What’s on Your Mind?

(c) Joseph Saling 2020

I said I was coming back, and here I am. Thanks to all of you who’ve been patient enough to look in from time to time and not give up. Thanks also to those who have prodded me. And, yes, I did need it. It’s not that I didn’t have anything to say. It’s rather that I couldn’t say it. My mind just keeps getting in my way.

I was talking to Sandy about what smart TVs do for us in terms of what we watch and how we watch it. What I didn’t know was that my mind was going to shut me down. Big Little Lies starring Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman, Laura Dern, and loads of other actors with names we’d recognize in instant, was the example I wanted to use. And in particular, I wanted to talk about Nicole Kidman’s performance. And BINGO. Her name wasn’t there.

And it wasn’t just her name. I was going to use the name of her husband and costar in Eyes Wide Shut — Tom Cruise, of course — to help me get her name back. But guess what, his name was gone too. I could name multiple movies we’d seen him in. I could talk about the focus on Scientology. But it was no use because both names were gone, and with them was the point I was going to make about watching smart TV.

The bottom line was I’m getting older and it’s doing bad things to my mind. I told my therapist about the incident and about how often it happens over and over. I know who these people are, but I’ve got no way to talk about them because my memory won’t give me a chance.

My therapist (whom I trust immensely) said I could see a neurologist, but odds were I’d ace all the tests. I talked to my regular doctor who echoed my therapist and told me I’d have no problem acing the tests. But she said it wouldn’t hurt to see the neurologist and that she’d refer me.

I saw him. He was young, but knowledgeable and charismatic. He told me I was not losing my mental capacity. It was just that as we get older, our mind starts to store and access memories in different ways, and there were things I could do to offset the changes. So I’m trying.

But forgetting things (including “what did I want that just made walk into the kitchen”) is not the only problem. We work out things we want to say in our mind before we actually reach for words. At least, it seems that way. But when things we ponder don’t yield themselves to words that convey what we are feeling, it becomes extremely difficult to talk about them. So here I am.

The poem below — “A Matter of Mind” — is the title poem of my book published in 2004. It can explain at least how it feels not to be able to express what you may desperately want to say.

A Matter of Mind

I had no way to tell you because words
made it a matter of mind. But that morning
two hawks in circle dance cried above me
as I longed for their wings, wished to grow wings.

Pictures, perhaps, but I was no painter
who could catch the crow flapping above mowed fields.
Nor was I a musician to make music
like the music of gulls rocked by the wind.

The mind would not do.  That night I heard owls
& felt bones of mice under foot while I let
my cigarette burn itself out, wishing
only to extinguish the mind that raced
through thought after thought like a mockingbird
caught in a web of meaningless melody.
 (c) copyright 2004 and 2020 by Joseph Saling 

Butterfly

First, you’ve got to clear your head. Because your head just keeps saying things that aren’t true. Well they are true most of the times you’re saying them. But sometimes like last Wednesday, they aren’t true. That was the day I saw the biggest, most beautiful butterfly I’d ever seen….

Continue reading

Remains of the Season

Check out this latest post at Roxi St. Clair. (And then spend some time roaming the site. You’ll be glad you did.)
It demonstrates an excellent understanding of the Haiku Sensibility and how to apply it in English poetry. The only suggestion I would make if I were editing the poem would be to consider the word “at” rather than “to” in the fifth line.

Comets

Comet Hale Bopp

Comet Hale Bopp (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Over the next few weeks, if it doesn’t destroy itself and the sun doesn’t burn it up, Comet ISON just may put on one hell of a show. Enthusiasts have already called it a “comet of the century” and dubbed it a “Great Comet.” Within just a few days, this very small space rock — only about three miles across — will slingshot around the sun, traveling at .2 the speed of light and passing within 730,000 miles of the sun’s surface. Using only gravity as a propellant, it will dance across our sky with a show that, if the predictions are even remotely accurate, will dazzle, amaze, and stay with you for a very long time.

Perhaps you’re already watching. Some people who rise early enough — at least an hour before dawn — and have a clear view of the lower eastern sky and have been tracking the comet with the aid of binoculars or a telescope have already formed a bond with this visitor from the outer reaches of our solar system. I know I’ve seen several comets in my life. But the one I most clearly remember and feel connected to is Hale-Bopp, the Great Comet  of 1997 that followed me half way around the world.

Hale-Bopp

We saw the comet Hale-Bopp stand still
Above the ocean at Ka’anapali Beach,
Just like the crow we saw one morning rise
In Boston, a black knight errant, holding still
Against the wind, and flapping its wings to stay
In place while others watched then rode the wind
Up through the sky — first one, then three, while the first
Held still, then dipped, then rose along their arc.

Again in Atlanta, we saw Hale-Bopp
And watched its tail that arced above Stone Mountain,
As stony as the frieze on the mountain’s face,
The infamous past held lifeless there until
A laser called it back and thundering hooves
Like in a page from Faulkner roared inside
The head of a thousand Hightowers then died
When floodlights splashed against the granite wall.

I once saw black Ogunquit sea birds skate
Across the water’s surface with their wings
Outstretched and necks pushed forward like a horse
Gaining speed to rise up from the waves,
A white spray arcing from their tails beneath
The granite cliffs and slate New England sky.

© Joseph Saling and The New Word Mechanic, 2004, 2013.

Our encounter with the visitor from afar, may be closer than we think.

Infinities Will Make You Cry

Where Einstein feared to tread.

The Antennae Galaxies are undergoing a collisi...

Even if you’re not sitting around contemplating either the very large or the very small universe, you owe it to yourself to watch this and then go to YouTube and subscribe to acapellascience.

The probabilities are endless. Galaxies colliding inside the head of a pin.

And if you want to know how to say hello in Russian, you can find out here.

Perseid Remembered

A multicolored, long Perseid meteor striking t...

This past weekend we passed through the peak of the Perseid Meteor Shower, which happens each year near the middle of August. This year is a particularly good year for viewing because of the current phase of the moon. If you missed the show this weekend, you can still look tonight.

This poem was originally published in A Matter of Mind (Foothills Publishing, 2004).

Perseid Remembered

The crow circled once
and fell into the black trees,
invisible bird.

This was on Copper Mountain
where I’d seen the fat groundhog raise its head.

For those who’ll give up the desire to know,
the world is filled with surprise,
like the snake cutting
silently through the water
looking like a stick
or beavers sliding
from the bank where the raccoon
stands splashing its food.

Or that night we sat on a park table watching
unobstructed stars too many to count,
too many to comprehend. We were like children
in front of a store window at Christmas, dazzled
by the dancing lights.
One by one the stars broke free and ran through the sky
along firey trails.
The summer grass moved
and a mysterious form waddled our way —
a white streak on black that seemed to mirror the sky.
And for an instant, before fear rushed us
out of its way and pushed us
back inside our tent,

that wandering skunk
beneath the falling heavens
was a wondrous sight.

© Joseph Saling and The New Word Mechanic, 2004, 2012.