Though I never took part in the oral presentations or the discussions, I was highly artistic and creative along with being a good writer so I was usually the one asked to make the posters and write the report once all the other students put the notes together. I excelled in art and English during my schooling and thoroughly enjoyed those subjects. Art allowed me to escape my reality and writing gave me a silent voice that easily flowed between the lines of my notebooks- a much needed release. I did get good grades in schools but they came at a high price. My parents sent me to tutors and programs like Sylvan Learning so I could get a "double dose" of instruction to make sure I made up for what I missed in school.
AD/HD made my childhood complicated and the complications it caused became the foundation I grew up on. Unfortunately it shaped the person I would become. Fortunately, it shaped the person I am today. I say fortunately because the very thing that drove me so mad throughout my life has also been the very thing that brings purpose and meaning to my life. I loved art before I could walk having grown up with a mother who was landscape and seascape painter in addition to being an educator. The mere act of creating brought a certain comfort to me that helped me cope with my AD/HD.
I continue to love art today because it is my escape from an everyday reality that often leaves me overwhelmed and anxiety ridden. Art allows me the freedom to experience fully, reflect freely, and represent my inner voice and feelings without fear. The act of being creative is incredibly healing and this is something I instantly connected with as a child. I am very shy in person and the truth is that even though I am open in my writing (another creative outlet for me) I probably wouldn’t go out of my way to speak to anyone I don’t really know in person. I find it easier to text and email friends than dealing with face-to-face conversations. I was asked recently why I decided to get a Masters in Art Education and go into teaching. My response was short, simple, and to the point, “It was because I hated school and I wanted to bring enjoyment to those who struggle today, like I once did!” AD/HD is where I found a love of art, a love for animals, and a love for working with children.
I love working with children because they are easy to talk to and so forgiving, not so unlike animals. The healing power of art is what led me to many discoveries about myself and human nature. Art helped me step outside of myself and become more accepting of myself and this is something I so desperately want the children I work with to experience! Art allows us to connect with our state of mind that is intensely conscious of both inner experience and of the prompting of the outer world. The creation of art is not based in fear or wariness of the world but in wonder and awareness of the potential to act and interact with the world.
Art gives us the courage to allow our anxieties to release themselves. Carl Rodgers spent many years studying creativity and during his studies he identified anxiety as a necessary component of the creative process-as the maker takes responsibility for formulating and working through a problem (1961). Anxiety is something I know all too well. Anxiety is often the bane of my existence and complicates my daily activities has been a devastating root of evil in my personal and romantic relationships. It is something I struggle to deal with continually.
Aside from art I found an affinity for animals especially dogs and horses because of my AD/HD. I connected with them instantly as a young child, never worried about what they thought of me, I could be me. Most kids, especially high school kids, wanted to “hang-out” and be “social”, but not me. I found my first job at a local riding stable when I was still in middle school and was working “under the table” usually in trade for riding lessons up through high school. I worked at the barn every morning before school and spent my whole weekend there. Mucking stalls, feeding, and riding and enjoying the quiet solitude I found amongst my equine friends. It was such a therapeutic experience and I became very close with many of the horses that were labeled “difficult” and my bond with them didn’t go unnoticed by the trainers there, who frequently allowed me to work these horses.
While working with these horses and the trainers I was taught many training techniques that I would find myself later modifying to use in my classroom with my own students-the human kind. During graduate school I began training “troubled horses” usually horses I found abused and broken at the local racetracks of MD and VA. Working with these horses also led me to discover that human emotion wasn’t so different from the emotions I found in my horses. I began to notice the signs of abuse and neglect in many of the children I worked with and I instantly felt that there was something I could do to make their lives better. That “something” was and will continue to be art!
Rogers, C.R. (1961) Toward a theory of creativity. In On becoming a person. New York: Houghton Mifflin

Lithospheric Limbo the Earth Dance

The earth is a living breathing entity, the foundation of life, the very essence of the collective whole which encompasses the very need it has to be respected as such. She is constantly changing and evolving. Some of what we, humanity does, will in fact bear the consequences of influencing and hastening these changes. But humanity is not entirely to blame, despite what our collective ego’s like to believe, or what our crooked politicians like to preach in order to sway the voting populace.

No, humans are not to be blamed entirely or be deemed responsible for all of the changes that are continually happening in the world around us. At least, this is how I perceive these changes from my dabbling in Earth Science studies and my “logical” understanding of cause and effect, Law and Order, and of Chaos Theory. What was once desert is now ocean floor, forest now wetlands, plains now rain forest, etc, etc, etc. The earth lives moment by moment in cycles- cycles of time, always evolving, never ceasing. We humans cannot control this, try as we might we are not Gods, we will never be capable of harnessing Nature. The only thing we can truly harness is the knowledge of living with her in a symbiotic harmonious relationship.

So, as we, a collective humanity, spend much time debating and contemplating Global Warming and our destruction over earth’s natural resources, shouldn’t we also focus on living with earth’s changes and how to lessen the effect we have on those changes, especially the naturally occurring ones? Let us not waste precious time contemplating how to control that which is beyond our control, we need to let go of our egos! Logic also tells me that we cannot control nature; for she has her own will her own predetermined course and she will continue to run her course with or without us.

Nature is a large thread within the web of Time. Time and Nature are very much alike both play an integral role within the infinite scheme of life. Nature, like Time, will forever be a virgin to captivity, just out of our reach, well beyond our control. Nature only humbles and allows herself to be manipulated to a degree, but never is she willing to give herself over entirely. Should we push her too far, she will push us back, and the question remains, to what brink will she push us towards? Should we continue the down our current path of trying to be in constant control of her, what lesson will she teach us? What message will she send and will they be more violent than those she has already sent?

Nature has her ways, she ultimately decides which species survives and which do not, so far she has been ever kind to a failing humanity. She is in control of her being and can we as humans accept this? Can we live with this? In the grand scheme of things she has been very vigilant and accommodating with her changes and continually evolving nature. The glaciers are melting, the tides are rising, erosion patterns continue, tectonic plates are ever shifting, the inevitable is happening all around us, every day, every minute, ever second, as Time continues on it ways.The earthhas already begun her accommodations for the largest changes she has in store for herself. So as temperatures change across the earth and tides rise Africa prepares for the birth of its newest ocean.The earth has her own plans you see and there isn’t anything mere humans can do about it. The earth is a beautiful creature, repect her as such!© 2009 L.Warren