Posts Tagged ‘currently stuck in my head’

why is everybody always chasing we?

7 October 2010

Dear Matisyahu,
I love you. I’m sorry I listened to those naysayers commenting on “Youth” It’s fantastic.
❤ dana.

Jerusalem, if I forget you, let my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do.

So, on a completely different note: I started this book by Stephen Prothero, Religious Literacy and it has me thinking about my own religious literacy. I have a good general knowledge of world religions, and I remember stuff from when I was a kid about Bible stories. But some people, man! They really know their Bible! I have a good overview of it, but I can’t quote anything at length. (I can make up faux psalms though).

Anyway, I know when Isaac said he read most of the Bible, I think he finished it up with “and I’ll never do that again” but, I think once again, I am resolved to read … some more of it. at least. We’ll see.

lacrimosa

21 July 2009

we keep on burying our dead
we keep on planting their bones in the ground
but they won’t grow
the sun doesn’t help
and all we’ve got
is a giant crop
of names & dates
~ Regina Spektor Lacrimosa

We’ve had several deaths recently. One that was unexpected and quick. I wasn’t there that night. Came in the next day and was looking at the update sheet at the nurses station. “Passed”

And then, there are those others. Expected deaths. Deaths where the entire staff is on edge, checking, re-checking. Shift change conversation,

“Is she still here?”
“Yeah.”
“why . . .?”

Dear Lord, Why?

And then after that,
how, Lord, how are we supposed
to deal with this?
All this death
It’s unnatural

The pain
we see in the final moments

The struggling for air.
Good Lord,
the struggling for air!

the eyes.
half-open,
wanting to be cosed
glazed eyes.

the mouth.
god!
god see that mouth
do you know
the death mouth.

that toothless
lipless
hole.
deep dark hole.

oxygen in the nose
but they don’t use it.
gulps of air.
somehow brought in
through that gaping
death mouth.

into the lungs
that keep going
long after they should have stopped

People say that the dying hang on because of ‘unfinished business. I don’t buy that shit.  It’s just torture. And these are not “extraordinary measures” people. These are DNR people. Holding on, even though they are physically unable to swallow anything.

Why.
and what we,
left here,
do?

what do we do now?
what do we do in the mean time?
and i don’t mean
for that person.
obviously
make her as
comfortable as possible

but how
how do we deal?
how are we supposed to
process death?
over lunch.
over a cigarette.
if that.

and then
back to work:
wiping butts
& popping pills.
shoving food
down the living.

a yemen flashback

20 May 2009

When I was in Yemen, I took this trip out to Shibam/Kawkaban/Thulla with Ed, an amusing British student. We were hiking up from Shibam to Kawkaban when Ed, a secular English Jew started singing. It wasn’t necessarily that he started singing that surprised me, it was what he started singing.

Shine Jesus Shine
Fill this land with the Father’s Glory…

It was a bit much for my Christian yet anti-protestant-worship-music heart.

“You’re British, how do you know that song?” then a pause. “You’re JEWISH, how the HELL do you know that song?”

edit: his answer was much less interesting that I would have hoped. A paraphrase, if you will: Well, while English schools claim to be secular, really they are much less so that you would think. That’s English education for you.

CoE, I thought you were better than that.

working on taking my days back

8 May 2009

somedays…
aren’t yours at all
they come and go
like someone else’s days
they come and leave you behind
someone else’s face

and it’s harsher than yours
colder than yours…
~Regina Spektor Somedays

sooooo emo.

3 May 2009

art is why i get up in the morning
but my definition ends there
you know, it doesn’t seem fair
that i’m living for something
i can’t even define
there you are right there in the meantime
i don’t want to play for you anymore
show me what you can do
tell me what are you here for?
i want my old friends
i want my old face
i want my old mind
fuck this time and place
~ani difranco out of habit

you know, it doesn’t seem fair that i’m living for something i can’t even define. but there you are, in the meantime…

i want my old friends. i want my old face. i want my old mind. fuck this time and place.

i’d like to say that i have more in me than old song lyrics, but i can’t promise anything right now

placebo

3 May 2009

a friend in need’s
a friend indeed
a friend with weed
is better.