The Death of Ectoplasm
In my dream this epoch battle rages
between angels and demons. My mom,
is Mother Goose. She barks and barks
at my dad, who is Jack Sprat.
They are fighting over me and my siblings,
whether we should be fed to the Ectoplasm,
or simply turned over to Beezlebub.
The demons race for the high ground,
my parents take up the rear. Angels
reach the peak first and blow the shofar,
preparing for a bloodbath. The demons,
already frightened by the trumpets, see
that the angels are not human-like,
and begin falling like flies.
Michael and Gabriel
execute all the Ectoplasm.
I see Michael staring into my face, longing
to understand the spirit in me. I snap to,
and I'm relieved that my dream
is a vision. The sky is not actually falling,
and I will not
be fed to the Big Bad Wolf.
© by DB Lindsey
All Rights Reserved
Anishinaabe My name is "Anishinaabe," created from nothing interesting, until Gitche Manitou cut out my heart, gave me a new one, and now I walk a straight path.
I was spontaneously selected by Gitche's mercy and grace for life abundant, but I rebel against it. I don't know why. I have a murderous heart, a tongue of fire, and a desire to steal Gitche's glory, but I want to make him smile, and I don't know why. He breathed new life into my loathsome soul, purges my offenses, and loves me completely, but why? He adopted me into his family, and I call him "Abba," daddy, and I'm his child, and he will never leave me. This I know that I know that I know, and I consent to it.
Photo courtesy of Molly Lindsey
Who Is Pavlov’s Dog?
For starters, do you know about Pavlov? Ivan Petrovich Pavlov (1849 – 1936) was a Russian born physiologist known for his work in classical conditioning. His work has greatly influenced our understanding of human behavior and learning processes, and he continues to influence the formation of modern behavior therapy.
His contributions have influenced a broad spectrum of fields, from psychology and physiology, to medicine and philosophy, but in popular culture he is well known for his “conditioned reflex” experiments with dogs. Various stimuli would be presented as an antecedent to feeding time, and the dogs would then become conditioned to salivate upon the stimuli presented before food was actually presented.
Hence, the image (above) of my Australian Shepherd, Molly, licking her chops. All we have to do is mention “treat, snack, breakfast, lunch, or supper,” and she begins licking her lips. The other day it made me wonder who Pavlov’s dog was, but then I discovered, he had many dogs! Duh!
Oh well . . . Pavlov and Molly conspired to make me think about who Pavlov’s dog was, which inspired a poem. I hope you enjoy “Pavlov’s Dog.”
“Going through life without seeing a total eclipse of the sun would be like going through life without ever falling in love.”—Rick Fienberg
I thought about this guy’s quote (off and on) all morning. I heard the story on NPR. Fineberg is a press officer who works for the American Astronomical Society. His quote is also published in a story titled Be Smart: A Partial Eclipse Can Fry Your Naked Eyes.
Really? I guess it depends on what type of love into which you’re falling. I can confess to a fascination of natural cosmic anomalies—even a passing obsession. But I get it: Fienberg is comparing his love for nature with agape love. Or at least I’d like to think so. One thing for certain: I admire Fienberg’s passion. And don’t get me wrong: I relished the notion of getting to see today’s solar eclipse. I missed it but I’m not broken-hearted or disappointed in the least.
I know I’ll never fall in love with an object of nature, but what if I did? What if I fell in love with supernovae and black holes and eclipses of every kind? This is the notion (and passion) that drives this poem: Falling In Love. Continue reading
My mother is on a personal journey, out of this realm. Eternity is merely days away. “Mitzie” is medicated. She is comfortable, surrounded by beloved family members. Last night she was calling out my sister-in-law’s name: “Diane. . . Diane.” I spoke to Diane today and she has spent the entire day with my mom. In the near future, I will be boarding a jet which will take me to Salt Lake City, and I will travel to my mom’s house in North Ogden, Utah, where I will say good-bye to her for the last time.
As for man, his days are like grass;
he flourishes like a flower of the field;
for the wind passes over it, and it is gone,
and its place knows it no more.
But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him,
and his righteousness to children’s children,
to those who keep his covenant
and remember to do his commandments.
The Lord has established his throne in the heavens,
and his kingdom rules over all (Psalm 103: 15 – 19).
I have drafted a few lines and titled it “Things My Mother Taught Me.” Currently she is teaching me the value of entering immortality with grace.