Monday, July 31, 2017

Gulf Coast Prayers...

Post by AquarianM on Aug 30, 2008 at 9:54pm

Gulf Coast Prayers...

Reading, hearing seeing, dreading.

The weak among us are running for their lives,
The lives scattered and broken for three years,
Faded for many of us,
Ignored by the seemingly strongest of us.

The monster Gustav comes howling and all you can do is beg.

Beg the sky to be gentle,
Beg the sea to forgive and rock softly,
Beg God to forgive our errors and protect our brothers and sisters.

This is why many never went back home.

This comes before we're even close to cleaning up the last one.

If we could reach out and pull them North we would.

Pray, pray, pray - for mercy.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
08/31/2008 - copyright donated to public domain.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Sunfish...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 2, 2008 at 12:10am

Sunfish...

Sunfish flicker all over the bottom,
Rippling in steel-blue water neck-deep,
Dodging sand puffs from my feet,
Wave rolls lift and sputter,
Cold-shock gone as I dive,
Lake Michigan on an August afternoon.

Roll and splash I wade ashore,
Polished flat rocks in soft hot yellow sand,
Sea Gulls scamper and beg all about,
Walking wet and drying in sunshine,
I search driftwood for a beach trail sign.

Greyed-out dead stick and a magnifying glass,
Teaching a child a new art,
I burn the beach onto wood.

Sunset comes softly,
I blast my harmonica at last rays amidst sand grasses waving goodnight.

I walk up the dune like summer waning - stressless.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 08/29/2008

Saturday, July 29, 2017

Artists’ Card Project – Ace Of Hearts

Working on a project with 54 other artists, mostly from the Madison, WI area, to create a deck of cards. I picked the Ace of Hearts as my card. Here’s the final artwork version.

Keep looking up,

Dan

Click to enlarge pic

He flashes through clouds and vapors,
Ducking birds on the wing,
Scarf whipping in the prop-wash,
A race with Cupid to be won,
For there in his sights lies the most tender target,
A beating lonely heart,
Wishing and hoping for just that one shot,
The one that ends it all,
In a flash of ever-after joy,
He tips the stick forward and dives for it,
Goggles gleamingly clear,
He pulls the trigger on love,
Raining it down from on high,
A bubble that can’t be burst,
Not even by the light of day.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 2014 Poetry & artwork.


Dan Stafford

For Want Of A Windmill...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 2, 2008 at 12:51am

For Want Of A Windmill...

In the 1860's a Jesuit Priest fashioned a whirligig dream,
Grew a business most successful,
'Till the days after WW II spinning water out of the ground,
All started in a little Wisconsin town.

Spin and whirl,
Pretty as a pearl,
Ornate wood or polished steel,
Pretty painted colors the life of many a farmer.

A Chicago company saw the light,
Bought the rights and moved North,
Fairbanks Morse landed in Beloit,
All was well that pumped the well.

In the 1920's an immigrant from Italy,
One Tuscan gentleman of little fame,
Landed and landed a job,
There by the river at Fairbanks Morse.

He found a wife and adopted a baby girl,
My own mother and grandmother,
So Noni cooked and Nono ground metal,
And my Mother married my Dad.

Spin and whirl,
Pretty as a pearl,
Ornate wood or polished steel,
Pretty painted colors the life of many a farmer.

Four children born there on the Rock,
Myself and my siblings all alive,
In the year 2000 I turned to poetry,
And fancied windmills could save the Earth.

I wrote poems of the graceful things,
Took my son to see them,
Blogged of the light and right,
And tilted at windmills for all I was worth.

Only just yesterday I find I'd have never been born nor they,
For want of a windmill in 1867,
The Poet who loves windmills exists because of a windmill,
Simply named Eclipse.

AquarianM

By Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/02/2008

www.spearman.org/Eclipsehistory.html

www.whizzyrds.com/Windblog.html

My Grandfather worked for 44 years at Fairbanks Morse, which would never have located in Beloit, WI if not for the Eclipse windmill. The Eclipse windmill line was arguably the most successful water-pumping windmill in American history, and also served in many locations overseas. My Grandfather very likely would have ended up somewhere else if the Eclipse windmill wasn't invented and made in Beloit - and I and all my brothers and sisters would never have been. How ironic that I have been a promoter of windmills as a large part of the solution to climate crisis these past eight years.Tilting at windmills quite simply suits me.

Friday, July 28, 2017

Boxtrolls…


Boxtrolls…

I loved this movie! The artwork is right up my alley. Some of the subject matter should be kept at least pre-teen and above, but the art and heart are adorable. 9/10

Pass the popcorn.

Dan

Click to enlarge pic

Even A Peanut Knows…

Even A Peanut Knows…


I’ve never seen the Great Pumpkin,
But I’ve seen great pumpkins,
Whether or not the Doctor is in,
The football gets pulled,
Leaving you nothing to punt,
So haul your blanket to the piano,
Get ready to sing while you freeze,
‘Cause even a child knows,
What happens after the coloring of the trees.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/17/2014


Dreaming Of Being Tesla...

Dreaming Of Being Tesla...




There’s a beauty and elegance in the olden days,
A craft of the mind-to-hand,
A curvature of style and function,
Something at once cosmic meditation and genius inspired,
If only we had the old Gods of lightning again,
Miracles would charge forth electric,
Legends walk the land and the dream,
Power arcing in our hands.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/29/2014

Dan Stafford

Raucous Echo At Eleven...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 11, 2008 at 11:35am

Raucous Echo At Eleven...

It's everywhere,
The maudlin whispers,
That celebration of darkness,
A whisper of ghosts from within a black cloud.

The cries and whimpers haunt me,
As I wonder of answers and illusions,
It's all a matter of trust - lacking.

I saw things my own eyes tell me aren't physically possible,
I see shame and sadness in nooks and crannies across the land,
Wondering who won what and remembering the cost,
All the answers in the universe pale,
No matter their say.

Echoes, echoes, echoes and screams - I remember - even without belief.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/11/2008

Author's Comments:

9/11/2001, shrouded in controversy and politics, is at its heart a horror story of lost lives and lost freedoms. The people and the ideals are what really mattered, and I, for one, will never forget.

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Soft Water Blue...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 14, 2008 at 3:39pm

Soft Water Blue...

At the beach house again,
Low and slow waves of relaxation,
Young relatives leaving as we arrive,
Passing each other on the sandy path that leads to and from the beach,
"Beach switch" they call it.

The sky starts off cloudless,
Sunshine ripples on calm waters,
Seventy shades of blue and waves topping at one and a half feet.

Plant a folding chair in the yellow-tan sand,
Take off the last vestiges of the modern world,
Except your suit.

The water is chill at first,
Ice lapping slowly up from feet to waist as you wade in,
At some point near there it's just too much,
You have to dive and get it over.

Swimming long and cool,
The waves and boat wakes push you down the beach,
Splashing against your face every now and then,
Reminder of the Lake's power.

As you stare out where sky meets seemingly endless water,
You remember the school of minnows that dodged your feet as you waded in.

Sea gulls glide overhead and float on the waves,
Their brothers and sisters scamper about the beach.

Sun hats and beach chairs dot the sand for more than a mile in either direction.

There is a thick haze on the Western horizon,
It cocoons you into a world of sand and grass and blue and breeze.

People walk dogs up and down the lapping waves,
A cigarette boat roars colorful across the horizon.

You sit drying in the hot sun,
Sand squeezed between your toes,
Absorbing every moment you can steal or beg - just being.

A cheeky sea gull waddles around your chair,
Curious but not quite close.

A wall of clouds covers the evening sun,
You pack up and climb sand for a shower.

It's just begun.

AquarianM

© 09/02/2008
By: Daniel A. Stafford

*Notes from last week vacation.


Wednesday, July 26, 2017

A Consecrated Magical Tool…

Post by AquarianM on Sep 20, 2008 at 1:47am

A Consecrated Magical Tool…

She’s a high priestess from California,
Working magic amidst the sunbeams,
Playing her harp in mystical fashion,
She’ll raise your hopes and open your consciousness,
A darling voice playing under pagan trees joyfully,
Whispering spells of love and success so gently.

She speaks of her harp by its given name,
Enchanted trance-fingers dance the strings by candle light,
When the moon is silver she’ll croon her highest power,
And take your soul on a distant flight,
Breathless and wondering,
Wood and strings she claims are a consecrated magical tool,
Just as any musician would know and say,
Upon recovering breath from when they play.

I know the feeling in my own space,
Bello glints yellow brass about the place,
I seek the notes where the magic lies,
The one that make my hackles happily rise,
For in music there’s such simple joy,
To uplift the spirit we all play to employ.

You can’t play a song to cast a curse,
Because if you try nasty noise will burst,
Over every ear about the place,
Such blasphemy flies back in your face.

You know you know this – it’s a simple spell,
When you play your favorite songs space and time are a deeper well,
Transported away by the treasures of many,
Instruments are a sacred gift,
Come God or gods entrusted to few,
All consecrated magical tools.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/20/2008

*Note: to find the inspiration for this piece, search “Regan High Priestess” and read the latest blog entry on her site.*

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Racing The Tide...

Racing The Tide...

I built a lovely sand castle,
It sat high above the surf,
The rooms and turrets lush.

Time washes by,
Foam bubbles back into the sea are swept.


Every detail and sconce was a moment of my life,
A palace of ephemeral wonders and thoughts flashing by,
Fish in the cloud currents.

The sea is rising,
The waves always roll and roll.


I race the tide,
Trying to recreate all the details,
Here upon higher sand,
A place to last a century or a decade longer,
Just to leave a trace.

My world is Pompeii,
I pray for wind in my sails.


AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/25/2017

Author's Comment:
My long-time personal website, Word Whizzyrds / Super Aquarian ( www.whyzzrds.com / www.superaquarian.com ) is going under. I can't afford the hosting costs any longer. I will still retain the domain names, and re-point them after it goes down some time in August. I've been duplicating as much as I can at superaquarian.blogspot.com , and am doing a little more every night. To be honest, if you look at it on a desktop, I think that the Blogger site is slightly more visually beautiful. There's no way I can transfer it all in the amount of time, however. I also can't duplicate some features, and there are links around the web that will go dark. Some of the MP3 links and pictures I have on poems in the archives of this site, for example. I do have a backup of the full site, but it took me well over a decade to get it in place. The domains will be pointed at the Blogger site after the original goes nova.

Mercy, Mercy, Mercy...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 28, 2008 at 1:47am

Mercy, Mercy, Mercy...

Saturday Night Live was a riot,
All wild laughter and raw views of the pols,
Stereotypes blown up and bagged,
My stomach aches a little,
The healing of laughter,
Energy rising after a hard week,
Then the magic struck like lightning.

Duffy sang Mercy and Stepping Stone,
Hot and smoky and wild magic,
Glowing ear candy hypnosis,
I can't stop playing it in my head,
For which I'm glad,
She glows when she sings.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/28/2008

www.iamduffy.com

Monday, July 24, 2017

First Dance Of Fall...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 2, 2008 at 8:37am



First Dance Of Fall...
 
Waving, swaying, rustling,
Afternoon sunshine slanted and low,
Birds flocking on wires,
The tufts of grasses rise again,
September is flowing away softly on the wind,
Dreams start to take life and flight,
Turning inward we dance hypnotic,
A closeness of spirits drifts across our minds,
Bounty near and held in spectacle,
First dance of the Fall.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/02/2008

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Silent As A Stone...

Silent As A Stone...

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

Some kind of instinct,
Some sad power play,
Something I don't quite understand,
What makes you act this way?

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

If I wrote you a love poem,
You'd dis that too,
It's something I've already,
Watched you do.

When we're with friends,
You shut me up,
Ask me why,
I don't communicate,
It's so late,
My turn,
Never came up.

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

I wonder,
Oh,
I wonder if,
The Universe,
Maybe put you up to this,
You like to keep me silent,
Silent as a stone,
Inside my head,
Locked up,
And all alone.

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

Silent as a stone,
Inside my head and locked up,
All alone.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/23/2017

A Few Old Friends…

Post by AquarianM on Oct 22, 2008 at 2:07am

A Few Old Friends…

Those simple possessions we live with every day,
Things close and dear to us which can't be replaced,
Anachronisms from the time they were made,
Lose one - shopping for a replacement is heart-breaking.
A Leatherman tool worn on my hip for fourteen years,
The case's belt loop breaks unbeknownst,
As familiar as the way you comb your hair it was,
Gone in a silent act of time's curse,
I bought a new one - larger and clumsier but more capable.

A pair of shoes two years old,
A perfect fit on your feet,
Shined to a gleaming polish by my own hand,
A hundred hours of daily care,
The stitching pops between leather and sole,
No longer in "style" but still my perfect style,
Their replacements leave me less than pleased,
Fake leather you can't even polish,
Totally the wrong look and feel,
Serviceable and durable,
Regardless of size a less-than-perfect fit.

A Zippo lighter I keep in a leather pouch on my belt,
Brass encased in leather,
The patterns of years' tarnish like the back of my own knuckles,
Familiar and coordinated,
Flickable with one finger,
Not lost but irreplaceable.

It's those little things that we use every day that make our lives more defined and comfortable.

Don't even get me on the subject of people close to us.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

© 10/22/2008

Saturday, July 22, 2017

On The Brink...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 3, 2008 at 11:34pm

On The Brink...

A new dawn,
A new day,
Or just craziness,
Come out to play,
They're crazy in the streets,
I'm hiding in my bed,
It's a date with history,
Be it blue or red,
Dunder blunder and wonder,
The raven caws and claws,
Thumping beating screaming might be healing,
In a crone-eyed Fate's view the Norns are weaving,
Sisters can you spare a time?

It's voting day again.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/04/2008

Friday, July 21, 2017

Jack Space And The Jazzcid Rock-it Sax Galaxy...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 22, 2008 at 4:08pm

Jack Space And The Jazzcid Rock-it Sax Galaxy...

Jack Space was going to race,
Twice round the big Blue Moon,
'Twas a Christmas in Outer Space,
All stars were like lighted jewels.

Jack was nimble until he sat on a thimble,
Which was really an alien space suit,
He shot past Andromeda and spun on a gymbal,
Grabbing his sax made of brass he blew his horn toot-toot.

The sound was round and flew off the ground,
All aliens were fuzzy and green for the chase,
Jack got his ray gun and kept on playin' to be found,
But the green-eyed monster was too fast and they wound up in hyper space.

Next I knew the coop he flew,
Playing inside his tin can,
I stumbled and fell and tied my shoe true,
As the critics all gave Jack the pan.

Our eyes were alive as the telescopes cried,
"A galaxy shaped like a sax - I've never lied!"

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/22/2008

www.archive.org/download/JazzcidRock-itSax/Jazzcid-Rock-it-Sax.mp3

Thursday, July 20, 2017

The Flying Saucer Era...

The Flying Saucer Era...

I look up at the night,
Always searching.

I'll never believe in that splendor being empty.

Arrogance doesn't become us.

I want to believe.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/16/2017

"Rembrandt Sleeping..." Poem #30
 
 

Fortitude...

Post by AquarianM on Dec 8, 2008 at 6:20pm

Fortitude...

It ain't over 'til it's over, can't always count on roses n' clover,
Strength is making it through the long school,
And still being what's at the heart of you.

Stars shine on forever - just moments for us,
Everything we do with them is all we have,
So joy had best be inside out - if not it lacks contagion,
Just when those you love need it most.

Ain't nothin' 'bout a movie anywhere but inside a head,
Out here real is the deal we all seal, choiceless but for the approach.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/07/2008

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Mars Phoenix Syndrome...

Post by AquarianM on Dec 17, 2008 at 2:18am

Mars Phoenix Syndrome...

The board has gone dark,
All circuits silent,
Alone on Mars in cold red sand,
The poetry of endings all that’s left to write,
I am the ghost,
The cipher,
The living epitaph of a dream,
Alone on a sojourn through the universe,
My companions' signals have faded out of reception,
Yet I coast on,
Across intersoular space,
Dreaming there’s a Universe to hear.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 12/17/2008

Author’s Note:
Requiem for Mystic Muse poetry board – it seems I am the last of the last.
mysticmuse.proboards17.com/index.cgi

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Last Light In The Window...

Post by AquarianM on Dec 17, 2008 at 1:27pm

Last Light In The Window...

You'll find me here,
Keeping the house just warm enough,
Sheets tucked over the furniture,
One lamp in the window over the foyer,
Heart aglow and whispering alone,
Until you all come home.

My Taliesin this shall be.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/17/2008

Monday, July 17, 2017

The Bean Diet...

The Bean Diet...

Bean burritos,
Three kinds,
Only a buck forty-nine.

Red beans and rice,
Maybe an apple,
Would be nice.

Wallet may be thin,
Yet somehow,
We'll win.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/15/2017

"Rembrandt Sleeping..." Poem #29

Do The Christmas Slide...

Post by AquarianM on Dec 25, 2008 at 9:20am

Do The Christmas Slide...

Hey,
Cold and windy white,
Sunshine on three degrees for a minute,
Next it's sleet and freezing rain,
Drive baby drive,
A holiday party and lots of cheer,
Maybe there's a hotel room close by,
Wait - reindeer express better yet,
Slip on home with a twinkle in your eyes,
Say goodnight and off to rest,
Santa's coming to give you all the best,
You made it through the Christmas slide,
With a little joy left over.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 12/25/2008

Sunday, July 16, 2017

Sartia's Halo Polish...

Sartia's Halo Polish...

Even halos get dulled,
Centuries of flights in all weather,
Missions of mercy and constant scenes of agony,
The acid in an angel's tears pits even the best materials,
And the corrosion of the soul facing death,
Time after time after time,
Followed by the healing expansion of spirit,
The one you get in the joy of a miracle delivered,
The flowery scent of tears of joy,
When a mother sees her child cry away near death,
Surviving with no longer fevered little curls,
Still damp with the sweat of fate,
Sartia's hands have always been brave,
As she scrubs the crags of woe from their halos,
As each touch brings a flash of the visions,
The sight of what the Heavenly host have borne,
As Sartia rinses them with martyrs' blood,
And tears of requited love,
Under God's golden moonlight,
In her little garden world of pale roses,
Her blue eyes are ancient,
And her soft face is ever young,
As the shaken hug her in mutual comfort,
Their halos returned after each brief respite,
Their crushing weight for a time lifted,
She cries but softly in her state of gentle grace.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/18/2001



From Poetic Constellations:
Jan Awards this ROTD 11/23/11

Into The Void…

Post by AquarianM on Nov 22, 2008 at 4:05pm

Into The Void…

I tumbled in the sea like stones and glass and shells,
Turning to sand at the shoreline,
Eaten away millimeter by inch,
Lost and out of control,
Thought that I'd been swimming.

There is no fighting the current,
The chop of a charcoal grey sky whipping water,
There is no golden goose,
There is only everyone around me swimming,
Afraid to stretch out a hand.

In the darkness of the beach the combers run in,
Silvered by the moon,
Boiling and dangerous - beautiful as time,
Entirely as deep as endless space,
What lives under the space between our ears.

Some say they have the Universe in their hip pocket,
But they haven't spent a single day awake,
Nor ever seen the dawn rise in colored fire,
Bejeweled only to fade in an hour,
Like the shape of a cloud.

I put reed to lips and play and play,
The pearl keys and brass are fickle,
Cool to the touch like stone and stubborn,
Yet inch by inch I master it,
Until I swim away.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/22/2008

www.archive.org/download/IntoTheVoid/Into-The-Void.mp3

Saturday, July 15, 2017

Midnight Moo...

Midnight Moo...

A simple Trade Joe's delight,
Requires the cows to come home,
Full of chocolate dreams.

I dance to the 'fridge,
Beaming...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/14/2017

"Rembrandt Sleeping..." Poem # 28


Author's note:
I love this stuff for making chocolate milk before bed, but have it only very rarely.

Green Leaf Gals Fall...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 20, 2008 at 10:06am

Green Leaf Gals Fall...



Steps and stairs,
A house number by heart,
Cool breath,
Miss you, puppy dog.

So long...

Leaves out of sight,
Never out of mind,
All about the yard,
Were in neat piles raked.

Sign of a season...

A cameo moment,
Camera-captured forever,
"Who, me?"
"Not I wags the dog."

A smile and whistle for such innocence...

Scattered gold and brown,
Wind-blown in their time,
Rustles and frost long faded,
Like clouds in the sky.

They remember the leaves even still.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford - poem, Prahl family photo.
© 03/15/2008

Friday, July 14, 2017

Dusty Old Letters From Tesla...

Dusty Old Letters From Tesla...



You can see the genius in the handwriting,
Meticulously cluttered,
Like an attic closet lost for a century.

The dry must is blown off the yellowed envelopes,
All eyes widen with delight.

Back in the day,
It was known as "correspondence,"
Hand-written and soul-bared.

The wonders of the Universe,
Revealed,
Wax seals that had partly re-stuck,
Grudgingly giving up their sleeping secrets.

It was all tales of love,
Love with a mystical beauty un-bound by our petty rules,
Cosmos was her name.

Nicola gave us an adoring view under her skirts.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/11/2017

Rembrandt Sleeping, poem #26

Spindle...

Spindle...

Around,
The creation of sound,
Mostly bright colors,
Adapting to the time.

In a digital world,
Analog sounds sweet.

What lasts is what tells,
Long after the last album sells.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/12/2017

"Rembrandt Sleeping..." poem #27

Author's note:
If ever I am wealthy enough, I will buy a beautiful old console stereo, put in a top-of-the-line turntable and sound system, one that glows like stereos used to, and gently, reverently, set needle to vinyl...


It's A Tea-cup Universe...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 30, 2008 at 10:19pm

It's A Tea-cup Universe...

An ancient bush reigns,
Upon the misted hills of China,
Stone trails nearly forgotten,
Walking a way of antiquity.

Can you taste the world or the sky?

Ten days of weather in a basket of leaves and buds,
How high a bush sits on the hill,
What lies far beneath our feet,
How did hands move - long or fast or gentle?

A family art as fine as butterfly wing breezes.

Everything modern can move mountains,
Dead dirt and dull uniforms,
Machine-printed cheap art for the masses,
Careless rush of rough touch.

Stubborn - the seeker of ancient heart.

Masterworks revived from the crush,
Uniqueness in a land of conformity,
Living tradition tied to nature,
Poetry in cupped hands and scent.

Taste it - it's a tea-cup universe that awaits.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 03/31/2008

Upon watching the documentary film "All In This Tea," I was touched by the sheer poetic beauty of the ancient hills of China, covered in fields of tea bushes. For centuries, master tea makers have captured the nuances of location, weather, tradition, soil, and water in small cups, allowing them to pass one's lips as liquid art. Every detail of environment is captured in each cup, every scrap of a bundle of tea's history blends with the water that makes it, and tells an intricate story in flavor to those who may listen.

Nearly overpowered and under threat of extinction by vast commercialization in the form of mass tea exporters, this was feared a dying art. Through the efforts of a man from the West who knew the true flavor of honestly authentic hand-made teas, a hole was pushed through the wall. A new way opened up for the art to survive, and thrive.

From the factories to history to the smallest hand-crafted details and most ornate ceremonies, this is the visual poetry of tea's truth, and how it is both coming home to China and appearing in America. As a cup of tea warms the hands, "All In This Tea" warms the heart, with knowledge and hope.

See it on the Sundance Channel Tuesday, April 29th at 9:35 pm Eastern and Pacific.

Dan Stafford
Publisher - The Great Lakes Zephyr - Wind Energy & Hydrogen Journal
www.whizzyrds.com/Windblog.html

www.sundancechannel.com/

www.allinthistea.com/

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Throw-Away People...

Throw-Away People...

Out to pasture young,
Fifty isn't too old,
Nor fifty-five.

When people are just a ledger entry,
In a world of "throw-away..."

Society is insane.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/09/2017

"Rembrandt Sleeping," Poem # 25

If A Raindrop Had Eyes...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 28, 2008 at 9:13pm

If A Raindrop Had Eyes...

Floating in a sea of breezes,
Heated, excited, expanded,
The sky is pulling and I fly from blue to nearly black.

Chilled through I shrink,
Speeding toward a mountain top,
Sparkling like a jewel in a sea of stars.

Resting in windy frozen silence,
Contemplating stars and sunshine,
A crack - and my congregation bullets down-slope.

Warming we slither down in congregation,
Picking up toys to play with,
Rocks and pebbles and sticks and paper and molecules.

We sweep all before us,
Anything lying or thrown in our path,
Pills and dead weeds and the things that killed them.

Muddy we sweep into the sea,
Carrying it all,
And some we even keep when we expand up.

Some day soon you'll drink me - and all that I carry.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 03/28/2008


Wednesday, July 12, 2017

A Highly-Charged Particle...

A Highly-Charged Particle...

The stress of the pennies,
They don't rain from Heaven.

A bucket of marital bliss,
Wrapped in a dollar-sign bow.

The wires buzz and hum.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/08/2017

Rembrandt Sleeping, poem #24

The Great Yuku...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 5, 2008 at 5:23am

The Great Yuku...

Once there was a dragon,
Creature of lightning flashes and sparks,
Master of a sea of dreams,
Subject fishes flying low over the waves,
Dropping poetry from their teeth in tiny splashes.

Rainbows and memories are the treasures in the dragon lair,
Missing posts fought out by thieving gremlins,
Who have no dreams of their own.

I sat in a cigar chair smoking,
The Dragon saw me as a child-god,
Twisted and spinning in the mists of real-time,
A mystery of zen-karma lost in emotional currents,
Trying to save a world from its own blindness,
Bearing nothing but a pen and notebook.

I let free a puff of smoke,
To the Dragon's great delight,
Flipped the ash from my cigar,
Jotted down a few lines,
Turned into a zeppelin fish,
Dreaming loudly,
I raced out over the sea.



AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/05/2008

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Dry...

Dry...

In the midst of nothing,
Sleep is calling,
The well has nothing,
No Muse to move me.

Set the alarm and drift,
Nothing.

So that was last night...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/08/2017

Rembrandt Sleeping, poem # 23

Sweetheart Moon...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 23, 2008 at 11:15pm

Sweetheart Moon...

Sweetheart moon,
Over you,
Shining bright,
Silver light,
Shining down,
On your hair,
Your lovely gown.

Strolling the beach,
Aside the sea,
Waves that roar,
Endlessly,
Hand in hand,
As we move,
All the way.

Starlight jewels,
Abed the ink of night,
Warm winds,
Caress my sighs,
Heart afire,
Over you,
Timeless tale,
We shall share.

Love me now,
Hold on tight,
Forever walk,
The sands of night,
My sweet Love,
My heart's delight,
Forever found,
Forever right.

Sweetheart moon,
Over you,
Shining bright,
Silver light,
Shining down,
On your hair,
Your lovely gown.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/24/2008

Monday, July 10, 2017

The Legend Of Dac…

Post by AquarianM on May 1, 2008 at 2:27am

The Legend Of Dac…

$15.00 is a small loan,
Even in 1982,
A war-weary collections department,
Frustrated after five years failing,
Seeing through to never-land,
Outburst arisen.

The party at Mom’s that night,
Jokes and a few beers,
One more time I ask,
“Return me mine, Terry.”

Refusal in my own home?

Leave then!

The crowd intrigued,
Drama before dawn,
Arguing back and forth,
“Hand it over or flee the place!”

“No! Two hamburgers on Tuesday!”

“Five years of Tuesdays!
Pay up or get out!”

“No! Two hamburgers on Tuesday!”

“F-you, Terrydactyl !”

Dac for life – worth every penny,
His beak still writ large,
As per the nom de plume.

They still roll on the floor just to think it,
As time stops for a belly roll once more.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 03/01/2008

Sunday, July 09, 2017

At The Heart Of The Dream...

Post by AquarianM on May 18, 2008 at 10:11pm

At The Heart Of The Dream...

I've heard what life is,
Slow,
Conceptualized,
Approximated,
Rendered,
Interpreted,
Dreamed,
Acted,
Felt.

Dreamers,
Change your dreams,
Take the reigns of the nightmare,
Ride for gentle pastures,
Recognize life wherever it is,
Before every breath in the world is stilled.

Outside the dream is inside the dream,
If we dream it right we survive,
If we dream it better we thrive,
If we dream it best,
Love is all we really ever needed.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 05/19/2008

www.pachamama.org/

Saturday, July 08, 2017

Our Hands...


Post by AquarianM on Mar 6, 2008 at 4:33am

Our Hands...

A hammer is light,
Swinging it flashes,
Nails driven quicksilver,
Houses or crosses,
In our hands.

Fish hooks and old leather,
Falling coconuts adrift,
Dying palms in a rising sea,
A plastic swirl bigger than the USA,
All at our hands.

A garden of summer delights,
Picnic for the hungry,
By the lazy riverside,
Flying cottonwood seed,
Prepared and tended by our hands.

Double edges need no swords.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 03/06/2008

Friday, July 07, 2017

Good Night Maine Coon...

Good Night Maine Coon...

Orange ball of purring,
Fuzzy good-night.

A heart the size of California,
My buddy Corona.

Who needs words,
When you can head-butt and purr?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07-06-2017


Ducking The Poison Pen...


Post by AquarianM on May 15, 2008 at 9:40pm

Ducking The Poison Pen...

Rage,
Fire,
Fury,
Frustration higher than Everest.

I can no longer climb that Mount,
It's peak is lost to my failing and misted sight,
As the air is vacuumed from my lungs,
Horror strikes.

I have tried to burn no pages,
To leave only kind words,
But my ink is ablaze in green flame and the well overflowing.

This unholy house is consuming me,
Just as America is burning,
Smoldering just out of sight,
I know I am but one of millions.

What will it take before the rule of compassion surpasses the lie of law?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 05/15/2008

Thursday, July 06, 2017

Burning For The Lie...


Post by AquarianM on May 27, 2008 at 2:13am

Burning For The Lie...

Have you ever had your dream broken,
Hope left completely unspoken,
Found you had no chance,
To go another round of the pin-head dance,
Lost your way wandering in a trance,
Nothing left to say,
Just another day,
Burning for the lie?

No place to call home,
Chips crashed all alone,
All for number one brings on the fall,
'Cause no one's ever for us all,
The system is completely broken,
Each of us made just a token,
Just another way,
Of burning for the lie.

Tell me to work hard,
For my just reward,
But it all rolls uphill,
Never our dreams fulfilled,
I'm shaken and I'm chilled,
It's a horse-sized bitter pill,
All the edges fray,
Burning for the lie.

My belief is somewhere,
Under the floorboards the bank is going to own.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 05/27/2008

Wednesday, July 05, 2017

No Wasted Moments...

No Wasted Moments...

If sleep is a necessity,
It is also an enemy.

While I love dreams,
There is a limit I face.

Only so many hours,
Only so many days,
Years on this Earth,
Those are always counted.

If only dreams were instant...

---Or lives endless.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07-05-2017

"Rembrandt Sleeping," poem # 21

Luminaries...


Post by AquarianM on Jun 17, 2008 at 7:03am

Luminaries...


June is rampant lush in the Midwest,
Utter green in every-other-day rain and heat,
Sun hazed down upon us like clock hands noon,
The hay is tall enough to mow before half past,
Birds flutter and sing about all busy.

I sit in my lawn chair,
Reading of kime and art,
Slow with the scent of fine cigar and kona coffee,
Light falling like a slow drain as orange and indigo fly up,
And there over the fence,
The first rulers of summer come out,
Right where low grass meets hay.

Yellow-green flashes in twilight always make a child of me –

Delighted.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 06/17/2008

(*Kime – the complete focus of attention, intention, and action as a Karate move is executed correctly.)

Tuesday, July 04, 2017

Sparklers...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 6, 2011 at 3:21am

Sparklers...

www.archive.org/download/Sparklers_736/Sparklers.mp3

Sparklers,

Fire in the sky,

Fourth of July,

Let the bombs die,

Just try,

Sparklers,
Firecrackers,
Hot celebration,
Of the nation,
Hyper-inflation,
This is our space,

Sparklers,

Fire in the sky,

See the pretty colors,

Falling all around,

Flutter and spark,

In the dark,

Hot Summer,

Hot love,

Sparklers,

Keep it bright,

In the night,

Independence,

Full of remembrance,

Sparklers,

Color in the dark,

I love this freedom,

Let's love this spark,

Sparklers,

Beautiful tonight.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/26/2008 - music & lyrics
Last Edit: Jul 6, 2011 at 3:28am by AquarianM
Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.
---------------------------------------
All of my published poetry is at:
www.lulu.com/spotlight/coloringbookforallages

This River I Run...


Post by AquarianM on Jul 2, 2008 at 8:13am

This River I Run...

There's a place I come from,
That little midwestern town by the river,
I can never escape it's call,
No matter how far I go,
Trees green,
Water near the same,
Limestone and dams,
The festivals of summer,
A glimpse of peace crosses my face as afternoon sunshine,
As the boat cruises down the Rock,
I feel at home,
Where I know in my bones,
This place has never left my blood,
In spite of pains,
In spite of travels,
In spite of gains,
This river I run is at the root of me,
These banks hallowed ground,
My childhood screams it's name,
My family's fate has long been surrounded by it,
The seeming languid waters deceptive in their power,
My grandmother and grandfather,
Mother and father,
Brothers, sisters,
Cousins, aunts, uncles,
Near all have watched this water run by,
And timeless times I remember,
As lives flow slowly by,
Their seeming languid pace deceptive in their power,
And I thank God for moments most would call me fool for,
To cherish this small, unknown, struggling town,
This place so often ridiculed,
But as they often say here,
Beloit Wisconsin calls you,
One can leave,
But in some fashion,
Everyone winds up coming back,
Even if just in memory of times loved or hated.
Happy as I am,
I miss the river I run.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/16/2001


Beloit & Janesville, WI underwater, Rock River still rising...

Wish I could go up & help sandbag or something - it's really bad. Beloit is my home town for those who don't know, and Janesville is right next to it.

www.gazettextra.com/photos/galleries/gazette-staff-flooding-photos/

www.beloitdailynews.com/shared-content/gallery/?galleryid=1&gallery_page=0&album_page=0&albumid=1&mediaid=82



Sparklers...

Sparklers...

http://www.archive.org/download/Sparklers_736/Sparklers.mp3

Sparklers,

Fire in the sky,

Fourth of July,

Let the bombs die,

Just try,

Sparklers,
Firecrackers,
Hot celebration,
Of the nation,
Hyper-inflation,
This is our space,

Sparklers,

Fire in the sky,

See the pretty colors,

Falling all around,

Flutter and spark,

In the dark,

Hot Summer,

Hot love,

Sparklers,

Keep it bright,

In the night,

Independence,

Full of remembrance,

Sparklers,

Color in the dark,

I love this freedom,

Let's love this spark,

Sparklers,

Beautiful tonight.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/26/2008 - music & lyrics

Monday, July 03, 2017

Independence...


Post by AquarianM on Jul 3, 2008 at 1:03am

Independence...

Sparklers and bangers,
Lightning bugs and picnics,
Swimming hard and warm stars,
Love in the Summer,
Watermelon delight.

It seems so easy,
I always think,
But this dream we live,
It needs eyes that see,
Every day.

Keep your heart in it,
While you see those lights.

Sparklers and bangers,
Lightning bugs and picnics,
Swimming hard and warm stars,
Love in the Summer,
Watermelon delight.

It seems so easy.

AquarianM

(C) 07/03/2008
By: Daniel A. Stafford


My new sax tune just finished this morning - "Sparklers."

www.archive.org/download/Sparklers_736/Sparklers.mp3

Sunday, July 02, 2017

Alief Texas 1978...


Post by AquarianM on Jul 25, 2008 at 2:25am

Alief Texas 1978...

All the Gang was round back then,
Young and hale,
Big Lisa & Little Lisa,
Mona & Kit,
Juanita & Angie,
Scott & Michelle & Nick,
I'm sure I'm forgetting a face or two.

Mischief was always the order of the day,
One a.m. night flights to Galveston beach,
Sunshine in the pool,
Wild Parties with parents gone,
Teenage angst and lust in the heat.

What to do with life,
Who grew huge hooters,
Who didn't,
Where was life going.

I stood up for Lifeguard Laura,
Two years older than me,
Southern Belle glam and charm,
Called me her "cuter than a bugs ear" hero,
Cuddlier than her teddy bear,
Left my puppy heart behind when we moved.

It was always like that,
Uprooted every time I grew an inch,
Nothing stays in place,
Except the rosy glow of thirty years patina on old memories.

They're all lost now,
Scattered to time,
I hope all still hale and alive.

I wonder if I'd see a one on that moonlit beach.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(c) 07/25/2008

Saturday, July 01, 2017

Rock County Nights...


Post by AquarianM on Jul 25, 2008 at 4:35am

Rock County Nights...

Is there a band playing tonight,
Or will it be the DJ under the light?
Should we cruise Pier 44,
Or the City Limits once more?

Wet T-shirt Thursdays?

You said Gyro's Lounge?
How much can we scrounge?
Pulaski's has a killer floor,
And I want to dance some more.

Pitcher of Water Melon cooler, sunset in glass.

Are they Dropping The Bomb on me?
Is there a cover or is it free?
Man those girls move fine,
Might just make one mine.

Moving in stereo to the rhythm.

Colored lights and a sequin strobe ball,
Gettin' tank topped and bouncin' off the wall.
Lover Boy and Judas Priest,
It was a dancers' feast.

Thump, thump, think I'll do The Bump.

I see what you're shakin',
And I'm hoppin' 'n swayin'.
Back Bar punches out the Metal,
After we go find a kettle.

Let go of that Swamp Water, man!
It's Ladies' Night!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/02/2000

Author's Comments
In my very late teen years and twenties, Beloit and Janesville, Wisconsin were home to the best dance clubs around, folks used to come from out of state just to hit the floors and boogie down. I put a few moves in in my time, too. Every one of the places I used to go to has either closed, burned, or just went under. It's a sad state of affairs. Winter nights walking home after two in the morning smiling...