Blessed Rain...

The tawny edges of death color the drought,
The worst in a hundred years they say,
Trees of Fall in mid-July .

The endless heat drains you like a carotid cut.

In the struggle of bucket brigades and hoses,
The falling pond where moss sweeps clear the water,
Even the mud is gone yellow and cracked.

The grey skies have come and gone simply spitting upon us.

The tease of dry dark clouds eats at the spirit,
Not a mosquito whines at an ear - not even one,
The herons stare starkly at receding ripples of brackish muck.

The scientists can battle with politicians until the cows come home.

I just thank God that today came the blessed rain.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/26/2005

Le Aqua Na Sand Castles...

Dreams -

Sunlight and flowing gold -

Childhood cameos built on sand -

Golden ripples on lake water -

Hours building sand castles, a green leaf flag perched atop -

Parent and child on forever's shore -

When the green trees rustle,
When the black water ripples,
When the sunlight dapples gentle waves -

The clock will stop -

I will remember childhood dreams.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/25/2005

River Fest...

I was born in a little town in the Midwest,
In the heart of Winter when it was the harshest cold,
In a small industrial town with a mighty river run through it's heart,
The length of the city it flows,
From far North in Wisconsin down to the big Mississippi,
Seeming to freeze over in this time,
Never believe moving water is more than passingly solid,
Stay far from the dam,
The water is green with a strong scent as such rivers like to be,
People have been drowned in it from time to time,
And such is the nature of rivers...


In the summertime when the leaves are green,
It's hot by the river and there is a long park along it's Eastern bank,
Maybe two miles and a bit more,
The trees are large and towering mostly,
The lagoon where the pedal boats play has a warming house,
They plow it for skating in colder winters,
But in the joyous Summer the leaves and water are green,
And everyone from here goes out that weekend,
In boats packed like a school,
In flowing human rivers of feet,
Strolling up and down the sidewalk there are carnival rides,
Bright colored lights and popcorn and hot dogs and cotton candy,
Children darting forever around the trees and laughing on the rides,
And all along the park stages and music -
Country bands - blues bands - rock bands - polka bands,
Time crosses over in a small town and the river flows seemingly slow,
Cheap Trick is on the big stage again tonight,
Way down by Portland Ave - local boys from twenty minutes away,
This river runs through their town too,
For all of us it's banks are stuck in our definition of home.


In child days I walked hand-holding along these banks and sidewalks,
Seeing all the rides and dreaming of being frightened out of my wits,
Sugar cookie in the hand not in Noni's and it was Summer,
Bright lights and lightning bugs were filling my eyes,
The cotton candy puffs were like giant balls of wished-for Heaven,
And I learned to stay a good bit back from the river,
Because I might fall in and drown,
And there would be pasta with meatballs on the table tonight,
When the teenagers and twentylings owned this place,
These lights by the river and the endless flowing sounds.


In first love days I walked hand-holding along these banks,
She had bright blue eyes the color of pale ice like when I was born,
Raven hair and part Native American only neither of us used those words for it,
I almost missed the carnival lights by the river completely,
Every ten minutes we ran into friends somewhere in the flow down the sidewalk,
All going to see Cheap trick play for the first time here,
River fest was growing and my dreams were growing,
Dangerously I swam the currents,
Never knowing her ice blue eyes were the river,
I reveled in my strength swimming,
In joy in that season before the ice came,
I had flashbacks of cotton candy and lights,
She had another man's ring and children later that Winter,
And I swam in the green scented waters freezing and thawing for ten years,
Drifting with whatever flotsam would keep me breathing,
While Summer became half over.


In what I thought were growing up days I walked hands-free along these banks,
Seeing children care-free and lovers and old friends missed since last year,
Or was it the Riverfest five years ago,
Or maybe two but they were here again,
Where the carnival rides played their music and I wondered,
Wishing I were hand-holding here along these banks,
Standing alone as the rock and roll washed over me,
Drinking and walking because I could and it's what we did,
Dancing now and then and pretty eyes reflected the carnival ride lights,
Passing me by like the green water of the river twenty feet away,
But I cared less about cotton candy,
And the hot dogs with chili were all right,
Don't hold the blues on the halfway stage,
Twentyling swimming the riverfest,
Still caught in last year's ice.


In one short summer I walked hand-holding along these banks,
Seeing an occasional old friend and saying hello,
How many years has it been now,
Proud and beaming like the lights on the joyrides,
Awash in the rock and roll she had auburn hair and cinnamon apple eyes,
And I was swimming in the water as I walked,
Understanding it could drag you down dogged my heels,
Worrying like a child wanting to be on the rides,
Hoping the cotton candy was going to be sweet,
Unconscious and vividly awake at the same time,
Cheap Trick was playing the big stage,
And I ate the hot dogs and chili gratefully,
Glad to give whatever I had and in love like a doormat,
Begging for even the touch of cold feet,
I learned after that Summer was gone like the carnival lights,
That no one can respect someone swimming in a river of obsession,
No matter how beautiful the pretty lights and cotton candy,
Too sweet is too sweet is the wisdom,
Yet the ride on the other side of the sidewalk was it was a great summer,
That I'll love likely all my life,
And the green water still flows along and the dregs of that summer,
Long flowed down the Mississippi and out to sea,
Like an old tramp steamer you miss her and all the dancing but she can't keep you,
The stage is empty and they turned out the rock and roll lights.


In another time I walked hand-holding down these banks,
Not seeing a single soul I knew,
Styx was warming up for Cheap trick on the big stage,
It was hot in the Summer night,
Children were darting and crowds were flowing up and down,
Circling the sidewalk circle under the stars and big trees,
Red and green and white boat lights and the occasional firefly,
Glow stick necklaces and the music blaring from the rides,
And I felt solid ground beneath my feet,
A warm hand in mine as the bands played,
Noni and Nono were on the other side of town,
Years in the ground but right here along this river of green water,
Mom was fading to ashes but I didn't know it yet,
Honey was unimpressed with this little town.


But I was born on this river and the music was good,
There was real gold on my finger and I was far from drowning,
The bratwurst and coke were tasting great,
Funny thing it still feels like home,
I've left and come back so many times,
I could feel these banks under my feet and never mistake it,
Maybe next summer I won't be on the pager,
The carnival will set up and the moon will shine on the river,
The bands will play all up and down the heart of the city,
After all this is Rock River we're speaking of,
And I will walk the banks searching for long-forgotten faces,
Yes my brother's out there on his boat,
Got two little boys just like him now,
I'm not sure if Dad or Sis came down this year,
Yeah they're still around here,
No my other Sis is up in Madison,
My other brother's living in the area still,
Step brother's out in Michigan and got married,
How's your mother and your brother,
Yeah Beloit doesn't change that much does it,
By the way how long has it been,
Since I last saw you at Riverfest, here along the Rock?


I was born in a little town in the Midwest,
In the heart of Winter when it was the harshest cold,
In a small industrial town with a mighty river run through it's heart,
The length of the city it flows,
From far North in Wisconsin down to the big Mississippi,
Seeming to freeze over in this time,
Never believe moving water is more than passingly solid,
Stay far from the dam,
The water is green with a strong scent as such rivers like to be,
People have been drowned in it from time to time,
And such is the nature of rivers...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/26/2004


By: Daniel A. Stafford

Author's Comments

I just woke up a few minutes ago, I'd been dreaming of old friends and back home.

Amid Cattails Slowly....

White and sharp and ghostly,
The slightest breath of sound brings wings to loft,
A sign of spring as sure as the sun returns,
Regal and mystical amid the mirrored waters,
The flight above from the Everglades to Illinois and beyond,
I see the White Heron stalking frog princes and fish,
The sunset on white feathers is a glow upon my pond,
And I feel the call of the Druids to love the land,
Still in the gaze of that baleful and piercing eye,
Dancing amid that cattails slowly step by step,
I know there is more beneath the surface,
Awaiting discovery in the coming summer.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 03/03/2005

Embers...

Some might wonder why there's a chamber in my heart that beats for gone,
But I have to wonder why it even gets called that,
I still remember the fallen hair haloed in flaming tresses,
Caressing her shoulders like a cloud aglow.

When I look back I leave the flames and warm my hands upon the embers,
All those places and moments where a spark of tenderness burned in,
Fighting for a football in summer grass that turned into a helpless kiss,
Or wading through tannin water burbling over limestone.

Just a few treasures that I can't speak of much now,
But I lived my dream for a brief summer,
And that warm season doesn't need to be forgotten,
Unconditional is a word that makes it like that.

Let the silent embers glow.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 03/03/2005

Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to all the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.

---

Cosmic Shower Three...

The seven part harmony of grace is a reflection,
All the world is a vast vibration divisible by the louder number of God,
For the Cosmic speaks in the harmony of sevens' effects on three.

It's a song of sorts and one that neither ends nor has limits,
Or a vast intelligence that quietly emphasizes grace,
All around us and yet we believe we can't see.

Perhaps it's too obvious right under our noses,
Because we're only seventy percent the eye of God,
Blended with all the other colors written by Infinite Intelligence.

Love speaks best in a harmonic chord with two parts gratitude,
A simple truth that rests between sunlight and silvery moonglow,
One part oxygen to two parts hydrogen and the most fluid part of everything alive.

Can you feel the spirit each time you walk along the beach,
Feel a cool mist on your face or dance in warm summer rains,
Lick a snowflake from a whirling grey sky near the burble of ice-jeweled creeksong?

Each molecule of vapor in the air can hold a universe,
Each reflection of all there is flowing everywhere upon this world,
Within and all about us and connected to everything upon this Earth.

You know it every time you see it or taste it or scent it or breathe it in,
Water is a sacred thing of utter beauty and now they say the very eye of God,
Perhaps and seeing that all of what we call reality is God's endless song.

Say a prayer of thanks for every snowflake and raindrop,
Love every bit of pristine and clean sparkling brook and lake,
Sing praise for the gift of oceans and rivers and clouds.

The frequency of a human being is over five billion yet divisible by seven,
Seventy percent water which is the only substance able to resonate to every frequency,
In such a beautiful blue world how can you claim never to see miracles?

May God grant you the gift of fresh mountain snow.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 03/02/2005

Author's Comments:
Two must-see sites:
www.bariumblues.com/consc...ystals.htm
www.wellnessgoods.com/messages.asp

Love & Gratitude:

Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to all the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.

Sangiovese Wine:

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http://www.lightverse.com/LightVerseDocLibrary/frmViewDocByID.asp?ID=7880

It's Raining Sangioviese:

Puff Daddy on a fat cigar,
Big red cherry and the scent of fresh smoke,
Left field on the glow in the dark wood arch,
Twist the knob just right it's all very fine,
Old lost legends from time out of mind,
Piano trinkets dance on cello and violin carpet,
Spring is on and long, long ball gowns are out,
Apple blossom left and cherry blossom right,
Finally got over it all and closed our eyes,
The darkness was quiet once more,
Forty Six was still way too close,
But after the party was over,
There was so much to grieve,
So much to be thankful for,
People were torn to shreds between,
Heaven and Hell both pulling like Clydesdales,
Until the vines were picked clean by a tornado,
And everyone put out pots and pans,
Instead of filling them with tears,
It was raining Sangioviese,
Blood red deep and delicious,
Tilt your glass and dance,
And get a lid on the rain barrel quick,
If it it ever stops,
Or so the legend went...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 05/28/2003

Author's Comments
Just watched The Pianist on DVD. How incredibly much the survivors had to mourn and celebrate at the same time. All of them, everywhere. Sangioviese is a very full flavored Italian wine that is a knockout with pork or barbecue. It is also mixed with Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon to make Chianti. Americans consume one in three bottles of all sangioviese produced, and it is primarily a wine of Tuscany, which is where my grandfather Gino (Nono) was from.
-----------------------------------------------

http://huntingsociety.org/Sangiovese.html

Thank you for visiting SanGioviese Wines. We try to provide you with the most complete information we can about how to use wine with food. If you have recipes to contribute, please do and we will give you credit if you wish. We update our sources constantly. Please click on the names below for information..

Food to Eat with a Sangiovese

The Sangiovese is the grape of Chianti, the great red wine from Tuscanny. It had a rich, deep flavor with medium acidity that goes well with almost any red meat game. It is not a great wine like a Hermitage or a Chateau Lafite but this medium bodied, very drinkable wine will enhance the flavor oa any game.

History and Characteristics

Montalcino is Tuscany's premier wine-producing town and the Sangiovese has been grown here for over 700 years, almost since time immemorial. It makes a perfect drinking wine suitable with game and particularly the rich ripe flavors of Italian food. Americans love the pure Sangioveses from Montalcino, buying about one of every three bottles produced in recent vintages. (Annual production of Brunello is about 6 million bottles.) And we pounce on great vintages, making the 1999s especially attractive.

Sangiovese is the workhorse grape of Chianti and Italy's leading variety. It is medium bodied with a firm, dry texture and a tannic backbone that allows for moderate aging, a dozen years or more with full-bodied styles, though five to eight years is usually the optimum. Sangiovese has a floral bouquet, which many describe as that of violets, something I've never noticed myself. Cherry aromas and flavors may evolve into leather and tobacco with age. Throughout there is a touch of earth and always that zing of acidity.

Transported to California, it has a wonderful harmony of fruit, tannins and acidity that make a great Sangiovese so striking. Most are very close to drinking well when they are released. They are aged a minimum of two years in cask or barrel, then another two years in bottle before they are shipped from the cellars. This long maturation helps refine the wine to a degree greater than what is achieved with, say, California Cabernet or Bordeaux, which in general spend no more than two years in barrel and another six months in bottle before they are released.

"Today's Brunellos have a lovely freshness and beautiful fruit that give you great pleasure right away," says Guerrini of Fuligni. "That's our strong point. The wines have slightly lower acidity and the tannins are much better now. The wines are really good from the beginning."

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http://www.newcastle-wine.co.uk/redwines/productssimple0.html

Inycon Sangiovese, 2002, Italy 6 Sicily is becoming a major player in exporting to the UK now. First we had the excellent Planeta wines now we have a new barrage of wines including this one, with a stolen grape variety from Chianti! Ripe blackcurrant and chocolate with some soft tannins, very good. £4.99 (WR)
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http://forums.egullet.org/index.php?showtopic=48643

We opened a bottle of the 2000 on Saturday. It was closed and had a very strange nose for about a half hour after decanting. Then it opend up into the beautiful wine I expected, very forward with plummy sangioviese fruit. perfectly balanced with a very nice finish. More sangioviese then cabernet in the mouth and on the nose.

I compare it to the Segerretta Belguardo 2001 because in our market the prices are comparable. Very much nicer (the Campaccio) for immediate drinking.

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http://www.newcastle-wine.co.uk/about.html

Generalising, Old world countries produce classic wines stemming from the country’s indigenous individuality and the classic grape varieties. For example, Italy’s Tuscan flagship wine is Chianti, made from Sangioviese or Bordeaux classics are blended from the noble grapes Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Cabernet Franc.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

http://www.wineguy.org/ItalianWinesatOliveGarden.html

Wineguy's Notes
Italy produces more wine and has a greater diversity of grapes varieties than any wine making country in the world.
Italy is as diverse in its wine making as it is in its culture. Today we are reviewing Italian Wines at the Olive Garden.
Spumante (Sparkling)


7)Chianti Classico, Riserva Rocca delle Macie Rocca delle Macie just means fortress of littles stones and their
winery is literally a fortress of little stones. This Chianti Classico is a blend of Sangiovese, Cabernet Sauvignon and
Merlot. Chianti Classico means that it comes from the oldest and the best district in the Chianti Region.
Lambrusco, Riunite
Rosso, Principato

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http://www.asc-wines.com/en/winery_it.html

Tenuta Col D'orcia / Tuscany

Founded in the 18th century, this highly acclaimed estate in the Montalcino Commune, south of Siena, Saint Angelo, Colle, produces Tuscany's finest wines from Sangioviese and Cabernet Sauvignon grapes.

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http://www.grazianosgourmet.com/sp/list.php?page=4&prodtype=17

616 Tinto Don Miguel Gascón Don Miguel Gascon Sangioviese $ 14.00
2000
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My absolute favorite Sangioviese:

http://www.danzantewines.com/sangiovese.html

Flying Fish...

I saw the sky in gun metal grey,
There were dots over the horizon.

Lost on the floating scales I was dreaming,
Soaring over water like spirits in the morning mist,
Silent-eyed souls like flying fish.

I sat at the table by warm candle light,
Red wine with a halo refraction on the tablecloth,
The glare of silver was not as bright as my soul in that moment,
There was a lifetime smile across from me speaking in silence.

It wasn't so much the what as the when,
All the silent ghosts hovering,
Taking this or bringing that for their evening,
I wondered at being their servant in my turn but was un-trained,
Thinking my wishes for how to someday thank their flight.

I never look down my nose,
I might miss the flight of fish,
Those who make our life so much more graced,
Little reward in terms of respect in many cases,
I speak my "thank you" at every possible passing,
Because I recognize it takes every kind of fish to make my ocean live.

The flight of fish to my table is all the evidence I need.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/09/2005

Author's Comments:
This poem is dedicated to waiters, to busboys, to maids and shoe-shiners. To every one of those whose time and effort makes our time and efforts possible. if we had to handle everything they do ourselves, we'd never be able to do much of what we do. At every chance i make sure to thank them, and make them know I appreciate what they do. We were out for my birthday dinner tonight and this point was once again brought home to me very clearly. I wrote about the celebration here: www.whizzyrds.com/020805_Birthday.html - so I though I'd write about those who helped make it wonderful up there, where the poem is.

Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to all the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.

Dan's Birthday 2005

I had a wonderful birthday celebration in 2005 - in recognition of some of those who helped make it so, here's all about it:

http://www.whizzyrds.com/020805_Birthday.html

For my Birthday in 2005:

Just before I went to sleep this morning, my mother and father in-law Sally and Leonard
called and wished me a happy birthday. Thank you, Len & Sally!
(Yesterday was their 54th anniversary. Happy anniversary, you two love-birds!!)
PS: They sing a pretty good "happy birthday to you."

---

When I woke up this evening, I had a very nice happy birthday message from my
step-son Dan on my phone. Thank you, Dan!

---

Dinner...


(Click on the menu above to go to Catch Thirty-Five's web site.)

I had the Catch 35 crab bisque to start, followed by the blackened mahi-mahi
with andouille sausage etoufèe sauce. Saren had the seared Chilean sea bass
with Hawaiian ginger-scallion sauce. With dinner, we each had a glass of the
Charles Klug Napa Valley Merlot wine, which is a heavy red wine. Dessert
Was Signature Key Lime pie for Saren & the AWESOME Triple-threat chocolate
cheese cake for me. The food was OUTSTANDING.
(Of course we each had generous samples of the other's desserts!)
Catch Thirty-Five was kind enough to give me the cheese cake on the house
for my birthday. Thank you!

(Thank you to our friend Tom for the gift certificate to Catch Thirty-Five!!!)
A just as big THANK YOU to my beautiful wife Saren for everything else!

I was wearing my flying fish Hawaiian shirt from our
Florida coast tour, with black leather jacket. Saren
was wearing her purple shirt and funky necklace from Chico's,
and we both looked very festive and hopeful for the coming
Spring weather.

My brother Jeff and then my sister Lana and her daughter Ariel called me
while we were at dinner to wish me happy birthday! Thank you, Jeff, Lana, and Ariel!!

---

After Dinner:


(Click on the picture to go to the Quigley's web page)

We went to Quigley's Irish Pub and had Bailey's & coffee while I had a big
La Gloria Cubana Serie R cigar.


(Click on the cigar to see more about these.)

The La Gloria Serie R is a seven inch by 54 ring guage. I had the natural
wrapper rather than the maduro.

While we were at the pub, there were quite a few people there speaking in
British accents and drinking Guinness Stout. We almost felt like we were
on an evening out somewhere in Ireland or England. Everyone was cheerful and
having a good time. We reminisced about visiting friends and helping our friend
Holly move into her new town home. My sister Lori and her fiancè John called
while we were here to wish me a happy birthday! Thank you, Lori & John!

---

After Quigley's, it was time to come home and tell you all about it...

Thank you to my friends, Art Paul, Eric, and Kat for the birthday e-mails.
Thank you to my brother Larry & his wife Patty for the cool birthday presents like
the "What The Bleep" book and everything. Thank you to my Honey Saren & our
friend Tom for the Awesome Elvis cards, and to Tom also for the "Outlaw Bible
of American Poetry".
(I'm reading a little bit of that every day, it's got some very interesting work in it.)

My friend Luis & his wife Cece will be celebrating with me this coming Saturday, and
We had an awesome Japanese steak & shrimp-flipper dinner at Yao Shue's this past
Saturday with our friends, Paulie & Cheree. (It was Cheree's Birthday on Feb. 7th)
After dinner we went back to their house and sang karaoke until way late.
Happy birthday, Cheree! Saren & I both had a great time.

Thank you to all those of you who called with kind birthday wishes and
who I wasn't able to think of at the moment I was creating this page!

It's all the wonderful friends and family like you guys that make each year
worth reaching. I hope we all have many more years in each others' lives.

Dan Stafford

I'm sure there are some of you that I've not gotten on the page, but thank you to all of you!

Dan

By Your Calculation...

The silence of beautiful voices haunts me like a cold winter night,
The stars above call without speaking,
And the faery ring around the Moon is at a quarter this sky,
Just a few hours from the rise of a brilliant Winter Sun.

Still you are swearing black-hearted and frigid,
So busy counting every snowflake in the pile,
Certain your wretched gold must lie beneath the bank.
And the glare of your Antarctic indifference may just kill us all.

Put a good woman away out of work in a dark night,
Silence the warmth of clever-jeweled voices,
For the pennies that lie upon that now bare floor shine to your fingers,
And the despairing silence is the easier course in this blizzard...

By your calculation.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/28/2005

Author's comments:
Barnes & Noble corporate has eliminated their Events Coordinator position,
and canceled all events at specific stores that were not meeting an un-specified
revenue volume. Of course it doesn't matter that the store where Plainfield Live Poetry
reads is in a subdivision that is currently building five thousand new homes within three miles of it,
or that they had a wonderful person in the position. I just got the news the day after one of
the best readings we've had, with things poised to begin growing. I'm choosing to look at it
as an opportunity to find a better venue, but it does chafe a bit, and I am holding hopes
that the gal that was handling events there gets a new gig soon.

January's Sign...

I heard it on the radio as the tiny snow flakes fell,
Just as she was singing "Kiss Me," the D.J. broke the news,
Something I can only wish I saw...

The tiny lake effect flakes were dancing,
Road humming under my tires about going home,
Sun was shining behind me East through the thinning clouds...

Cold and clearing,
Salt spray painting my windshield like fog,
I was just about to sing along with the chorus...

"I wish we hadn't missed it,"
She said in her best smooth radio voice,
"...I hear they're very, very rare..."

"The beautiful snow rainbow everyone's been calling about."

Some people complain about January in Chicago,
I just wish I hadn't missed it.

January's sign...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/27/2005

Author's Comments:
True story this morning, listening to The Light, http://www.WLIT.com

To Be A Child of Muses...

Who else could see a dust speck floating in a ray of sunshine,
Single it out and see it as a star in some Lilliputian universe of dreams,
Speak it's name upon the wind even as it was slipped into your whisper ear?

In the shadow mind with your heart-eye open to listen...

Who could see a yellow flower growing alongside tarmac at seventy five,
Tell the whole world of every breeze and raindrop each petal touched,
Whisper out every secret of a life lived in one place all in a single springtime like a child?

Swimming the current of sentimentality like a dolphin racing a great white clipper ship...

Who else could stand upon a flying thistle seed,
Brush a kiss upon the cheek of the amber Moon,
Then spin a pillow story around the crown of a young child well loved?

Seeing strength in the keenest eye of make-believe Paradises...

Yet somehow these velvet visions become real,
Watercolored upon the pages of history where only Love wins in the end,
Breathed out in insight-guided whispers of inner-speak...

Simple things in the world of a child of Muses.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/25/2005

Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to all the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.

It Was A Fish Floater...


© 01/22/2005 by Daniel A. Stafford

Stars and Stones...

Is it something tribal or just a hint of survival,
A place in the heart so dark and lonely only God could fathom,
That black hole of a missing soul gone too far from heaven,
Just a dream I see when a certain stone tells me to believe,
Wrapped up in silk and flying in the future,
Dancing like a dervish under my silly skin,
A dream of Neptune for children of Uranus, Saturn rising,
Garnets and amethyst in the night,
Polished and shining and forever recorded,
We were poetry whose page burned,
An ancient ritual of the Spring's return,
Whispered in a far too brief dream,
Like the fallen leaf turning scarlet,
Too bright and pretty for forever to bear,
Still, we once were there.

It was written in the stars...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/14/2005

Celebratory Lights...

In the January darkness cold breath is rising away,
God's house is full of candles tonight,
I'll never stop looking up at them,
Stars up on high crisp and clear,
These celebratory lights,
A season of rest,
Sleeping frost,
Silent.


AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/14/2005

A Majority of Angels...

Wings aren't all they've been cracked up to be,
Some darlings caught between moments whisper softly,
Dear prayers rise up like smoke in the night.

How many hearts really just want everyone and everything to be alright?

The majority of Angels stand between human heartbeats,
Just one second away, just all around you,
Looking out through the carefully-labeled toughness mask.

It's something you have to count with insight.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/13/2005

The Quiet "Why?"

Don't whisper that, or even hint.
It's no place to shine the sun.

I'm half-believing, half fearing.
Unable to admit to myself that, that...

My world isn't that way, it just isn't.
Everything will be just fine, in time.

Don't whisper that, or even hint.
It's no place to shine the sun.

I'm half-believing, half fearing.
Unable to admit to myself that, that...

I refuse to see the reflection off of tin foil hats.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/13/2005

Opalescent Aquamarine...

A soft color reminiscent of sea foam,
Gilt with gold-flecked froth and warm as summer rain,
Just as cool as perfection while I float in it's effervescent hue.

Vision of smooth pastel translucence...

I would wear it in a jewel or paint it delicately upon my walls,
Here within my heart I swim in it's incredible peaceful beauty,
I feel the Earth's embrace upon seeing that color.

Warm sands of time washed within it...

Like returning to a tidal pool in a primordial time,
This color is the next to embrace the subconscious of the world,
A gentle persistent splash of healing and clear knowledge.

The ultimate color of teeming life...

The color of unconditional love,
Unending yet always quenched thirst to know,
It is my gently rolling spiritual sea.



AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/09/2005

Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to all the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.

Words Of Water...

It was a black wall moving fast,
Surging upon the beach at 500 miles per hour,
Sweeping like the broom of God,
Amidst all the wailing and cacophonous roar,
Driving it's own wind of change.

I could write a thousand words on each of one hundred fifty thousand deaths.

Instead I write these few words on another current,
That after the blackness swirled back out to sea,
Hundreds and then thousands and then millions gave,
Some going and some sharing,
Incredible need reaches incredible numbers of hearts.

There is a wall in another sea greater than a tsunami.

From deep in the Ocean of Hearts a great wave arises,
Lapping the shores of grief over and over,
Common people and un-common people alike,
Hands and hearts extended amidst a sea of tears,
Is a groundswell of sympathy and kindness and compassion.

Words of water indeed...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/08/2005

Oklahoman Minister Speaks Out:

Dr. Robin Meyers, Oklahoma University Peace Rally, November 14, 2004:

"As some of you know, I am minister of Mayflower Congregational Church in Oklahoma City, an Open and Affirming, Peace and Justice church in northwest Oklahoma City, and professor of Rhetoric at Oklahoma City University. But you would most likely have encountered me on the pages of the Oklahoma Gazette, where I have been a columnist for six years, and hold the record for the most number of angry letters to the editor.

Tonight, I join ranks of those who are angry, because I have watched as the faith I love has been taken over by fundamentalists who claim to speak for Jesus, but whose actions are anything but Christian. We've heard a lot lately about so-called "moral values" as having swung the election to President Bush. Well, I'm a great believer in moral values, but we need to have a discussion, all over this country, about exactly what constitutes a moral value. I mean what are we talking about?

Because we don't get to make them up as we go along, especially not if we are people of faith. We have an inherited tradition of what is right and wrong, and moral is as moral does. Let me give you just a few of the reasons why I take issue with those in power who claim moral values are on their side:

When you start a war on false pretenses, and then act as if your deceptions are justified because you are doing God's will, and that your critics are either unpatriotic or lacking in faith, there are some of us who have given our lives to teaching and preaching the faith who believe that this is not only not moral, but immoral.

When you live in a country that has established international rules for waging a just war, build the United Nations on your own soil to enforce them, and then arrogantly break the very rules you set down for the rest of the world, you are doing something immoral.

When you claim that Jesus is the Lord of your life, and yet fail to acknowledge that your policies ignore his essential teaching, or turn them on their head (you know, Sermon on the Mount stuff like that we must never return violence for violence and that those who live by the sword will die by the sword), you are doing something immoral.

When you act as if the lives of Iraqi civilians are not as important as the lives of American soldiers, and refuse to even count them, you are doing something immoral.

When you find a way to avoid combat in Vietnam, and then question the patriotism of someone who volunteered to fight, and came home a hero, you are doing something immoral.

When you ignore the fundamental teachings of the gospel, which says that the way the strong treat the weak is the ultimate ethical test, by giving tax breaks to the wealthiest among us so the strong will get stronger and the weak will get weaker, you are doing something immoral.

When you wink at the torture of prisoners, and deprive so-called "enemy combatants" of the rules of the Geneva Convention, which your own country helped to establish and insists that other countries follow, you are doing something immoral.

When you claim that the world can be divided up into the good guys and the evil doers, slice up your own nation into those who are with you, (or with the terrorists?), and then launch a war which enriches your own friends and seizes control of the oil to which we are addicted, instead of helping us to kick the habit, you are doing something immoral.

When you fail to veto a single spending bill, but ask us to pay for a war with no exit strategy and no end in sight, creating an enormous deficit that hangs like a great millstone around the necks of our children, you are doing something immoral.

When you cause most of the rest of the world to hate a country that was once the most loved country in the world, and act like it doesn't matter what others think of us, only what God thinks of you, you have done something immoral.

When you use hatred of homosexuals as a wedge issue to turn out record numbers of evangelical voters, and use the Constitution as a tool of discrimination, you are doing something immoral.

When you favor the death penalty, and yet claim to be a follower of Jesus, who said an eye for an eye was the old way, not the way of the kingdom, you are doing something immoral.

When you dismantle countless environmental laws designed to protect the earth which is God's gift to us all, so that the corporations that bought you and paid for your favors will make higher profits while our children breathe dirty air and live in a toxic world, you have done something immoral. The earth belongs to the Lord, not Halliburton.

When you claim that our God is bigger than their God, and that our killing is righteous, while theirs is evil, we have begun to resemble the enemy we claim to be fighting, and that is immoral. We have met the enemy, and the enemy is us.

When you tell people that you intend to run and govern as a "compassionate conservative", using the word which is the essence of all religious faith-compassion, and then show no compassion for anyone who disagrees with you, and no patience with those who cry to you for help, you are doing something immoral.

When you talk about Jesus constantly, who was a healer of the sick, but do nothing to make sure that anyone who is sick can go to see a doctor, even if she doesn't have a penny in her pocket, you are doing something immoral.

When you put judges on the bench who are racist, and will set women back a hundred years, and when you surround yourself with preachers who say gays ought to be killed, you are doing something immoral.

I'm tired of people thinking that because I'm a Christian, I must be a supporter of President Bush, or that because I favor civil rights and gay rights I must not be a person of faith. I'm tired of people saying that I can't support the troops but oppose the war.

I heard that when I was your age, when the Vietnam War was raging. We knew that that war was wrong, and you know that this war is wrong, the only question is how many people are going to die before these make-believe Christians are removed from power?

This country is bankrupt. The war is morally bankrupt. The claim of this administration to be Christian is bankrupt. The only people who can turn things around are people like you, young people who are just beginning to wake up to what is happening to them. It's your country to take back. It's your faith to take back. It's your future to take back.

Don't be afraid to speak out. Don't back down when your friends begin to tell you that the cause is righteous and that the flag should be wrapped around the cross, while the rest of us keep our mouths shut. Real Christians take chances for peace. So do real Jews, and real Muslims, and real Hindus, and real Buddhists, so do all the faith traditions of the world at their heart believe one thing: life is precious. Every human being is precious.

Arrogance is the opposite of faith. Greed is the opposite of charity. And believing that one has never made a mistake is the mark of a deluded man, not a man of faith. "War is the greatest failure of the human race" and thus the greatest failure of faith.

There's an old rock and roll song, whose lyrics say it all: War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing. And what is the dream of the prophets? That we should study war no more, that we should beat our swords into plowshares and our spears into pruning hooks. Who would Jesus bomb, indeed? How many wars does it take to know that too many people have died? What if they gave a war and nobody came? Maybe one day we will find out.

Time to march again my friends. Time to commit acts of civil disobedience. Time to sing, and to pray, and refuse to participate in the madness. My generation finally stopped a tragic war. You can, too!"