WANTING (a new poem to be read aloud after a deep inhalation)

                        

Wanting 

                                            by S. L. Lipson                                

     I am sick of mediocrity

     and superficiality 

     and damn conditionality 

        rewarded by society,

        more so than humble piety

        or dignified sobriety,

     or earnest dedication,

     while valuable education

     is devalued in this nation,

        and money is equated

        with all that’s highly rated 

        by teachers who have stated

     that they define what’s best

     with mere numbers on a test,

     scores higher than the rest,

        as if that is a measure 

        of what we all should treasure

        over intangible pleasure—

     like laughter shared with friends,

     warm hugs that make amends, 

     mere awareness that transcends

        the tangible into gratitude,

        becoming a blessed attitude;

        and this is no mere platitude!

            It’s a call to all to reassess

            the key to peace and happiness:

            to value more while wanting less.

Transitional Moments Captured in Poetry: A Few New Poems by Yours Truly

First, a poem about so many people I know, facing new physical limitations, forced job changes, or abrupt endings to life as they knew it....


Transition 

By Susan L. Lipson                                                      

                                             

"Well, I used to be a..."

He pauses.

Hearing his own regrets

in casual conversation 
sparks an epiphany:

Time to BE,

who he is now.

Time to accept

and roll onward--

forward.

And now a personal poem, about becoming an "empty nester":

Tides of Change

By Susan L. Lipson

Sometimes a wave hits me,

knocks me over with a question:

Is this really not temporary--

are my kids really not coming home to live with me again?

And I think I might drown in my lonely cup of coffee,

at a table meant for five.

But then, into my paddling hands, float lovely seashells:

a phone message, a text, an email

from one of them,

and my buoyancy returns

to keep me afloat.

And finally, a poem based on my first published poem, about a shocking moment in the life of a new doctor--a poem featuring a few simultaneous transitions, colored by irony:

Manicure

Unscrewing the top of the bottle of nail polish,

Aachooing from the odor of the “Pink Pearl” liquid,

Eschewing her desire to paint her left hand first with her steadier right fingers,

Renewing the brightness of her thick, yellowed nails,

Undoing the ancient look of her wrinkled hands,

Subduing the wave of wistfulness she feels about her once lovely skin,

Imbuing every stroke with a feeling of accomplishment,

Reviewing the accuracy of her colorful coverage,

Redoing the nails that show thin spots,

Pursuing beauty until…

 she dies, and a medical student begins

Undoing it all with a scalpel:

Dissecting the withered hands,

Inspecting the bones, tendons, and ligaments of his live model,

Protecting the structure to keep it intact as he is

Detecting the actual parts that were mere terminology until now;

Respecting the complexity of this appendage, while

Rejecting the sight of the chipping pink nail polish to keep it from

Affecting his composure by

Connecting this hand to an old woman, who only weeks ago, was

Selecting this pink color to paint over her nails, and never

Suspecting that the color would outlive her—No!

Correcting his use of her to it in his mind,

Electing to ignore the one sign of humanness that remains, and

Reflecting on that irony.

 The transition of one of my favorite children's authors, Natalie Babbitt, whose writing days ended forever a couple of days ago, made me feel contemplative today. Words left in others' memories carve out our place on this planet better than any tombstone markers.

Underappreciated Resource for Fiction Writers

How The Bible Can Help Build Character—Fictional Ones, That Is…

If you want to study how to write multidimensional, realistically imperfect characters, with complex backstories and universally recognized flaws and attributes, look no further than the Hebrew Bible. Show me a flawless hero in the Five Books of Moses—I challenge you. And show me a reader of the Bible who can’t identify with at least one person depicted there, in some compelling, and possibly life-changing way.

Why, one might wonder, is a book designed to teach and serve as Law, replete with flawed examples of humanity? Some Bible readers would say that such questions are moot, applicable only to fiction; they would assert that the people of the Bible are not “characters,” but ancestors—real people—and they must be portrayed truthfully because the Bible is nonfiction, a historical record. Others, who read the Bible as historical fiction, might argue that the omniscient narrator point-of-view of realistically flawed characters allows readers to decide, based on their own perspectives, which characters to connect with as they read, and also to find new connections with each rereading as their own perspectives about life evolve over time. In either case, some readers might complain that it’s difficult to feel connected to, or even sympathetic toward, characters we would only emulate by being the opposite of them. I would point out to such readers that all of us read stories, in a way, to find and define ourselves, and every person can find aspects of their own character within the ultimate compendium of human traits known as the Bible.

• If I want to portray a story of a nonconformist who follows only the supernatural stirrings within his own heart and soul, defying social norms to do so, because he knows somehow that he is right about society’s need for a new way of thinking, I need only study the story of Abraham. 

• To create a complex tale of deception and extortion among family or friends, I can find material within the biblical scenes about blind Isaac; his scheming son, Jacob; his impulsive son, Esau; and their manipulative mother, Rebecca. 

• For a novel centered on dangerous sibling rivalry that almost destroys a family and alters society itself, I could find source material in the ancient stories of Jacob and his twelve sons. 

• To portray a boy whose deep friendship with another boy is gossiped about as “gay,” a boy who stands up for his friendship even if it means challenging authority, I need to study the Bible story of David and Jonathan—the original “bromance.” 

• If I want to share a story of an outcast, morally corrupt young woman who redeems herself by risking her life for the sake of a greater social good, I can study the tale of Rahab, the prostitute, who saved a city from complete destruction. 

• If I want to create a political tale of a paradoxically noble, yet self-centered leader whose downfall seems to be an addiction to sex, I could borrow from the story of King David (not to mention some recent historical figures).

• And if I decide to depict a story of a boy with psychic gifts, good looks, and charisma, a boy who evokes as much bitter envy as he does awe, a boy who becomes victimized by the ones meant to protect him, and then uses his gifts to reverse his fortune change the world, that’s the story of Joseph, son of Rachel and Jacob.  

Etcetera… You get the idea. The archetypes of most multidimensional characters have already appeared in the world’s best-selling, longest-existing collection of tales of humanity. The bible is not just for religious study; it’s not just about laws and wars and punishments; it’s not just about obedience to God and warnings about defiance of commandments; the bible is the fountainhead of all humanity-based writing. Amen!

A Poem To Capture a Conversation

Back and Forth

By Susan L. Lipson, October 2015

You toss a ball to me                                   

Stiffly

And I catch it, flashing a smile at you

That you don’t, or can’t, return.

I toss it back

Casually

And you let it drop and roll, sighing,

Because you didn't like my throw.

"C'mon," I encourage you, "throw it back,"

And I pick it up and hurl it at you

Sharply,

Noticing you wince at its impact.

You whip the ball at me now,

And I leap to grab it

But miss,

And you sigh with exasperation

That I just didn’t get it—

That I just don’t get you.

The Difference Between Knowledge and Wisdom

To find wisdom: Be still, observe, experience!

Knowledge grows from shared and augmented perceptions, a.k.a. “facts,” while wisdom grows from quiet and profound observations, a.k.a. “epiphanies.”

     In today’s world, people store the perceptions known as “facts” as an end in itself: the acquisition of intelligence. In a social setting, if we haven’t read or heard the latest news to garner a hashtag, we might be viewed as unintelligent, dismissed for offering no insights on what “everyone knows.” In previous centuries, however, before people collected “facts” via modern media, people aspired to be wise, not just smart. And the seekers among those ancient people sought guidance from proverbial “wise men,” revered because their wisdom profoundly impacted seekers’ lives. Wisdom had nothing to do with facts.

     In olden times, the wise were those who observed their surroundings and their feelings with full attention, and then faithfully applied their intuition to their observations to reach profound levels of understanding. Sages and prophets of old didn’t publish research papers or conduct scientific studies, didn’t hold academic degrees to justify their credibility, and didn’t spout facts or statistics they’d read in various media to support their heartfelt assertions; they studied life itself, by being present, being observers of beauty in unexpected places, being moved by interactions, and being aware of all connections and coincidences. This way of being resulted in the epiphanies that have, throughout human history, altered social thought, heightened collective consciousness, and started new religions and ways of living. Wisdom had nothing to do with academia.

     Ironically, epiphanies today must pass the credibility test determined by fact-checking intellectuals and the inspired person’s credentials. To espouse a view or proclaim a truth, one needs proof, not just gut instincts. If some barefooted, uncredentialed preacher, like Moses or Jesus or Buddha, posted philosophical speeches on YouTube today, they would need introductions by academic types to have any chance of “going viral,” let alone gaining a respectable number of views. Absurd, isn’t it, to think that what legions of modern people faithfully accept as Truth came to us via wise people without formal education? Wisdom had nothing to do with education.

     These words and thoughts about the differences between knowledge and wisdom arose, I now see, to wrestle the guilty feelings in my head evoked by my ignorance of some historical event that came up in a conversation with friends who obviously considered that event to be “common knowledge.” I could have dismissed my feelings of inadequacy with a quip: “I’m no commoner, obviously,” or “I only store uncommon knowledge.” But I chose to seek answers to my discomfort via intuition and meditative thought instead. So that means this blog post is either an epiphany or a rationalization. Hmm…

Digest This!

#NationalPoetryWritingMonth (#NaPoWriMo14)

April 23, 2014Shakespeare's Birthday!

My poem for Day 23 of National Poetry Writing Month simply had to use a literary conceit to honor the great poet! And here it is, full of words not usually considered poetic, to say the least, but in a sardonic, Shakespearian tone.

Digest This!

By S. L. Lipson

If social intolerance for minorities

could be modified by enzymes,

like lactose intolerance,

then the verbal diarrhea

spewed by bloated egos

would be mitigated,

and the acid of cramped minds

would not be regurgitated;

then all would feel settled,

and the growling and discomfort would cease.

In the absence of such enzymes, though,

we might try dietary restrictions:

limiting our slanted media consumption
as a first step.

A New Spin on “Show, Don’t Tell”: How Writers Can Be as Memorable as Their Words

          Most us of have heard the saying, “You’re only as good as your word.” Does that also imply that you’re only as memorable as your word(s), too? Does it matter whether you matter as much as the matter you write? Maybe you’re fine with remaining anonymous, letting your words supersede your self. But most writers have more ego than that; it’s not a bad thing, but a fact. If you’re like me, you write words because your inner graffiti artist wants to leave a mark upon the world, to draw eyes to unexpected views that represent you to others and make them remember you.

[that was my graffiti, yes]

          You have surely been advised to “Show, don’t tell” in your writing. Well, here’s how to apply that adage to yourself, as author, to be as memorable as your words:

1. Show your respect for words via precise word choices, no matter how many revisions it takes to find them.
2. Show your respect for your readers via subtlety and conciseness, to honor their ability to interpret and their appreciation of precious time—both of which are disregarded by superfluous words and overwritten descriptions.
3. Show your depth of observations and psychological insights by developing characters that seem realistic and evoke empathy from readers.
4. Show your wit via well-paced, cleverly worded phrases that carry readers along, rather than force them to follow.
5. Show your intelligence via apt analogies, thoughtful symbolism, and insightful observations.
6. Show your style via figurative language that reflects images the way you’d post pictures on Instagram to reflect your personality.
7. Show your values via your fictional characters’ successes and failures, qualities and faults, their coping methods, and their various points-of-view.
8. Show your personal path in life by noticing and accentuating the thematic threads that run through many of your writings.  
9. Show your artistic influences via your allusions.
10. Show your understanding of your readers by choosing age- and/or genre-appropriate matter to unfold.