Beatles, the

Masako Kamiya

Beatles, the
Music band with four players.

On the occasion of the Beatles
      entering the 21st century
      of music distribution via streaming -- 
this singular shift brought with it a desire
      (and ability) to hear every song, 
      on every album from 1962 to 1970.

After listening to their oeuvre,
two things were undeniable: 
They played their instruments
with a fierce determined abandon
      in service to their songs. 
And so many of the Beatles songs
      are about love. 

So performance and love.
These two aspects have lionized the Beatles.

Mastering a craft.
Pouring every ounce of the soul into it.
Adding that ambiguous chameleon of a word, 
      love, to the story.
It's a good mix that perhaps is responsible
      for the Beatles legacy...

- this poem mailed to Montana - 

Video on YouTube..
 

War

Richard Serra - Inside Out - 2013, weatherproof steel

War
Is it worth anything
war
Brutal, bloody, blind allegiance, primal.
pushes people to bend morals,
say okay to atrocities.

Is life ever better because of war..
The intellect proclaims to upholding freedoms, ways of life.
That path is questionable. 
Does war enable - or ultimately disable..
The price is heavy for winners, heavy for losers.
war is heavy on life.

I don't believe in war anymore.
The toll upon citizens confounds and disrupts the heart; win and lose.
people are people are people
but ignorance of other ways of living
makes people afraid -- so, war.
I don't believe in it anymore.
 

- This poem mailed to Idaho - 

Electric

Egon Schiele

Electric
No electricity for
the latter half of a day
renders habits unattainable.
Electricity is required to feed the habits.
After accepting that power is unobtainable,
a different kind of electric
becomes available.

Candles and old wine come out - 
talk around race, politics, religion -
with (whom else but) the one you love.
The only distraction is
another thought wanting to be heard.

Closeness comes about
with a remembered strength.
The brain feels lighter, determined, scintillated.
Electric emotion cascades through the body.
Love and new-seeds are planted.
The electricity is off
yet the electric connection is full-on.

- This poem was mailed to Nevada - 

Video on YouTube...
 

Alternate

Dorothea Rockburne

Alternate
Seeking an alternate route,                    girl says
The route demands more,                      boy says
I want a route that gives more,               boy says
The route that gives, comforts,              girl says
Moving comfortably consumes,             girl says
Alternate demands attention,                 boy says
It grows something - makes me seek,   boy says

girl says
Yes, the changing and demanding route challenges.
It puts an edge before the eyes.
You learn it, then you know it, but as you use it
obscurity fades while ease and satisfaction arrive.
It's exciting the alternate route.
Or at least it can be maneuvered to excite.

oh,                                                             boy says.

- this poem was sent to California - 

Video on YouTube..

baby-drive-love

Wayne Thiebaud

baby-drive-love
          put a baby in the car
    and drive drive drive until the baby
can drive and vote and go to jail and love.

          Yes yes the babe always can
    love, but improbably without
observing the process and procedures of love. 

          What kind of love is perceived,
    is understood, is adopted -- it's
mostly impossible to know for sure. But

          evidently if you put
    a baby in the car and drive drive
drive, that baby might grow to love just like you.

- this poem was sent to Oregon -

YouTube video..
 

Silence

Edmund De Waal

Silence
Just sitting, crouching, in a corner.
Silence desired [please].
It sinks in, gaining weight, heavy like deep water pressure.

Little ideas start pinching the brain.
go away please.
But silence encourages them.
They wiggle, expanding into provocations. 

The heart starts moving blood faster.
The silence gets bolder, noisier.
Thoughts start to tumble on themselves;
multiplying uncontrollably.

That quiet silence is now a tumultuous raucous.
But nothing has changed.
Still sitting, crouched, in a corner.
Crave for a silence, absorb the noise
and in the balance, find heart.

- this poem was sent to Washington -