I am not a Sufi but this is one of their basic tenets and it seems to be a great notion to hold dear.
How to order my Books:
5 years ago
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Two Bible quotes from Mathew and Leviticus
Jesus replied: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'–Mathew 22:37-39
Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against one of your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD.–Leviticus 19:18
I am not a Christian but I do value the idea and practice of loving ones neighbor as oneself.
Quote from Faith and Practice, Pacific Yearly Meeting of the Religious Society of Friends
From the section on testimonies, or the set of attitudes expressed in the lifestyles of a lot of Religious Society of Friends members.
Simplicity
Simplicity is the right ordering of our lives, placing God at the center. When we shed possessions, activities, and behavior that distract us from that center, we can focus on what is important. Simplicity does not mean denying life's pleasures, but being open to the promptings of the Spirit. We Friends seek to take no more than our share and to be sensitive to the needs of others, especially future generations...
I am not an official Friend but value many of their beliefs and practices.
Try to be impeccable with my words
A paraphrase from, The Four Agreements, by don Miguel Ruiz. This is a book about the wisdom of the Toltec Indians.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
An undercurrent of motivation
This verbal period is marked by a need to verbalize just about everything. Sometimes it isn't appropriate to say it out loud or even blog it, but I can write it in a journal entry for myself interest. By interest I mean that the thoughts grow and compound when expressed, and especially when written down.
For my blog, I want at least to be as honest as I may muster at the time of publishing. The publishing button means to me, that this post is my plainest truth or at least the best wording of a dilemma I am contemplating, stating the arguing points clearly. Perfection is for another time in life or another machine.
I want fluency and connection to my total self with language, whether it is just in my mind, or spoken, read, or written. Complexity and completeness mark this stage in my development.
The various forms of reading, writing and conversing are all parts that practice communication.
© 2010, Donald Grube
The various forms of reading, writing and conversing are all parts that practice communication.
© 2010, Donald Grube
Monday, March 15, 2010
scrabble
scrabble pump white toys
boil kapenta sing pink
play oral bandana jackfruit
basket food recycle guitar
boil kapenta sing pink
play oral bandana jackfruit
basket food recycle guitar
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Hiked drank tea ate dinner
I just met a girl
we hiked drank tea ate dinner
and found warm friendship
the day is spilling
slowly sharing ones' heart myths
at times feeling raw
but we fall safely
into each others' strong arms
ears and lips poise for
chance to speak today's
truth we leave each others' grasp
knowing abundance.
© Donald Grube, 2010
we hiked drank tea ate dinner
and found warm friendship
the day is spilling
slowly sharing ones' heart myths
at times feeling raw
but we fall safely
into each others' strong arms
ears and lips poise for
chance to speak today's
truth we leave each others' grasp
knowing abundance.
© Donald Grube, 2010
Chart the path of falling pages
I stand alone and clap in the park at midnight and turn the crank and the music continues its qualities are questioning appreciation notes of clarity floating softly on lines supported with breath the song goes pump blue blood in and out of my friend's heart warm and safe in my chocolate parka
it is a gift to whom or from whom I do not know but it is a gift dating from some past era when differentiation is unfashionable or unnecessary now it is too often confused and left on the staff with many others alive, dead, and not yet conceived however this time the tune is played like a familial love drunken holiday I and it birthed in exercises before memory
compass divining rod global positioning system the blind fold that wraps my eyes from sight stacked ducks broken twigs bread crumbs strewn along the path to Gretel's future and pounding the pounding coxswain metronome even the reminder of air and trust the song it plays stirring ashen chicken bones and grooved goat hooves on my Father's ranch
please include rushes of traffic honking horns ticking pocket watches folded leather wallets unfolding with bills dispersed
and help search for its voice it is late shush I believe it is sleeping.
© Donald Grube, 2010
it is a gift to whom or from whom I do not know but it is a gift dating from some past era when differentiation is unfashionable or unnecessary now it is too often confused and left on the staff with many others alive, dead, and not yet conceived however this time the tune is played like a familial love drunken holiday I and it birthed in exercises before memory
compass divining rod global positioning system the blind fold that wraps my eyes from sight stacked ducks broken twigs bread crumbs strewn along the path to Gretel's future and pounding the pounding coxswain metronome even the reminder of air and trust the song it plays stirring ashen chicken bones and grooved goat hooves on my Father's ranch
please include rushes of traffic honking horns ticking pocket watches folded leather wallets unfolding with bills dispersed
and help search for its voice it is late shush I believe it is sleeping.
© Donald Grube, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Note to self
Never write a poem describing a picture, photograph or other piece of artwork, unless you want to be popular.
© Donald Grube, 2010
© Donald Grube, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
"...in my life, I love you more." Monologue.
It was me that wanted to be the best, not someone else's vision.
I just heard a poet, on the Poetry Show, say that a grade school teacher saved its life by giving it a library pass. This rascal would race to the Webster's and look up vagina and the Peloponnesian Wars. Wow and double wow. What pissed me off formativly, and belated my bed wetting career through junior high, was two jerks that loomed over the stall, while I relieved myself. When I was done, they announced themselves with applause. Some potty training, huh?
I am now here alone in bed with you.
I just heard a poet, on the Poetry Show, say that a grade school teacher saved its life by giving it a library pass. This rascal would race to the Webster's and look up vagina and the Peloponnesian Wars. Wow and double wow. What pissed me off formativly, and belated my bed wetting career through junior high, was two jerks that loomed over the stall, while I relieved myself. When I was done, they announced themselves with applause. Some potty training, huh?
I am now here alone in bed with you.
There is some sense in everything, isn't there? It's kinda like, we just don't get it, can't put it all together? Right? But someone is, or thing. The lost butterfly? Japanese...New Delhi children? And building chicken coops in Uganda? Isn't it? Or aren't they working on it right now? I just need to know for sure. Please wake me if I'm fast asleep, and jostle me, so I may hold my ears funnel to the echoing truth.
As my Mother reads to me, it's helping me to let go. No, that's crap. I'm doing it on purpose. I'm frightened and scared shitless if its not right in front of me. I need it to be alive forever. Honest. I want it to teach me how to write, so that its friend will be mine forever.
Holy crap, you scared me. How long have you been standing there? Well don't just stare. Talk. Ask me something. Okay, that's better. Huh, yeah, you know I'm not sure I'm ready to get on stage right now. It would parallel segments of my personal life because it's a love story and I even get to kiss the girl. But I'm also getting some joy outta writing and now talking to you. Expand? Okay. I'm developing a great kinship in this keyboard and web connection. I love corresponding with friends, one in particular and I think it knows who I mean. Ooh, la, la. Huh? Yes, I know some too, but not in this case. It's the peculiar instance of particulars. It also helps me with my typing skills. You know, I'm planning a sit down job for retirement?
Okay. Let me ask you one. Why did you come? I mean around tonight? What do you want? But isn't that the same thing? Well, if that was true then we'd be great friends by now. But I hardly think you would last and stick around til the end? And besides you're my opposite. What? Well that's true isn't it. I'm on the hunt for a life mate that is playful of mind, but doesn't create too much drama for me. Sips green tea while I guzzle my coffee and we sit together in silence for hours and hours just loving each other. Yeah, I also want it to look right through me, picking gently at the lies in my back pocket. One by one. Opening. Reading them. Refolding them in half. And then putting them back in a slightly different order. All done with a lover's expeditious prestidigitation. I don't know. Why do you always balk at my specifics? I'm not asking too much. Of course it doesn't have to be perfect,
just brilliant.
Okay. Let me ask you one. Why did you come? I mean around tonight? What do you want? But isn't that the same thing? Well, if that was true then we'd be great friends by now. But I hardly think you would last and stick around til the end? And besides you're my opposite. What? Well that's true isn't it. I'm on the hunt for a life mate that is playful of mind, but doesn't create too much drama for me. Sips green tea while I guzzle my coffee and we sit together in silence for hours and hours just loving each other. Yeah, I also want it to look right through me, picking gently at the lies in my back pocket. One by one. Opening. Reading them. Refolding them in half. And then putting them back in a slightly different order. All done with a lover's expeditious prestidigitation. I don't know. Why do you always balk at my specifics? I'm not asking too much. Of course it doesn't have to be perfect,
just brilliant.
Well, I've had about enough of you too. Goodby. It's getting late and I've got a date tomorrow with a dog and a spot on woman friend.
The same to you too, Bucko.
The same to you too, Bucko.
© Donald Grube, 2010
Jeff Tagami and Cecilia Woloch
Jeff and Cecilia at The Bookshop Santa Cruz, 3/9/2010, 7:30 PM
Jeff Tagami, Historical Poet
Jeff's reading was like pure distilled alcohol. It was so focused, I felt like an accomplice, grand inquisitor, with my spot light peering while watching it sweat. Even after, during its answers to our questions, it told a silent story of torturous absence from popular publication. Is it happy being spokesperson to Family history?
Cecilia Woloch, Zeus with a Siren's Voice
Cecilia was flirting with its audience through out play time. It is an intelligent, more hyperactive mind that teases its body and shifts from literary labels to seductive descants. It is a world traveler searching for roots, it discovers and plants family at the same time.
© Donald Grube, 2010
Labels
Labels is a function of blogger.com. At the bottom of each post you will find them and they will link you with all samely labeled posts within my blog. An entry might be cross-referenced with more than one label.
I tell you this now because I am grouping my poetry and entries under sections or collections: 575th Lover, Grandma's Crocheted Doilies, Journal, Art Criticism and so forth. It is a handy function.
Go blogger.com!
© Donald Grube, 2010
Grandma's Crocheted Doilies
Grandma's Crocheted Doilies is a collection of non objective poetry. The closest hint I can give the reader on performance and understanding of each piece, is to approach the poetry like a color field painting. (Please google.) Let your eyes take in the entire poem with a soft gaze and then read the first word that jumps off the page. After this first word, let your eyes roam again to the next word, and so on.
Each reading will probably be different for each person, and even consecutive readings by the same person, will be fresh and new.
These are eye poems, not meant to frustrate the reader but to free it from our standard linear, left/right reading patterns.
Above all,
have fun!
© Donald Grube, 2010
© Donald Grube, 2010
575th Lover
575th Lover is a collection of love Haiku and Senryu. Unless there is a grand impulse to the contrary, all love images will be painted in the haiku form of 5 syllables, 7 syllables, and 5 syllables. If the love action lasts longer than one stanza it will be expressed in linked haiku, meaning one haiku (or orgasm) following another.
© Donald Grube, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
rugby
rugby a Jean errant
moist warlock strum muslin
pupil chalice strident ferrel
bleached hooker's assassin ingot
© Donald Grube, 2010
moist warlock strum muslin
pupil chalice strident ferrel
bleached hooker's assassin ingot
© Donald Grube, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
It
I am gradually removing the pronouns he and she from my vocabulary. They will be replaced with the more contemporary pronoun it.
© Donald Grube, 2010
© Donald Grube, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Advice to myself as a young poet
Write, read, select and translate poetry. These four actions will make me a better poet.
© Donald Grube, 2010
© Donald Grube, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
One character
It is a 60 year old man with no hair on any parts of its body it stands wearing a cloth diaper and plays a rattle occasionally white powder falls on it that is all
the rattle is a percussion instrument from Africa that makes a rain sound and keeps a beat
communication with its partners is achieved by subtle variations in the music it plays on its rattle it is mute other than this music if it wasn't absolutely keen the audience would think there was no change at all in the sounds it plays
the point is glacial modulation
it discovers acting and musical partners in every single thing moment being and sound that occurs it is steadfast loyal strong enduring and plays for love not laughs or coins although every response it receives becomes fodder for its next response and so forth
and so it plays and stands absolutely calm and plays some more from the time the first person enters the concert hall whether it be a member of the audience an usher or another actor warming up on stage it stands and plays through out the piece of entertainment and on after the amusement is complete and everyone has left the theater including the janitor
it is.
© Donald Grube, 2010
it discovers acting and musical partners in every single thing moment being and sound that occurs it is steadfast loyal strong enduring and plays for love not laughs or coins although every response it receives becomes fodder for its next response and so forth
and so it plays and stands absolutely calm and plays some more from the time the first person enters the concert hall whether it be a member of the audience an usher or another actor warming up on stage it stands and plays through out the piece of entertainment and on after the amusement is complete and everyone has left the theater including the janitor
it is.
© Donald Grube, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Listening to Delilah After Dark. Again?
I too need the pablum of sweet Christian nonsense
again
again
before it was happy
it is a memory of pain that sends a bittersweet hallelujah through my nostrils down past my pallets further south to tickle my larynx breaking down in my lungs filling my epigastrium with uncontrollable actually torturous spasms of violent laughter ending in fabled tears
I don't feel well my abdomen hurts
please not now
I crawl over to my laptop barely able to pull its cord I also find the circle with a line impregnating it press it and then almost click the okay button
dark cold Eve
wake to Delilah, again? Delilah dedicates this next song to an expecting mother whose husband is overseas protecting our rights of freedom
I stretch out my primary muscle groups to stop the cramping but oh my god am I bleeding am I losing my own child
again
I use my remaining strength to call my greatest friend Paul who talks to sooth and drives me to the hospital's
end.
© Donald Grube, 2010
it is a memory of pain that sends a bittersweet hallelujah through my nostrils down past my pallets further south to tickle my larynx breaking down in my lungs filling my epigastrium with uncontrollable actually torturous spasms of violent laughter ending in fabled tears
I don't feel well my abdomen hurts
please not now
I crawl over to my laptop barely able to pull its cord I also find the circle with a line impregnating it press it and then almost click the okay button
dark cold Eve
wake to Delilah, again? Delilah dedicates this next song to an expecting mother whose husband is overseas protecting our rights of freedom
I stretch out my primary muscle groups to stop the cramping but oh my god am I bleeding am I losing my own child
again
I use my remaining strength to call my greatest friend Paul who talks to sooth and drives me to the hospital's
end.
© Donald Grube, 2010
After I'm gone, I wish to be thought of as the pompous ass
It is a nice, acclaimed collection of books, letters, pieces of art, and coherent journal entries that will be distracting to those looking for my voice, but if you listen for the leading tones, become the grout holding the church's wiggly woggly lines in mosaic that are fresh tellings of old traditions, the parable might be found in the broken phrases, incomplete lists, old mildewy and stained paintings, maybe even below the soot collected in my GE oven, but family, and others who by chance got to know me, please sort through my junk and rotten fruit like the expensive investigative team, sifting, lifting DNA samples and plotting to account for that one ill fitting turn.
I wish to be read and reread, literally or figuratively, by someone who's appreciative but I know that I am nothing but
the shit that stops up my toilet.
Please find my kernels and laugh at my presumptive thought that I had anything to share with you but lies. Once laughing, rejoice and make a different choice. You don't need to search anymore, because I'm telling you it is pointless. There is nothing but incomplete and incoherent thoughts everywhere.
the shit that stops up my toilet.
Please find my kernels and laugh at my presumptive thought that I had anything to share with you but lies. Once laughing, rejoice and make a different choice. You don't need to search anymore, because I'm telling you it is pointless. There is nothing but incomplete and incoherent thoughts everywhere.
Give up the search, the striving, doing your best and grab what you need. It is all that counts. Grab it. Take it. Eat it as quickly as you can!
And then run.
© Donald Grube, 2010
© Donald Grube, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
What Was The Motivation For Starting This Blog?
Please reread post January 5, 2010. It was to create some words to parallel my painting and drawing process.
The blog might also do these things.
The blog might also do these things.
- Explain some of the pictorial periods
- Create a greater understanding of words, which is important in any art form
- To journal in the freest sense and not be afraid of what the world might think or say
- To respond to the world as directly as I can
- To find patterns
- Accept patterns
- Accept myself
© Donald Grube, 2010
I Write What My Body Is Feeling
It's the beginning of spring
What else would you expect
I'm just another frisky Joe
who is single
and
enjoys journaling
my feelings
Would you rather
have me screwing
every person I run into
or spending my evenings
getting my
electronic jollies
from porn sites
At least I'm published
Any of my prospective
liaisons should google
my blog and then
interview me
I'll gladly fess up
You see Ms Blog
I've nothing to hide
I want everyone
to know the real
Donald Grube
That's what this
blog is about
to fill in the blanks
where images are too vague
In many ways
I want to know
as well
It's shocking reading
24 posts in January
and then noticing
48 posts in February
That's times two
My point exactly
and it's only
getting hotter
as the flowers
keep blooming
and soon people
begin to uncover
their skin
So look out
web crawlers
I'm still writing
and it looks like
I've plenty
more to say
on the topic
of
love
lust
and other
spring time urges
© Donald Grube, 2010
What else would you expect
I'm just another frisky Joe
who is single
and
enjoys journaling
my feelings
Would you rather
have me screwing
every person I run into
or spending my evenings
getting my
electronic jollies
from porn sites
At least I'm published
Any of my prospective
liaisons should google
my blog and then
interview me
I'll gladly fess up
You see Ms Blog
I've nothing to hide
I want everyone
to know the real
Donald Grube
That's what this
blog is about
to fill in the blanks
where images are too vague
In many ways
I want to know
as well
It's shocking reading
24 posts in January
and then noticing
48 posts in February
That's times two
My point exactly
and it's only
getting hotter
as the flowers
keep blooming
and soon people
begin to uncover
their skin
So look out
web crawlers
I'm still writing
and it looks like
I've plenty
more to say
on the topic
of
love
lust
and other
spring time urges
© Donald Grube, 2010
A Private Facebook Exchange Anonymously Quoted
Woman Friend:
...Here's a question that's been dogging me for a while: How is it that you are not married or committed with a bunch of kids? I have really pondered this and have no answers. You? What's your analysis?
Donald:
I'm a little embarrassed to confess...I'm a dead beat Dad. I've got 7 ex-wives and 14 abandoned, foster children spanning the ages 4 1/2-15 years of age, scattered all over the World.
Just kidding. I've been slow to grow up but have managed to stay clear of pregnancy and marriage. I feel blessed by my luck and choices in earlier life. Now I am ready to find my doe in the wild and mate for the rest of my breaths and heart beats. Bachelorhood has its effect on one though. The whole Donald Grube line stopping with Donald Grube...I think that fact drives me to leaving some well worked and orderly art and artifacts as heirlooms. (Thus, my Mother's garage full of art and this blog to explain it all.) I also live through nieces and nephews. Bless their hearts.
© Donald Grube, 2010
© Donald Grube, 2010
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About Me
- Donald Grube
- I like to work furiously on the project in front of me. Having lots of skills I am often called on by friends to help out. I am learning to soften my brutal honesty. I know what's true by a feeling that wells up in my left Achilles tendon.
