F a G

I took a side trip yesterday to honor the my son's first day at school. I can't believe that he is 18 and in college. I also find it very interesting that I drove him to the first day of school every single year from kindergarten to his Freshman year of college. There is some continuity there, probably for a reason as there is throughout life. I am not a believer in magic, or superstition. I have a hard time saying "bless you" when someone sneezes, but no matter how cynical I am there is part of me that looks in wonder at the serendipity or coincidences of life.

For instance. I last mentioned the move from Puente Drive to Cardinal Avenue. There are themes that have repeated through those moves and my life. Religion is one. Now it is funny that my writing this blog and starting with my English1A class in college is coming full circle. You see I feel like I must write everyday. If only I could write everyday. If I would write everyday what would happen. I may need to take a break and I may have times when I can't come up with material. I should write. I might not have another chance. I could just skip it.

Choices. What we do in life echoes in eternity? Does it? I don't know. But we have this one chance to could, should, would, might, may, must.

I have talked about my homes, and how I came to enjoy writing and now I am searching for the next step. So I might or could have or should have written this or that and I may still or I would still be able to but I do know I must enjoy the time I have and the writing I am able to accomplish.

So today I leave you with this poem by e.e.cummings. It is about those six subjective verbs. We use subjectives mainly when talking about events that are not certain to happen. For example, we use the subjective when talking about events that somebody:

•wants to happen
•hopes will happen
•imagines happening
 
This poem is about the possibilities of life and unfulfilled potential. I may or I might post the analysis I did on this poem in the next segment of this blog. I also may not. I know that I could, and some may wish that I would and some may believe that I should...it's all potential and what we hope to occur. That is possibly the best explanation so far of this blog and my writing, although it is about what has happend it may very well include what was hoped for and what potentially went unfulfilled.

Little Effies Head

here is little Effie's head
whose brains are made of gingerbread
when judgment day comes
God will find six crumbs


stooping by the coffinlid

waiting for something to rise

as the other somethings did-

you imagine his surprise

bellowing through the general noise

Where is Effie who was dead?

-to God in a tiny voice,

i am may the first crumb said

whereupon its fellow five

crumbs chuckled as if they were alive

and number two took up the song

might i'm called and did no wrong

cried the third crumb, i am should
and this is my little sister could
with our big brother who is would

don't punish us for we were good;

and the last crumb with some shame

whispered unto God, my name

is must and with the others i've

been Effie who isn't alive

just imagine it I say

God amid a monstrous din

watch your step and follow me

stooping by Effie's little, in

(want a match or can you see?)

which the six subjective crumbs

twitch like mutilated thumbs;

picture His peering biggest whey

coloured face on which a frown

puzzles, but I know the way

(nervously Whose eyes approve

the blessed while His ears are crammed


with the strenuous music of
the innumerable capering damned)
-staring wildly up and down
the here we are now judgment day


cross the threshold have no dread
lift the sheet back in this way
here is little Effie's head
whose brains are made of gingerbread