The little drummer boy
doom dooms
to the chants
of moonbeams.
The tiny baby
winks
to the ox and lamb.
Animals are always in
on the plan
to make
the world smile.
So This Is Christmas
I thought I had some of my best Christmases as a child, and although as an adult I spent each Christmas with my parents, I thought the Christmas of 1980 would not have much joy in it. John Lennon had been murdered on December 8th, and that incident was still weighing on my mind
My mother sent my father and I out on an errand that Christmas Eve day to find a particular item. We spent hours searching until we found it. But, that’s not what made the day great. It was how the conversations that ensued that day transformed our attitude for this particular year’s celebration.
When I was a young girl, my dad is the one who called me in from another room to watch the Beatles being interviewed on a talk show. We were both hooked right then. The years went by. “Rocky Raccoon” became one of his favorite Beatle’s songs. We both owned every Beatle’s album. Now, a married adult who lived hundreds of miles away from my parents, I did not realize that he had also embraced Lennon’s solo works, and owned those also.
As we rummaged through the stores, we dissected Lennon’s work after the Beatles. We discussed the be-bop tempo of “Instant Karma”, and the nature of the words. We waxed philosophical about the images throughout “Imagine.” We talked about the intensity of the Mind Games album, recorded at a low point in Lennon’s life. But mostly, we reveled over Double Fantasy, the album that had been released only one month prior to John’s death. We were both still digesting the songs, and had a lengthy discussion about what a magnificent contribution to the music world this opus was.
With every new store, the depth of our fanship, and our connection to each other through the magical art of Lennon’s music grew. We came back to the house, victorious in our purchase, but also with a much deeper bond between us. All thanks to the music gifted to us by this one man whom we were still mourning.
John, you were right. All you do need for Christmas is love.
From Spica's Frequency:
Tower of Babel Redefined
Know the confusion of voices,
know the jumbling,
spoken to you in a daze of uncertainty.
Heed the babel
that stands as sound with no tower,
the chaos of speech swaying to and fro.
Know the mix-up
of words spoken at odds,
when no words seem to match reality.
Know the vocalizations
that spin around inside your head,
looking for a landing.
Know the disconcert
of messages never ceasing,
that you strive to understand.
Know the baffled feeling of indecision
when confronted with too many choices.
No need to interpret a foreign language;
they’re only the commands of your own conscience.
Poet Linda Imbler has assembled a truly remarkable collection of poems for her latest book, “Spica’s Frequency.” This is gorgeous poetry full of hope, connections, and powerful “what-ifs”. This is a book full of splendid images that will inspire, and remind you why it is so great to be alive. There are also some sorrowful images to which many can relate.
Divided into poems delving into the here and now, with the second section probing concepts of the there and then, this book examines life, and in some cases, the afterlife with thoughtful and compelling intensity. Neither longtime fans nor new readers will be disappointed,
As a bonus, background for the Mysterious Corridor poem will be of particular interest to those who experience recurring dreams as Linda takes you on a short tour of her own long, strange trip through the imaginative images she has had while sleeping. This is an outstanding book worth every read and reread.