The Peacemaker's Time

6 year old Ben explains Hanukkah
#philadelphiapublicschools

Light one candle for the wisdom to know
when the peacemaker's time is at hand . . .

Advent Calendar

He will come like last leaf's fall.
One night when the November wind
has flayed the trees to the bone, and earth
wakes choking on the mould,
the soft shroud's folding.

He will come like frost.
One morning when the shrinking earth
opens on mist, to find itself
arrested in the net
of alien, sword-set beauty.

He will come like dark.
One evening when the bursting red
December sun draws up the sheet
and penny-masks its eye to yield
the star-snowed fields of sky.

He will come, will come,
will come like crying in the night,
like blood, like breaking,
as the earth writhes to toss him free.
He will come like child.

Rowan Williams (b 1950)
104th Archbishop of Canterbury, 2002 - 2012

IV
Chorus from For The Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio

He is the Way.
Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness;
You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures.

He is the Truth.
Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;
You will come to a great city that has expected your return for years.

He is the Life.
Love Him in the World of the Flesh;
And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.

W. H. Auden / see also

Happy Bat - stille Day!

Pere Lachaise Cemetery Bat*

Private rites of magic . . .
An imaginary friend . . .
the Ancient Disciplines . . .

Unendowed with wealth or pity,
Little birds [and bats?] with scarlet legs . . .

~ W. H. Auden ~
from "The Fall of Rome"

**************

Montmartre Grave Diggers*

"The woman named Tomorrow . . . takes her time . . .
and drawls: Well, what of it?
My grandmother, Yesterday, is gone.
What of it? Let the dead be dead."

~ Carl Sandburg ~
from "Four Preludes On Playthings of the Wind"

***************

You can read the complete text of these
"Two Poems for Bastille Day"
on the
The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker
A fortnightly [every 14th & 28th]
literary blog of connection & coincidence; custom & ceremony

*Thanks to my friend Steven La Vigne
for sharing his Paris photography
~ Summer 2012 ~

"Altogether elsewhere . . . "

Let's Hope It's a Good One

"Please Play on the Grass"

Thank You Dallas, Texas, for being so User Friendly!
31 December 2012

None of us are as young
as we were. So what?
Friendship never ages.
~ W. H. Auden ~
Another year older . . . another year over. John and Yoko's Christmas song is also one of the most hopeful New Year song's that I know . . .

Happy Xmas (War is Over)
by John Lennon & Yoko Ono, 1971

So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun

And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear [emphasis added]

And so this is Christmas (war is over)
For weak and for strong (if you want it)
For rich and the poor ones (war is over)
The world is so wrong* (if you want it)
And so happy Christmas (war is over)
For black and for white (if you want it)
For yellow and red ones (war is over)
Let's stop all the fight (now)

A very Merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

And so this is Christmas (war is over)
And what have we done (if you want it)
Another year over (war is over)
A new one just begun (if you want it)
And so happy Christmas (war is over)
We hope you have fun (if you want it)
The near and the dear one (war is over)
The old and the young (now)

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

War is over over
If you want it
War is over

*or "the road is so long"
or "the war is so wrong"
or "the war is so long"

Departmental [From my collection:"A Poem for Every Poem"]

THE UNKNOWN CITIZEN

(To JS/07 M 378

This Marble Monument Is Erected by the State)

He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be
One against whom there was no official complaint,
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a saint,
For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
Except for the War till the day he retired
He worked in a factory and never got fired,
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn't a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Instalment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into Public Opinion are content
That he held the proper opinions for the time of year;
When there was peace, he was for peace: when there was war, he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his generation.
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their education.
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.

by W. H. Auden



DEPARTMENTAL

OR,

THE END OF MY ANT JERRY

An ant on the tablecloth
Ran into a dormant moth
Of many times his size.
He showed not the least surprise.
His business wasn't with such.
He gave it scarcely a touch,
And was off on his duty run.
Yet if he encountered one
Of the hive's enquiry squad
Whose work is to find out God
And the nature of time and space,
He would put him onto the case.
Ants are a curious race;
One crossing with hurried tread
The body of one of their dead
Isn't given a moment's arrest-
Seems not even impressed.
But he no doubt reports to any
With whom he crosses antennae,
And they no doubt report
To the higher-up at court.
Then word goes forth in Formic:
"Death's come to Jerry McCormic,
Our selfless forager Jerry.
Will the special Janizary
Whose office it is to bury
The dead of the commissary
Go bring him home to his people.
Lay him in state on a sepal.
Wrap him for shroud in a petal.
Embalm him with ichor of nettle.
This is the word of your Queen."
And presently on the scene
Appears a solemn mortician;
And taking formal position,
With feelers calmly atwiddle,
Seizes the dead by the middle,
And heaving him high in air,
Carries him out of there.
No one stands round to stare.
It is nobody else's affair
It couldn't be called ungentle
But how thoroughly departmental

by Robert Frost

*Photographs taken yesterday near S. Las Vegas Blvd.

The Time Being

~~ Reminds Gerry of his grandfather's "Old House" in England ~~
Urban Garden Under Snow
by Douglas Percy Bliss (Scottish Painter, 1900 - 84)
*******************************************

"But while we often like to comfort
or flatter ourselves with the thought that the future is now,
the brute truth is, the future is not now. The present is now.
The future is later -- in some cases much later."

quotation from the humorous little book,
Santa Lives! Five Conclusive Arguments
for the Existence of Santa Claus
by wry humorist Elllis Weiner (b 1950)
Coauthor of Yiddish with Dick and Jane and The Joy of Worry
*******************************************
Similarly the poet W. H. Auden writes:

"But, for the time being, here we all are . . .

The Time Being is, in a sense, the most trying time of all . . .

In the meantime
There are bills to be paid, machines to keep in repair,
Irregular verbs to learn, the Time Being to redeem
From insignificance."

lines from
For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio
by W. H. Auden (1907 - 73)
Anglo-American poet
Born in England, later an American citizen
******************************************

The theme of Auden's poem is just right for "The Quotidian Kit." The Time Being is just so daily, so commonly thought small. William F. French explains it very well in his analysis of the poem, concluding that we

" . . . are so accustomed to thinking of the moral life in the flash-and-bang terms of dramatic decisions and heroic choices that our daily routines and quiet virtues are regarded as morally insignificant.

"But Auden is no fool. His humor is designed to remind us that our attitude to our own limitations may govern how we respond to the harsh times of tragic choices. Auden’s comic voice reminds us that patience may well be a quiet form of courage, and self-awareness and humility contain a silent power all their own. In redeeming the everyday, he reminds us that moral heroism need not always be dramatically displayed."

concluding paragraph from
"Auden’s Moral Comedy: A Late-Winter Reading"
by ethics professor William F. French (click to read)
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CLICK TO READ ADDITIONAL
POST - CHRISTMAS POETRY
BY W. H. AUDEN & STEVE TURNER
DAVID AXELROD & SAM POTTLE

ON THE FORTNIGHTLY KITTI CARRIKER:
LITERARY BLOG OF CONNECTION & COINCIDENCE