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       ZAP THE PRAM?

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A Thought for Today

Memories live on. They are the yardstick we measure our current lives by.

 

Yep, I'm still in hard drive down limbo. Had a note from tara who says her husband (Tech Guru Bill) suggests I "Zap the Pram." Right, Bill, but might that not kill the baby?

Not being the computer geek I'd like to be, what in the hell is the Pram? 

Here are some poems from "The Carols of Christmas."

THREE POEMS from "The Carols of Christmas"

The Singer and The Song

Jesus, can you hear me singing?
Is my voice tuned loud enough?
Am I mixing with the choir
or soloing an edge out front?

Jesus, at the echo's ending
is my song still strong and true
or has it blended with the mudlark
and been lost in silver forests ?

Jesus, is an answer coming
to the prayers I prayed before
or should I repeat them now
and settle down to wait again ?

Jesus, pardon me for asking
but will you grant me one more hour
to your own or to my liking
so that I might work with you?

The Virgin

Too much was asked of one small virgin
that she should be an architect
and labor as a workman does
yet do so in an angel's guise.

Those of us who think ourselves experienced
are given scriptures as The Daily News
and told beyond all doubt that they are fact.
Present fiction has a truer ring
than some old writings of another time.

Men have sailed beyond the ocean's edge
and even walked out on the moon;
why not a virgin birth?
Well, there was no television then
and Norman Mailer has no notes
he scribbled at the scene.

Still, if man today can build with vision
and tear down with lack of conscience
yesterday's young virgin's giving birth
is hardly miracle enough to turn our heads.
The marvel is that some of us are still around
to celebrate this august birthday once again.

For Jean-Marc

May your hand be full for always
if only with another hand.
May your heart be empty only
long enough to give you cause
to fill it up again with love.

May your soul be lost to you
only to be found by God.

                       
-from "The Carols of Christmas," 1971

THE LAST WORD

In Pennsylvania, two Amish men were arrested for distributing cocaine. "Police got suspicious when they noticed a horse pulling a Camaro."...Conan O'Brien 

                                      (Submitted by Eric Yeager)

notable birthdays Gregg Allman o Morgan Ames o Kim Basinger o Lee J. Cobb o David Carradine o Sammy Davis, Jr. o James Galway o Teri Hatcher o Joel Chandler Harris o Horace o Sam Kinison o Mary Queen of Scots o James MacArthur o Jim Morrison o Sinead O'Connor o Jean Ritchie o Diego Rivera o John Rubinstein o Maximillan Schell o Jean Sibelius o Adele Simpson o James Thurber o Eli Whitney o Flip Wilson
Rod's random thoughts Never fear life or death, only mere existence.

Nobody steals something original and winds up producing more than a carbon copy.

The best thing about cats is everything.

NINETEEN FIFTY-EIGHT:
THE COUNTERPOINT OF CAROLS

Now softly come the minstrels
heads bowed into hymnals
caroling for cookies and safe smiles.
We owe them more than candy
for the redness of their ears alone.

Faint footsteps down the hill and gone,
there music dying through the trees
as back to Bach we go
        on phonographs and radios.

The needlepoint of patchwork quilts,
the counterpoint of carols.

Novembers come and gone too soon
there are so many quarrels
that we haven't finished,
and they might lessen
        in the January rain.

Quarrel in December ?
        Never.
November comes up every year.
This Christmas comes but once.

I am not master of the holly,
nor are you mistress to the fire.
Still, together we're the Christmas people
and dancing down the year-end has its merits.

We can fire our memories as the Yule logs burn
               and give away our secrets
        each in turn.

Never mind what Whitman said,
proud music of the storm never kept the nations quiet;
lovers each to each do that -
       they know that wars don't work forever.

Merry then and Alleluia too,
I love you just as much as I love Christ.
              No.
      More.
He opened up my life for me.
You unlocked the final door.

                   
-from "Twelve Years of Christmas", 1969
1958, 1968, 1969, 1970, 1971, 2000 by Stanyan Music Group & Rod McKuen. All Rights Reserved
Birthday research by Wade Alexander o Poetry from the collection of Jay Hagan o Coordinated by Melinda Smith
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