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	<title>barbaralisette</title>
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	<description>a poet&#039;s prose</description>
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		<title>I want to do to you what spring does to the cherry trees</title>
		<link>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/06/02/679/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 03 Jun 2011 00:54:43 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>barbaraanne</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Musings]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/?p=679</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;I want to do to you what spring does to the cherry trees.&#8221; Pablo Neruda That line takes my breath away. We agreed last night that it may be the sexiest line of poetry ever written. It is a line of hope, of innocence and yet understanding, of sexuality and desire, of restraint. Perhaps this [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=barbaraanne.wordpress.com&amp;blog=1417471&amp;post=679&amp;subd=barbaraanne&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>&#8220;I want</strong></p>
<p><strong>to do to you what spring does to the cherry trees.&#8221; Pablo Neruda</strong></p>
<p>That line takes my breath away. We agreed last night that it may be the sexiest line of poetry ever written. It is a line of hope, of innocence and yet understanding, of sexuality and desire, of restraint. Perhaps this line is so vivid because growing up in Washington, D.C. the cherry blossoms are so vivid in the way such a tiny flower, such a fragile flower transforms the skyline calling the spring to bring forth the warm breezes. Perhaps I see my life in these lines, I want to approach life the way spring approaches the cherry trees. I want to bloom, to be beautiful, to live in the moment, and for the moment.</p>
<p>Enough. This is a post about moments:</p>
<p><a href="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/miami-beach-20110529-00052.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-680" title="Mia Casa" src="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/miami-beach-20110529-00052.jpg?w=480&#038;h=640" alt="" width="480" height="640" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align:center;">Mia Casa</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/miami-beach-20110529-00051.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-681" title="Pop Art" src="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/miami-beach-20110529-00051.jpg?w=480&#038;h=640" alt="" width="480" height="640" /></a>Results of being and artist with Nae</p>
<p><a href="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/miami-20110528-00039.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-682" title="Angelina's" src="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/miami-20110528-00039.jpg?w=480&#038;h=640" alt="" width="480" height="640" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align:center;">Angelina&#8217;s: My favorite place for lunch.</p>
<p><a href="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/miami-20110528-00040.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-683" title="Menu" src="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/miami-20110528-00040.jpg?w=480&#038;h=640" alt="" width="480" height="640" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align:center;">Isn&#8217;t this menu tempting?!?! &lt;3</p>
<p style="text-align:center;">These are just some glimpses of this life that I lead here in Miami.</p>
<p style="text-align:center;">kisses</p>
<p style="text-align:center;">bl</p>
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			<media:title type="html">Mia Casa</media:title>
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			<media:title type="html">Pop Art</media:title>
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			<media:title type="html">Angelina's</media:title>
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		<title>Black Bikinis and Rilke</title>
		<link>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/05/22/black-bikinis-and-rilke/</link>
		<comments>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/05/22/black-bikinis-and-rilke/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 23 May 2011 02:29:20 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>barbaraanne</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Musings]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/?p=664</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Last night, walking up the tile steps to my apartment, breathing in the deep warm tropical air, life began to sparkle again in the moonlight. Miami is freedom to me, in less than a month I will have lived here for an entire year on my own. My Aunt Teresa passed away suddenly and I [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=barbaraanne.wordpress.com&amp;blog=1417471&amp;post=664&amp;subd=barbaraanne&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/img-20110522-00007.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-665" title="The Beach" src="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/img-20110522-00007.jpg?w=480&#038;h=360" alt="" width="480" height="360" /></a></p>
<p><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">Last night, walking up the tile steps to my apartment, breathing in the deep warm tropical air, life began to sparkle again in the moonlight. Miami is freedom to me, in less than a month I will have lived here for an entire year on my own. My Aunt Teresa passed away suddenly and I was in Virginia for the funeral, and all I could think was she wasn&#8217;t allowed to leave me all alone. Yet I have never been in a better place, and I know God knew that, though if you are reading this my sweet Jesus I am still not happy she is gone!!!  The realization that I am now an adult seems as foreign as it is immediate. The most important thing she taught me was to live in the moment<em>.</em> She always said I never knew if I would have tomorrow, so I had to live as if there were only today<em>.</em> I wonder if she knew she would die young.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">After mass I went to Icebox with Nae for lunch, for they have the most fabulous green tea with fresh mint and sugared lemon syrup. My Miami life feels so different from the one I led in the green southern vine encased roads of Virginia. Of course after lunch Nae convinced me to walk down Lincoln with her, which house, guess what-An Anthro. We had to stop-now I should know by now to never go shopping with her unless you have money to spend because she cons you into purchasing something. Though it was on clearance, and it is practical, and so comfortable&#8230; this is terrible.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">This afternoon I decided to take Rilke and go to the beach, Nae was going to meet me. Now before Miami I only owned one swim suit, however now I have several. It&#8217;s a hazard of living a block from the beach I suppose ;) But it seemed like a black bikini kind of day after all Rilke has lines about fathomless night skies and such. One must be dramatic. The water was a liquid jade today, and as the East Coast girl that I am I fully appreciated the few large waves that made an appearance this afternoon.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">But now it is 10:30, and I have a poem due tomorrow, and must get up early to head into the office so I shall say goodnight.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">kisses</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">barbara</span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/img-20110522-000082.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-669" title="IMG-20110522-00008" src="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/img-20110522-000082.jpg?w=480&#038;h=640" alt="" width="480" height="640" /></a><span style="color:#ccffff;"><strong><a href="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/img-20110522-000081.jpg"><span style="color:#ccffff;"><br />
</span></a><span style="color:#c0c0c0;"><em>I would like to step out of my heart and go walking beneath the enormous sky. Rilke</em></span></strong></span></p>
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		<title>SIM Day Two: St. Patrick&#8217;s</title>
		<link>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/05/09/day-two-sundays-and-st-patricks/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 09 May 2011 05:30:43 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>barbaraanne</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Catholicism]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Miami Beach]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[One of the beautiful things about Miami Beach in the summer, is that it empties of all extraneous vehicles, and I can make it mass in under 10 minutes. I was contemplating this when I arrived 1o minutes early to St. Patrick&#8217;s. Of course rather than thinking of all the ways I could use the [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=barbaraanne.wordpress.com&amp;blog=1417471&amp;post=657&amp;subd=barbaraanne&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/st-patricks.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-658" title="St. Patrick's" src="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/st-patricks.jpg?w=384&#038;h=512" alt="" width="384" height="512" /></a></p>
<p>One of the beautiful things about Miami Beach in the summer, is that it empties of all extraneous vehicles, and I can make it mass in under 10 minutes. I was contemplating this when I arrived 1o minutes early to St. Patrick&#8217;s. <span style="color:#ec1239;">Of course rather than thinking of all the ways I could use the extra 1o minutes to pray I thought of how much longer I can stay in bed on Sunday mornings.</span> A peachy-keen catholic I know ;) However I was rattled this morning because while walking/searching for my car ( <em>I have tendency to forget what street I parked it on, hence the always exciting game of hide-and-seek-and-don&#8217;t-panic-its-not-stolen</em>) this gentleman rode up on his bicycle as I was unlocking my car door and asked my favorite question &#8220;Are you single?&#8221;  I suppose you can&#8217;t fault Miami for now cutting straight to the point. <span style="color:#ec1239;">I feel awful for turning people down, perhaps I should have asked to mass, but I just stood there smiling and shaking my head, telling him I wasn&#8217;t interested in going out for drinks. I mean after all I do complain about being lonely an awful lot, but being asked out on a Sunday morning on my way to mass?? What can I say, God has a sense of humor ;) </span> After feeling guilty for a few minutes for turning the guy down I decided I could spend my extra 10 minutes praying he meets some wonderful girl who isn&#8217;t me. You see St. Patrick&#8217;s always cheers me up!!!</p>
<p>There is something about the singing, the dresses, and the unpredictability of Father&#8217;s homilies that just makes my heart swell with joy :) Now I confess I miss going to mass with, well lets see what shall we call him, well we shall deal with that later. <span style="color:#ec1239;">But to make up for not being able to go to mass together anymore I try to sneak a quick, &#8220;peace be with you&#8221; text under the noses of the old ladies during the sign of peace.</span> One of these days I am going to get caught, but I am confident that my dear sweet jesus understands ;) I think he would have been a fabulous text-er. Anyways perhaps today was not the most thrilling, but then again, <span style="color:#ec1239;">Sundays are meant to be lazy days. <strong>Days to bask in the fact that even with all of our flaws we are loved extravagantly by the one and only person who will know us the most intimately.</strong></span> Today was our walk to Emmaus, Jesus&#8217; and I. He broke the bread, letting me recognize his hand in my life, again, renewing his love for me with every breath I take. It was perfectly spent Sunday.</p>
<p>&lt;3 kisses from miami</p>
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		<title>A Summer in Miami: Day One</title>
		<link>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/05/07/a-summer-in-miami-day-one/</link>
		<comments>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/05/07/a-summer-in-miami-day-one/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 08 May 2011 00:13:30 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>barbaraanne</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Miami Beach]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/?p=654</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[To whom read this, and if you still do then I am impressed, today marks the beginning of a new journey. Having spent the last week mourning the fact that I am too poor to travel this summer, I realized that I was failing in an area which I had always taken great pride: The [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=barbaraanne.wordpress.com&amp;blog=1417471&amp;post=654&amp;subd=barbaraanne&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/0-miami_master.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-655" title="Miami Beach" src="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/0-miami_master.jpg?w=438&#038;h=341" alt="" width="438" height="341" /></a></p>
<p><em>To whom read this, and if you still do then I am impressed, today marks the beginning of a new journey. Having spent the last week mourning the fact that I am too poor to travel this summer, I realized that I was failing in an area which I had always taken great pride: The ability to find beauty and joy in life. And thus today, as I writing this dilemma in my journal a brilliant idea came to me. Beginning with post I am going to write at least 1oo words a day on life in Miami, thus documenting the summer and perhaps salvaging my sanity as I embark on a long and hot voyage through the palm trees, wilting orchids and humidity. After all how many summers will I have to live in such a tropical and exotic location?</em></p>
<p><strong>Day One:</strong></p>
<p>If you have not had the pleasure of having an Italian neighbor, I pity you. I however have the pleasure. I introduce you to my single, rather attractive, and passionate neighbor Antonio. Even as I type this is the deepening dusk, a torrent, like a violent waterfall of syllables and Mama&#8217;s are erupting behind the white plaster wall that separates our flats. With Antonio and his daily, tantrums sounds so childish, so I suppose we can say passionate conversations though he just stomped past my window and down the stairs, I can almost believe I am back in Roma. After all with palm trees and him, you would never know I left Italy several months ago.</p>
<p>However back to recounting the day, which involved several more Italians. I decided that in an embrasive mood, I would welcome the summer by going to the library in South Beach. Thus wearing an emerald green dress, the color of hope Antonio once told me, I slid on my sunglasses and braved the day. Having reconciled myself to the fact that I would have to pay for parking at the library, I was off. However upon arriving discovered there was absolutely not a single free spot, and after 10 minutes to see if a human being would crawl out from under a rock and meander to their convertible, thus freeing a spot I gave up. I was too poor I decided to waste gas idling.</p>
<p>Since flexibility was key, and I was feeling to eager to begin the summer with something other than cleaning my flat, I changed courses and drove the a parking garage which is always plentiful in parking spaces and went to Starbucks. Now, my friends, if you are advocates of coffee, and the functionality of graduate students I feel is increased by whatever potion they sell me in my mermaid tattooed cup, I am distraught over the sudden increase in prices. However having just paid for two hours of parking, I decided why not be reckless and order a grande iced coffee. Today was my day, I could feel it :)</p>
<p>Slighted by the library, I decided to use this time to read the introduction of Selected Writings by Apollinaire. However the glamor of being intellectual waned with the realization of a 54 page introduction. By my conspirators in crime, I did manage to fathom my way through a fourth. However such reading of French surrealism and illegitimate beginnings was overwhelmed when a couple sat next to me. I have long been convinced that the only reason to learn languages is for the purpose of eavesdropping. I have never been disappointed. The couple next to me were Italians, yes see I am getting to my point, and they were discussing there trip back to Italy, as they always summered in Europe. As I beginning to feel a green sea creature of envy well within my flushed cheeks, a friend, a socialite whom they recognize come over to kiss their cheeks. They seemed surprised that he is still in town and he too talks of beginning preparations for the trip back to Italy. He asks them of their plans, and they talk of Roma until he invites them to sail with him on his yacht down to Capri, to relax, and take life easy. He spoke in English, and thus with the ability to catch more details, I tried to focus in vain upon Apollinaire&#8217;s enthusiasm for the French Art scene in the early 1900&#8242;s. I wanted to shout, &#8220;Take me, take me!!!&#8221;</p>
<p>Now I shall not complain that I am in a terrible condition, after all I have enough money to pay my air conditioning bills, rent and my Starbucks addictions but to summer on a yacht off the coast of Italy?? It sounded so romantic is such a Great Gatsby way&#8230; though I am sure two days in the life and I would be bored. Yet to walk under the palms, with the breeze that exists on the most special days, I thought here I am, in Miami, living only two blocks from the beach, this will be my summer, a summer to find and perhaps truly live each and every moment. Even the unbearably hot ones. So I invite you through the summer to wander with me, down the cement sidewalks naming the geckos&#8230;. because miei amici, this is only the beginning.</p>
<p>barbara lisette</p>
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		<title>Lord I believe You</title>
		<link>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/04/23/lord-i-believe-you/</link>
		<comments>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/04/23/lord-i-believe-you/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 23 Apr 2011 22:42:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>barbaraanne</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Musings]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I&#8217;ll always believe in you, though I can see you with my eyes, deep in my heart your presence I find. Lord I believe in you.&#8221; This Lent has had its own struggles, and though I failed in giving anything up this Lent, I learned more about giving up than I remember in previous years. [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=barbaraanne.wordpress.com&amp;blog=1417471&amp;post=647&amp;subd=barbaraanne&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em>I&#8217;ll always believe in you, though I can see you with my eyes, deep in my heart your presence I find. Lord I believe in you.&#8221;</em></p>
<p>This Lent has had its own struggles, and though I failed in giving anything up this Lent, I learned more about giving up than I remember in previous years. I learned about giving up control, giving up that life wasn&#8217;t going to go the way I wanted it, that things were not going to happen just because I wanted them too. I learned to once again give up my heart, dreams, and wishes and place them into the only hands that I trust to hold it all. Even when these hands are bloody and pierced they are hands that will never let me fall.</p>
<p>I have spent the last month waiting each day for a phone call from my best friend and sister who is in the hospital. I listen to her, so broken and in so much pain, and all I can do from 2,000 miles away is take her and my love for her and put it at the foot of the cross. No matter how dark it seems I know, I believe in the one who has conquered darkness forever. Last Sunday she called me to tell me she had received the Eucharist, and she told the eucharistic minister she knew it would make me happy. And I was reminded that it is in our brokenness that we find Love. The Eucharist, Christ&#8217;s broken body, his crucified body came and rested on the tongue of her broken body. In that embrace of her soul and its God, I know that he came and held her close, I know that there was healing in the act. As Easter, approaches, I picture her in the hospital and I wish we were little again. But seeing her like this has reminded me that our lives are not to be taken for granted, and we will never know how long we have. I grieve for her suffering but in her suffering I am reminded of the Lord, asking for all of us. On the days when the darkness and the fear overwhelm me, and I cry out against him, asking &#8220;How can this be? How come you are letting her suffer so? Why Lord? Why?&#8221; I hear his voice reminding me of how much he loves her. Of how he is hurting too. And I cling to Him because I know that even when I can&#8217;t see him, he is there waiting to pick each of us up. He is waiting in Love, because he is Love, and he is calling to us as Love even in our brokenness. He is only one who can make us whole, so this Easter I pray that he takes me in my brokenness and heals my soul. And I know tomorrow when she receives the Eucharist he is taking her too in his arms, and rocking her back and forth in Love.</p>
<p><em>&#8220;Draw me near Lord, never let me go, closer to your heart, draw me nearer Lord.&#8221;</em></p>
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		<title>tick tock lent</title>
		<link>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/03/30/tick-tock-lent/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 31 Mar 2011 03:05:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>barbaraanne</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Musings]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.&#8221; Matt 11:28 I included the clip above, in part because I do love Alice in Wonderland, but also because I feel as if I am rabbit many days, and while perhaps I am not late to class, there is [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=barbaraanne.wordpress.com&amp;blog=1417471&amp;post=642&amp;subd=barbaraanne&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#3366ff;">&#8220;Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.&#8221; Matt 11:28</span></p>
<span style="text-align:center; display: block;"><a href="http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/03/30/tick-tock-lent/"><img src="http://img.youtube.com/vi/wDO5ea8MwgY/2.jpg" alt="" /></a></span>
<p>I included the clip above, in part because I do love Alice in Wonderland, but also because I feel as if I am rabbit many days, and while perhaps I am not late to class, there is that sense of urgency that I am falling behind constantly and my to do list only seems to be getting longer. It is as if the clock has become my worst enemy! And yet as catholics we are in the liturgical season of lent, a time for repentance and reflection. As classes are over in a month, final papers and portfolios due in several weeks, it feels like there is not time to reflect on my life. Though I feel if it were not grad school keeping me busy, it would be something else. And yet how does one go about finding the minutes in the day to stop and reflect on God. I feel like I am constantly praying to finish a paper, or for a friend, or that traffic hurries up so I don&#8217;t arrive at the office too late&#8230;thought these prayers only seem to heighten the sense of urgency, and make me want to pick up my heels! Like the pun? ;)</p>
<p>Back in undergrad a good friend used to open his prayer meeting with Psalm 91. There is a version of this on itunes sung by Katie Rose, and even in that 10 minute walk from the parking garage to work, I find slipping in my headphones I am more relaxed as I walk through that glass door. For the Lord will keep angels over us, and he is there for us even when we run around like the White Rabbit, he knows us each by name, and calls us to drop the clock for a moment, or even run with the clock, but also with his word in our hearts.</p>
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		<title>&#8220;A Man Fell On His Knees&#8221;</title>
		<link>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/03/22/635/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 22 Mar 2011 17:25:11 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>barbaraanne</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Middle East]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[                                                                      A MAN FELL ON HIS KNEES A man fell to his knees       In the midst of a square — Was he too tired       To stand — Had he reached the line       Where the waves of spent lives break — Had he been hit with hammers of grief       By whirlwinds of [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=barbaraanne.wordpress.com&amp;blog=1417471&amp;post=635&amp;subd=barbaraanne&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/10599_a_man_fell_on_hi.jpg"><img class="size-full wp-image-636 alignleft" title="10599_a_man_fell_on_hi" src="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/10599_a_man_fell_on_hi.jpg?w=480" alt="" /></a>                                  </p>
<p>                                   A MAN FELL ON HIS KNEES</p>
<div style="text-align:center;">A man fell to his knees<br />
      In the midst of a square</div>
<div style="text-align:center;">— Was he too tired<br />
      To stand</div>
<div style="text-align:center;">— Had he reached the line<br />
      Where the waves of spent lives break</div>
<div style="text-align:center;">— Had he been hit with hammers of grief<br />
      By whirlwinds of pain</div>
<div style="text-align:center;">— Was it an adversity not to be borne</div>
<div style="text-align:center;">— Was it the angel of death<br />
With his scythe when it was time to go</div>
<div style="text-align:center;">— Was it Satan or God</div>
<div style="text-align:center;">Suddenly, in the midst of a square<br />
      A man fell to his knees like a horse<br />
            the knees cut off with a scythe.</div>
<div style="text-align:left;">We had an assignment for class a few weeks ago to write a nuonced poem. I stuggled terribly with this, and of course it is this week that I finally wrote a good one. I am perpetually a week behind in creativity. However I stumbled across this piece, by the Iraqi poet Sargon Bolus (1944-2007) at work yesterday and I thought it was beautiful and startling and could also be called a nuonced form, which is really just a form with a sense of repition or structural meaning. I hope you enjoy this little find and make sure to look up <a href="http://iraq.poetryinternationalweb.org/piw_cms/cms/cms_module/index.php?obj_id=10599" target="_blank">Poetry International Web</a> at some point!!! It is a way to hear poetry in lauguages and cultures from almost every country. Tis tres chic.</div>
<div style="text-align:left;">Ciao Miei Amici</div>
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		<title>Poeticly Dashing</title>
		<link>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/03/19/poeticly-dashing/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 20 Mar 2011 00:32:43 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>barbaraanne</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Musings]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/03/09/styled-to-a-t-terrance-hayes/<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=barbaraanne.wordpress.com&amp;blog=1417471&amp;post=629&amp;subd=barbaraanne&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/13remix-hayes-tmagsf.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-632" title="13remix-hayes-tmagSF" src="http://barbaraanne.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/13remix-hayes-tmagsf.jpg?w=362&#038;h=491" alt="" width="362" height="491" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/03/09/styled-to-a-t-terrance-hayes/">http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/03/09/styled-to-a-t-terrance-hayes/</a></p>
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		<title>As Time Goes By</title>
		<link>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/03/19/as-time-goes-by/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 19 Mar 2011 22:47:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>barbaraanne</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Musings]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/?p=622</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[There is something about a warm and sunny saturday that seems blissful and full of promise even as I fight off this terrible cold. I have always idealized the south, yet what I envision when asked to describe my dreams for the future are rather specific. I find it so easy to lose focus in [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=barbaraanne.wordpress.com&amp;blog=1417471&amp;post=622&amp;subd=barbaraanne&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>There is something about a warm and sunny saturday that seems blissful and full of promise even as I fight off this terrible cold. I have always idealized the south, yet what I envision when asked to describe my dreams for the future are rather specific. I find it so easy to lose focus in the midst of my MFA, yet I know this is a time to prepare myself for the future. I see a family, children and a husband. I see a home, with laundry spilling out of laundry baskets, and the smell of soap. I see freshly made lemonade, newspapers and crucifixes. I see flowers and sunshine, different sized shoes near the front door and white rumpled sheets. It is in all of these images that I see love. The south always seemed to cherish time spent with the family, and yet while I realize this as an idealized view from the era of Gone with the Wind, I want that sense of family, of cradling the moments that make up life.  There will be a time when my dreams become a reality but for now I am here in Miami in my white studio with my lemonade and cream roses.</p>
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		<title>May your words linger in my head&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/03/06/may-your-words-linger-in-my-head/</link>
		<comments>http://barbaraanne.wordpress.com/2011/03/06/may-your-words-linger-in-my-head/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 07 Mar 2011 03:40:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>barbaraanne</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Musings]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[While I really don&#8217;t have &#8220;time&#8221; to be writing here, I wanted to share something I heard in the homily this morning at St. Patrick&#8217;s. The gospel was about building ones home on rock rather than sand, so when the storms come, your home is not washed away. As he was talking I was thinking about [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=barbaraanne.wordpress.com&amp;blog=1417471&amp;post=620&amp;subd=barbaraanne&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>While I really don&#8217;t have &#8220;time&#8221; to be writing here, I wanted to share something I heard in the homily this morning at St. Patrick&#8217;s. The gospel was about building ones home on rock rather than sand, so when the storms come, your home is not washed away. As he was talking I was thinking about how I feel like my life is rather stormy currently. With the winds of school and work howling over my foundation. Springtime is always a struggle for me as it is representative of a life that no longer exists but one that held me captive for a long time, and as Lent is approaching I was reminded that in order to not be washed away when the floods come, I need to build my foundation, and build it on the rock of the word of my God. How rarely do I turn to scripture lately, how often I turn to a latte from Starbucks to get me through the long days. Not that I am criticizing Starbucks, I do love them dearly, but if that is my foundation then I am in trouble. While I know that everything I do, I do because of the grace of my dearest jesus, it is so easy to pulled in a million directions and I skip my prayer time, skip talking to him until I find days when all I do is complain and whine to him. I hear him this Lent, telling me to come to him, and I know that it is in Christ that I will find the peace I am craving. I cannot do everything, and perhaps the one lesson I have learned from grad school is the need for priorities, as a really good friend from college just reminded me that there are only so may things we can handle, and it is okay to not be able to do everything. So here goes a new resolution to start trimming all the excess activities and just regroup and focus on what I came to Miami to do. May the peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you, now and forever.</p>
<p>bl</p>
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