evermore, a poem

illumined, a poem

"down and one"

t-rex

___________________________________________________

this is for jameh

love from tio geoffrey

545

5:45 was the time i woke up this morning.  i did fall asleep at 8:30 yesterday, so it makes sense...more or less.

now it's time for some marmite and toast...it's not vegemite (fam, i hope you're chowing down on your stash), but it'll do.  sorry ez, i have to speak the truth.

010011101011010

still at gregs...melon tea is cold.  this conversation behind me is killing me. and not so quietly (think "about a boy").

23

i've decided, starting with my last post, to make the titles of these next few simply numbers.  although, the headline is often the most important aspect of writing web content as it must serve as that tool which grabs the readers attention and impels them to move on down to the next sentence...well, let's see what happens.

aida shoma moborak!

another night in gregs.  i had to pass and push through masses of people protesting in the streets to get up here.  it's an odd feeling for sure.  and yet here i am with my melon tea, and with miles davis playing over the loud speaker.

i stepped out of my flat, just missing bus 23 (there it is!  that's why i was thinking about it.) i stopped to let women, men and children file past me with banners, posters and scarfs waving madly in the air.  a collective call and response echoed from the intersection of ben gurion and hagefen.  brows were furrowed, shoulders were hunched and i responded by popping in my ear plugs and putting my ipod on to norah jones.  fight hate with love.  swimming upstream, burly men with much too serious expressions walked on.  one arm swinging, rhythmically matching their pounding steps - the other, resting solidly on their sons' shoulder.  the boys had the job of holding the banners.  many looked as if they had interrupted a falafel or shwarma dinner to join in the fray as they walked with almost empty wrappers which were promptly thrown to the ground.

i hate the litter.  protest as much as you want...but please, do it in a cleanly manner.

finally past hatzionut, i wound my way to the carmelite.  small groups of huddled arab men and boys clustered about.  every 15 feet someone would point, heads would turn and i would look down to turn up the volume for "breathless" by corinne bailey rae, give them a quick glance and then move on.

i've ridden the carmelite for almost three nights in a row.  the same security guard has greeted me each time.  he is the only other person in all of haifa, and i dare say the world, that knows as intimately as me the inner contents of my backpack.  skipping down the steps, i made it to the landing platform, found a seat  and pulled out my magazine that had a feature article concerning haifa and the recent Ministry push to improve the air quality of the city - haifa has the largest oil refiners in all of israel.  they glow incandescently in the north.

a blonde israeli girl, smelling of alcohol came and sat next to me as the train approached.  i rose, she rose.  i stepped to the train as it stopped, she stood in front of me.  there is a button that you have to push to activate the door to open.  the train had stopped, but she just stood there wavering, not lifting a finger.  i stepped to the aside, pressed a calloused finger to the button and quickly sidled inside so that i could find a single seat somewhere secluded...i don't trust drunk people.

gregs is the same.  except for the slight rearrangement of the couches.  i've taken them completely over with my backpack and computer.  a gaggle of girls are now sitting behind me discussing ricky martin.  "isn't he gay!" apparently he's getting married.

i wish the gang would get here.  i'm almost done with my melon tea.

5

wish for nothing but to wake up and be exhilarated with the love of God. or rather, work for nothing less.

being here, i used to think and feel that there was little time for composure. the rate at which things were occurring came at such a rate that i didn't feel like a complete person at every moment of the day, rather more transitory. but i think that is just the nature of the intensity of working tirelessly at times.

but here i am at 6am, and my heart is pounding. get up everyone, get up!

canada is here

we see him tonight!

educated?

Geoffrey: can you send me the song?

Ezra: heartbeats?

or the theme to lambchops?

Geoffrey: both!

how do you know lambchops!?

Ezra: because american values have spread the world with its hamburgers

Geoffrey: now that i think about it, of course lambchops would be big in nz

Ezra: because we like childrens programs?

or because we love america?

Geoffrey: because you like sheep

Ezra: racist

easy familiarity

i felt something was strange when i arrived back into haifa.  the city seemed more familiar, more easily navigable and accessible.  and ez and i resumed our banter, and luis with his steely blue eyes inclined his head and looked on at our silliness.

i've spent the first few days getting back resting as much as i could.  i even slept in till 9:30 on the two days i could, which is of course unheard of. 

the comfort which i'm getting from being over right now is overwhelming.  i guess it comes from leaving and then coming back...

odds

when i returned my desk looked smaller. and as i sat down to my work computer the night i arrived, the familiarity of this place slowly nudged its way into my fingers, my eyes and my then crossed ankles beneath the chair.

it's good to be here. i'm savoring the productivity.

Beautiful vowels

Eunoia is the shortest word in English containing all five vowels - and it means "beautiful thinking". It is also the title of Canadian poet Christian Bok's book of fiction in which each chapter uses only one vowel.

Mr Bok believes his book proves that each vowel has its own personality, and demonstrates the flexibility of the English language.

from CHAPTER A - FOR HANS ARP

Hassan Abd al-Hassad, an Agha Khan, basks at an ashram - a Taj Mahal that has grand parks and grass lawns, all as vast as parklands at Alhambra and Valhalla. Hassan can, at a handclap, call a vassal at hand and ask that all staff plan a bacchanal - a gala ball that has what pagan charm small galas lack. Hassan claps, and (tah-dah) an Arab lass at a swank spa can draw a man's bath and wash a man's back, as Arab lads fawn and hang, athwart an altar, amaranth garlands as fragrant as attar - a balm that calms all angst. A dwarf can flap a palm branch that fans a fat maharajah. A naphtha lamp can cast a calm warmth.

gracias che (k)

inthedark

phonecamera

m oliver

it stormed last night. and this morning i woke to a soft rain. i've never missed this weather as much as i have here.

and i love walking to work after a rain. it makes me think of mahler, of life and of mary oliver.

Morning Poem
by Mary Oliver

Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange

sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches ---
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands

of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within it

the thorn
that is heavier than lead ---
if it's all you can do
to keep on trudging ---

there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted ---

each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,

whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.

generosity

Be ye the trustees of God amongst His creatures, and the emblems of His generosity amidst His people.

--Baha'u'llah

alarm

conflicts are alarm bells from God saying it's time for you to learn something. - reza m.

ten

10...just 10.

and joni mitchell's "both sides now" plays in the background.

perceptions changed

when i first visited england i was introduced to vegemite. i politely swallowed what i was given as i was a guest in someone's house. but inwardly...i don't think i'd ever tasted something as repulsive.

just the name conjured images of rotten, half eaten cucumbers and corn.

when i first came to israel, i had a brief stay in a friends house and was given toast with marmite. again...i had to supress the gag-reflex. the bread was homemade. i focused on that and ate what i could.

ezra has been trying to get me to eat marmite since i've been here, and up to fairly recently i've sucessfully resisted.

until one day i braved it. and i looked on as ezra prepared a peice of toast with butter, marmite and cheese which i was sure would compltely desire the wonderful feeling from the pancakes we had just finished eating.

suprisingly i loved it. and it served as the perfect salty balance to an otherwise sugar heavy first breakfast.

1. What is Marmite?

Marmite is dark brown-colored savory spread made from the yeast that is a by-product of the brewing industry. It has a very strong, slightly salty flavor. It is definitely a love-it-or-hate-it type of food. It comes in small (2-5 inches high) bulb-shaped glass jars with a distinctive yellow lid.

Children in Britain are generally fed it from the time they are weaned, and most never grow out of it. It has a high B-vitamin content, as well as riboflavin and niacin—and as such is very healthy. (The vitamin-B complex helps prevent anemia.)

there's going to be a wedding soon!!!

dove

a bird in a tree, sitting on a limb, seems different than a bird i see on the street or walking amongst the garbage on the road. i just instinctively react to them differently. one is full of pestilence and is a begger, and the other seems...happy.

i feel sorry for the animals here all the time. i wonder if they would count as the "poor in our midst". i'm sure they do.

traffic

memoirs of a hatzionut

luchador

monument

ya basta

my new rain suit

conjoined twins

birthday luncheon for luis

success!

luis, be proud. this morning i did it. you know, that thing we were talking about.

yesterday, we said goodbye to richard. he worked in my building. other than the senior staff, and one other person, rich had been the only other one to be serving in 10 haparsim longer than me. he's moving back to auckland now with his wife, who no doubt will also be missed.

i looked at him as we had his farewell...and i listened to him speak about his time here...and for all his rougher edges, he's such a good guy. no, that's insufficient. other words that come to mind - strong, stalwart, focused, professional. when he was in business mode, nothing could break him out of it.

ha. this is beginning to sound like an obituary.

i'll miss him - a lot.

hppy brthdy ls

Luis: yea today i didn't wake up and reach for my laptop either!

me: nice!

Luis: i ironed a shirt and said my long obligatory prayer and had breakfast

then checked facebook

me: cool

me: when i get on my computer as the first thing i do...i don't feel spiritual. it's weird. but i automatically put up some sort of barrier that blocks my mind from reflecting on more...proper things in the moment i reorient myself to...existence

Luis: i know! it's weird the first thing you do when you wake up is like the opening sentence of an essay if you mess that up, you've lost the reader's attention or at least it defines how you lead the rest of the day, in a way

me: yeah! that's so true. i'm tired of not waking up and being excited to be alive. not feeling that sense of "ok, i'm here, let's see what i need to do". by immediately getting on the computer i already pull myself into a sort of time vortex where my reality is virtual.

Luis: yea! crazy

three of the finest gentlemen in these here parts

(not really an orange...)

(luis and his antics...)

("i'm not eating pita bread...")

leaving

i rose from my bed this morning. i was about to reach over and grab my laptop, but stopped myself. i've had a habit lately of this being the very first thing i do every single day - my eyes are open, and so that must mean that i must get on my computer.

but today...i didn't. i looked down at my arm, and in the rising light of a 5:30 morning it didn't feel like mine and i forced it back down as i fell back on to my sheets.

after shaving my head the night before, my bristled scalp remained the only thing actually tying me metaphysically down.

"our universe may have started not with a big bang but with a big bounce - an implosion that triggered an explosion, all driven by exotic quantum-gravitational effects."

figures

problem solved:

movefixcal = move filing cabinets

ezra figured it out. his reasoning: "i assume that's what it is. i mean, what else could it be? what else do you do at work?"

Artists are magical helpers. Evoking symbols and motifs that connect us to our deeper selves, they can help us along the heroic journey of our own lives...

The artist is meant to put the objects of this world together in such a way that through them you will experience that light, that radiance which is the light of our consciousness and which all things both hide and, when properly looked upon, reveal. The hero journey is one of the universal patterns through which that radiance shows brightly. What I think is that a good life is one hero journey after another. Over and over again, you are called to the realm of adventure, you are called to new horizons. Each time, there is the same problem: do I dare? And then if you do dare, the dangers are there, and the help also, and the fulfillment or the fiasco. There's always the possibility of a fiasco. But there's also the possibility of bliss.

--joseph campbell

baha'i perspectives

new post: the tree of religion

indistinguisable

i wrote a note on my notepad last night before leaving the office.

as far as i can make out, it says "movefixcal".

virginia, is this a word?

perplexed

i'm having the wierdest dreams

last night my bosses were raiding my closet and trying on all my shirts

but none of them would fit, and they were contorting their arms and shoulders to try and fit in them - and would just find themselves in the most comical positions.

they were having a blast

yeah...i don't know...

shortened exposure

One Tent


(on the eve of sukkot)



Two Tents

(further down on the walk to home - why tents?)



Luis being inappropriate

(heading home from a brain-storming session at ezra's)



I call this "dog"

(just a dog)

…and I shall miss you,

not in the wariness of dark

when shadows limn the tired soul,

nor when birds fold their

fragile wings to rest;

not in the dream world

of unreal and fleeting forms,

But I shall miss you

when shafts of red and gold

snuff out the candled sky.

For, like the morning, ever new,

you warmed my spirit

in your friendship-glow.

Oh, yes, I shall miss you

in a secret, selfish way,

yet, I will be less lonely

than if you had not passed my way.

Mary K. Swank, May, 1965

i

I just remember when i first learned what the word "autonomy" meant.

10%

last night

ez: guys....i'm going to miss you guys when you leave. what am i going to do?

we then launched upon the detailed adventure of how we would eventually live near each other.

one to one

i'm tired of pointlessness

tired of doing pointless things

tired of hearing other people say things are pointless

at 6am i'm allowed to espouse these passing thoughts and contemplations. when did we first have to start thinking about time difference? was it with international travel? the telegraph? the internet and its assorted means of "chat"?

at what point did we realize that while i'm awake right now, there are others that are still wrapped in darkness?

it's very conflicting. it too often generates out of body experiences and fleeting images of time travel - or mental and emotional separation.

i leave myself too often. and yet, i'm at the centre of the world --everything should be gravitating towards me. i shouldn't be leaving at all.

yom kippur

today is between you and God.

experience

i've only experienced death a handful of times. i have a friend. an elderly friend. i thought of him passing away today, and of missing out on the opportunity to see and touch and converse with him again.

he's been my mentor, my spiritual friend and guide.

i first remember loosing my grandfather - i remember everyone crying, walking up to the casket and forcing myself to look inside

then my soccer coach. i was away when it happened

then a co-worker. i held his hand when he was on the hospital bed and not responding

and finally an uncle. i...


talking to a friend, who this man is also a spiritual father to:

me: the idea of us two flying out to him...it's such a beautiful thought

friend: it is. He'd be in heaven

me: ah, now you're making me tear up

friend: We should do it then, when you come back

me: i like that idea. i'd love to.

the dangling participle

After rotting in the cellar for weeks, my brother brought up some oranges.

Uhh… keep your decomposing brother away from me!

--copyblogger

no pain no gain

so today my back is hurting still - been hurting for the past couple of days. i think i'll try sleeping on the floor.

but today is an EXCELLENT day :D

a mongol is free to choose his khan

this past weekend was complete with films, fun, friends and a roast. last night ezra, luis, lucas and myself watched the movie mongol and made a beef roast. it was interesting - the movie that is. visually - amazing; though we all felt it was lacking something with regards to the actual content and thematic flow of the film.

the roast, which we had figured to take 1.5 hours, ended up cooking for about 3. we looked up the directions on the internet and went ahead. we had the roast slowly cooking and dripping away into a pan of diced potatoes, bell peppers, onions, garlic, tomato, carrots and one lonely sweet potato - seasoned with salt, pepper, oregano and cayenne pepper. all with a lovely gravy to top it off.

the meat was a little dried out, but still edible and delicious.

it was a long walk home from leon blum down to my house while the roast slopped around in my stomach. remnants of the onion that i cut still on my fingertips, and the garlic, well, everyone ate it. we left ezra drowsy, happy and full and we offered to take the discarded portions of the night's meal preparation down to the dumpster. as we exited the building, we hoped to be greeted by a strong cool wind that had been passing through for the past couple of days. the night was stagnant - though a breeze, or rather a tendril of a breeze, ambled by just above our heads.

we set off at a good pace. the interesting thing about haifa is that it naturally leads one to walk with a posture of humility or self-deprecation. this is...misleading. everyone simply walks with their head down and shoulders stooped, especially at night, just so that they can equip themselves to better dodge the periodic mounds of animal defecation that are strewn across the sidewalks. some areas are better than others.

three men, collectively aging 72, discussed the perils of their age. discordant steps mimicked beatnik snaps, and we expressed in our singular mind and voice the disjointed thoughts that have for so long tripped up our generation -

love is for the darker flower
shoes...shoes...leaving no stain
i look to find that my body ran away
TACITURN!
who am i when i pretend to be me
my father - my mother?
the lonely cat never licked his paw
ashes to ashes...to ashes


snap snap snap snap snap snap snap

********************

saturday morning breakfast with ezra and the nights bus ride earlier that week

yeah...umm

i just printed out a dissertation to read on agricultural water demand...it's 400 pages.


yea...

dmb

for the first time...in about a year...i just started singing a dave mathews song. it has happened for a long time.

during highschool, dmb songs used to always be on the tip of my tongue.

it was a nastalgic moment ok

here's the song :)

also, props to amelia. i'm finally ready to concede that she first introduced them to me with the song "satellite".



there's no need to watch the video; it's actually better if you don't

right as rain

a pick me up

prolixity

it's easy to neglect oneself.

i'll leave that thought there. it's really too heavy to really write about.

actually, the moment i put that down i lost the desire to write anything; but, ironically, the more i try to say that i don't want to write something, the more i actually do write.

late nights, early mornings. often thoughts run together in long streams of incomplete lists, and your heart and mind give a collective sigh and ask for a moments' rest. though, the earlier i'm up, the more energy i have. i can really tell when i'm awake. thinking becomes...easier.

the other day i had to find a co-worker a table for her office. i offered her one and my spacial perception was challenged. i conceded for the time being, brought her a another table. i came back an hour later with a measuring tape. [earlier] [her] seriously, the one you brought is ONLY like 4 inches bigger than my safe by my desk [me] no, this one is at least 10 inches bigger, at least. [later] taking out tape measure as i step into her office in silence; i measure the distance, it's 10 inches and then i hold up the tape measure for her to see. she breaks out into peels of laughter and i step out triumphant. * end scene

things are always more dramatic when done in silence.

danesh, pops, navid...yes, i still know how to use a tape measure. [imagine me sticking out my tongue]


***********************

i've been really entertaining my creative side lately. but i still feel like i'm only utilizing a tiny portion of it. its very frustrating.

4 + 20

crosby, stills, and nash

for love of water

FLOW

the best birthday present ever

was to hold my coworker Lee's baby.

divine

this is perfect with a glass of mint tea...

too tired to say "i'm tired"

got to work at 7am this morning....

didn't get done with work till 7pm.

where's dinner? whose got my dinner?

the possibility of a nighttime meal in the hadar is in the air - let's see if it wafts my way.

oh, and shana tova :)

my saturday morning

yup, i went for another 3-4 hour walk yesterday - took a nice long rest at the beach

the moth

new found amazing podcast: the moth

thanks ez

arrested viewing

i finally found a site to view "arrested development" online...i'm happy chappy :D

stick

so, if you use...well, if you use a computer or more specifically some sort of chat application you must be familiar with this creation: :P

this is the "smiley" that can have a few different meanins - "oops, i messed up :P", "oh, how cute us that! :P", "silly :P", etc. the list could go on for ever.

the POINT of this post, is that unconsciouslly and unwittingly and just, like 5 minutes ago, reacted to something, like physically acted, with this smiley icon.

i read something, and i felt my mouth form a straight line and my tongue darted out on the side. i felt myself doing this, but couldn't stop. it was like i was watching it all like a confused and embarassed spectator.

looking back now at my chat history with a variety of people up to today, i realize that i have been using this icon MUCH too often. this was a danger sign that it needs to stop or at least decresae sharply - it has invaded my mind.

hmm, just a thought, but as more and more people around the world are using chat based mediums in which to communicate two things happen i think. 1) grammer and the usage of language fails (and i write this knowing full well that i'm violating an enourmous amount of grammer rules with this post); and 2) that as these icons become more and more the norm through which people express emotion in this virtual world, our range of expression is going to become sharply limited - unless of course the continue to develop new and more advanced icons...i guess this is actually where we are headed.

but just imagine if, because we have such a limited means of expression through msn and gchat and aol, we all started to express ourselves in daily interactions with just this miniscule amount of emotionla depth - it would be quite comical, but ultimately horrifying.

i mean, look what it did to one of the world's greatest thinkers!

luis is back!

luis is back from vacation!!!

here's to you luis

this past weekend: assorted

sina and ez - dead sea

haifa

dead sea - johnny h swimming ashore

sunrising - sina khan looking longingly out to jordan - epic

sina trying to figure out where in masada we actually are

arad - towards the dead sea

we're off on the road to morocco...

nuns on stella maris

masada in miniature

johnny h trying it out - dead sea

about to enter the gondola - haifa

church door - haifa

overlooking the bay - haifa

salt encrusted board - dead sea

Baha'i Perspectives

new post up for Baha'i Perspectives: Where are the Poets, Part III

four steps healthy

all images videos captured with handy dandy camera phone

on the road to the dead sea

shots captured with camera-phone

raw

over the weekend i was body surfing in tel aviv with ezra and his friend johnny hall from nz. as the waves got progressively stronger it got harder and harder to stay afloat and not be swept and churned around in the undercurrent. at one point i got pulled under, flipped and my back scraped against the sand.

it was unpleasant.

i now i have strawberry on my lower back that is quite uncomfortable.

this morning i shaved. normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but i haven't shaved in about a month or more. i've just been trimming it up to this point. lucia you'll be happy to know that i now again look like i'm 12 - for the fans of the beard...it'll grow back. it took a while though to shave, the hairs just didn't want to release their hold on my face. my skin feels a bit sensitive, like it hasn't seen the sun or felt air for quite a long time.

here are also some photos that i took during lucia's last days here:

birthday twins

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO NAVID AND AMELIA!!!

LOVE YOU GUYS, WILL BE SEEING YOU SOON!!

in tents, intense

this past weekend sina, ez and johnny (ez's friend from NZ who is visiting) packed up our things and headed to the dead sea to camp by the shore.

it was intense.

i took a fair amount of pictures and i'll be posting them soon.

photos

new photos up on flickr

its a suspenders day

and i love norah jones.