On Wandering

What tears I have shed

in loss of dream upon dream

so many wandering desires have been mine

I am dizzy

in search of them

of love in every corner

of power and of sparkling things

whilst I remain a pillar

talented, brave, intelligent, sweet

always kind and wise beyond defeat

worldly in exceptional taste

while maintaining Christian simplicity,

searching for prudence

To be a Christian, it goes against every leaning

For who willingly dies?

my searching won't seem to find Christ

Every feeling revolts

No I would rather soon live my pagan dreams

than truly live as he calls

or die trying to be a "Saint"

and I wander the earth and its ideas

embracing what beauties come my way

I am so easily charmed

even when left undone

I am exhausted 

Oh Giver of life

do I dare come, eat, drink free of charge

--only this

 to die first?

Passing

         Listen.

 

I am fading away.

      Time doesn't heal all wounds

and mine haven't gone away.

I'm still here

       they're still here

waiting for another day

Manufactured Landscapes

Jennifer Baichwal documents Edward Burtynsky's photography of nature transformed by industry.  I'm speechless, shocked, changed. Do watch. 

Freegans

So I just learned some things about "Freegans" after accidenting the Oprah show. You never know when you might learn something.  

Freegans are people who fill their fridges and their bellies with thrown out food. Regularly going through public dumpsters near grocery stores and other food producing sort of businesses, they take home their livelihood for free. Sometimes they go on raids, like sanctioned garbage hunts. Picture a cluster of mostly 20 somethings, professionals, college students, social workers, etc. All can more or less afford food but are making a statement at the garbage can. Like recycling, but backwards.  Contributing to the world by consuming less.

So a week later I'm at the grocery store and I buy some sugar, a tomato, a loaf of bread, and some chocolate sprinkles for some cookies I'm about to bake.  And. Suddenly as I'm driving away I am wondering out of the corner of my eye where the dumpster is. (!) Later, as I am making cookies and pizza (at the same time) I accidently burn my pizza.  Just as I am opening the lid of my trash can a little Freegan popped onto my shoulder and said, "That's good food!" I looked at the crusty pizza and a spoiled version of myself appeared on my other shoulder saying, "gross, who would eat that?" The Freegan, who actually might have been my father, said, "Freegans, and lots of little starving children."

So I stared at my crusty pizza, and decided to give it a chance. It was brown and crunchy and a little soft in the middle, and actually quite satisfying. As I took my last bite I thought, "To Freegans."  

Should I?