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Showing posts from May, 2012

Duty calls

My daily deadline schedule has heated up with the summer temperatures, so blog posts are staying in my busy brain and not finding their way to the screen as of late.  The posts will arrive as I have time, but in the meantime, you might enjoy reading two poems just posted at Getting Along with Grief

One of the blog's current themes is "Life was good when ...". Licking Spoons by Mary Langer Thompson and Over the Top by Lynn Hoggard make for delightful thene-related reads, and perhaps they will stir up some good memories of your own.

What's beautiful to you?

I enjoy People magazine and have counted on it to make long waits in a doctor's office go faster many a time. Last week's issue, though, gave me pause, as does any medium proclaiming to know who is the most beautiful person. Most beautiful in our nation, in the world, in our neighborhood?  They gave the "most beautiful" title to Beyoncé this year. And yes, she's beautiful. That's not the point behind my pause. The point is, who is People magazine or any other publication to decide for us what or who is the "most beautiful" anything?

I began my professional life as an assistant social worker in a gerontology unit in a large medical center. I had the privilege of meeting hundreds of "senior citizens" or "personas de la tercera edad." Once I even participated as a judge in a nursing home beauty pageant.  It was a tough assignment, because so many of the elderly female contestants were so beautiful. They promenaded in conservative &…

Reading the Bones: The Poetry of María Meléndez

I remember listening with rapt attention as my friend, artist Mil Lubroth, recounted her experiences from a trip to South Africa. One in particular that stuck in my memory was her visit to a village shaman who read bones. He scattered a collection of bones on bare ground, gazed at them and into them, then revealed their message to his "patients." Later, when seeing my own bone density scan images, I thought how bones do indeed reveal messages and tell stories. So, a book of poems with "bones" in the title seems both natural and magic to me.

María Meléndez's collection of poetry Flexible Bones opens with this bit of bone knowledge: "The bones of a bat's fingers have adaptations that promote bending...making them less apt than ordinary bone to splinter under stress." --Adam Summers, "Biomechanics," Natural History, February 2003. 
Meléndez's poetry brings stress and stresses onto center and inner stage. That which is incongruous, inconsi…