misspelled words visit
a dictionary to get
themselves corrected.
hans ostrom
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Thursday, December 27, 2012
The Number of Likes in the New Era
(found language)
i want to puke bc
my friends' lives now revolve
around the number of likes their pictures get on facebook
and instagram and there are only a handful left who still have souls
so who wants to be my friend
hans ostrom 2012
i want to puke bc
my friends' lives now revolve
around the number of likes their pictures get on facebook
and instagram and there are only a handful left who still have souls
so who wants to be my friend
hans ostrom 2012
I Like your URL: Compliments in the New Era
(found language)
I like your URL
and seriously enjoy your blog
One of muh favs! :3
And your smiles amazuhn! Lol
and you are so not rude. Lol
you're seriously love
on here, though--
like one person says something and
10 peeps back you up(: I enjoy that.
hans ostrom 2012
I like your URL
and seriously enjoy your blog
One of muh favs! :3
And your smiles amazuhn! Lol
and you are so not rude. Lol
you're seriously love
on here, though--
like one person says something and
10 peeps back you up(: I enjoy that.
hans ostrom 2012
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Cousins of Tumblr
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hans ostrom
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numblr
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hans ostrom
Monday, December 24, 2012
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Translation by Kenneth Rexroth
Someone told me it's Kenneth Rexroth's birthday today.
Here is link to a reading of a translation by him of a Chinese poem:
"Starting at Dawn"
Here is link to a reading of a translation by him of a Chinese poem:
"Starting at Dawn"
Friday, December 21, 2012
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
i have seen the people
i have seen the people walking
in cities and talking to the things held up
to their ears. i have seen the people
everywhere looking down at these things
in their hands and tapping at the things
with their fingers the way raccoons
touch moonlit water. the things sometimes
illumine the faces of the people
as if to say, “here, here is light to light
your face as you look at this thin thing and tap
with your fingers.” sometimes i have wanted
to make love to some of the women who look down
at their the things in their hands and tap
with their fingers. it is an idle desire, a fancy.
even i do not take it seriously, i say to you.
i say to you, let the people
talk to the things held up to their ears.
let them tap with their fingers.
let them communicate the living hell
out of life and leave messages and
send texts, summon maps, download
apps, and upload lodes of info-laden
digitation. i say to you let the people
update, and let them post. if i
should be talking to you
in a cafe and briefly take a rhetorical
stand in favor of intimacy and sex
in place of the way people work with
these thin things they hold
in their hands, please ignore me.
i say to you, i am
not always so old-fashioned, out-of-step,
and creepy. i say to you, even as you may
sit across from me, yes, to ahead and
tap on that thing, hold
it up to your year, speak into it, and listen.
update and post. save and delete.
i say to you i can wait. i will think thoughts.
Hans Ostrom, 2012
in cities and talking to the things held up
to their ears. i have seen the people
everywhere looking down at these things
in their hands and tapping at the things
with their fingers the way raccoons
touch moonlit water. the things sometimes
illumine the faces of the people
as if to say, “here, here is light to light
your face as you look at this thin thing and tap
with your fingers.” sometimes i have wanted
to make love to some of the women who look down
at their the things in their hands and tap
with their fingers. it is an idle desire, a fancy.
even i do not take it seriously, i say to you.
i say to you, let the people
talk to the things held up to their ears.
let them tap with their fingers.
let them communicate the living hell
out of life and leave messages and
send texts, summon maps, download
apps, and upload lodes of info-laden
digitation. i say to you let the people
update, and let them post. if i
should be talking to you
in a cafe and briefly take a rhetorical
stand in favor of intimacy and sex
in place of the way people work with
these thin things they hold
in their hands, please ignore me.
i say to you, i am
not always so old-fashioned, out-of-step,
and creepy. i say to you, even as you may
sit across from me, yes, to ahead and
tap on that thing, hold
it up to your year, speak into it, and listen.
update and post. save and delete.
i say to you i can wait. i will think thoughts.
Hans Ostrom, 2012
Because Reality Doesn't Tire
I moved a stretched-out worm
from wet concrete to dirt. Heard
a U.S. Air Force plane scrape
the space between here and that
imaginary sky. Noticed how
people do what they can
to maintain wood and masonry
exteriors of their abodes but
eventually surrender to stains,
cracks, rot, moss, and grit.
Because reality doesn't tire
and we do, it's easier to watch TV
and recover from work than to work
on shelter's exterior all the
goddamned time. It just is.
Hans Ostrom, 2012
from wet concrete to dirt. Heard
a U.S. Air Force plane scrape
the space between here and that
imaginary sky. Noticed how
people do what they can
to maintain wood and masonry
exteriors of their abodes but
eventually surrender to stains,
cracks, rot, moss, and grit.
Because reality doesn't tire
and we do, it's easier to watch TV
and recover from work than to work
on shelter's exterior all the
goddamned time. It just is.
Hans Ostrom, 2012
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Best Wedding Ever? Rudy and John Got Married
I may have attended the best wedding ever yesterday. Of course, I borrow "best wedding ever" from the online lingo of the now; people often write "best. day. ever." (for example) as they tweet and post and update. And, depending upon how the marriage goes, one's own wedding is usually thought to be the best. Or maybe the wedding of one's child.
Nonetheless, this wedding was more than splendid. It happened in Tacoma, Washington, where "same-sex" marriage is now legal. Rudy Henry and John McCluskey got married. There were about 200 people in attendance, and a friend was only half-joking when he said, "This may be the social event of the year in Tacoma."
Not that Rudy or John are local celebrities or ever sought the spotlight. It's just that a lot of people love them, and they've done a lot of good work over the years. John, for example, has been working to help young gay and lesbian persons for decades--to keep them safe, sheltered, counseled, and supported. I met John about 10 years ago when my wife and I hosted a fund-raiser for a campaign to secure rights for gay and lesbian people in Tacoma. The resulting law made harassing such persons or denying them housing illegal. John is a tall, elegant man, right (I almost wrote "straight") out of the 1950s: dapper, urbane, witty. Rudy is also a very funny, very kind, smart person, too. In Tacoma, both have been what used to be called "pillars of the community"; that's partly why so many local officials, business leaders, people who work in the not-for-profit sector, and academics were there.
But the thing is, Rudy and John have been together for 53 years. Completely compatible, totally devoted, and loving. All "relationships" should be so blessed and resilient. And it had to be a "relationship" for 53 years because society didn't want people like Rudy and John getting married. Go figure.
So there we were in a Methodist Church, with a pastor and the Mayor co-presiding.
Rudy has some health-problems, so he sat in his wheel-chair, with one arm bound to his chest. He was pushed down the aisle, then up a side-ramp and around to where we could see him. Then came John, escorted by a friend. Eventually John sat next to Rudy, and the ceremony was on. Both wore classic black tuxedos, flowers in the lapels.
When it came time for Rudy to say, "I do," he dead-panned it, putting in mind Jack Benny. A tilt of the head to the side, a slight raising of the eyes, the perfectly timed pause, the sigh, and then, "I do." We all cracked up--except from John, who just smiled. At one point during the ceremony, Rudy, like every person in the building, was overcome by the moment and wept a bit. John comforted him and kissed his head and held his hand. When it came time for the rings, John put one on Rudy's finer--and on his own , for Rudy doesn't have the dexterity just now.
Not incidentally, the opening song, played and sung by Steve Smith, was "Oh, Happy Day." The closing song, recorded, was "What a Lovely Way to Spend and Evening." There was to be another, final recording, but of course the equipment malfunctioned, so Steve jumped up, ran to the piano, and played & sang "We're Going to the Chapel, and We're Going to Get Married."
It's impossible to describe how much love and respect there was in that relatively small space on Tacoma Avenue, a cold rain thumping the concrete and asphalt outside.
And there was not a little grief, for one not only admires the dedication, dignity, and perseverance of Rudy and John (and others like them); one also grieves for the difficulties they have faced. And for the long wait. But it's good to remember that, for the most part, they weren't waiting. They were living their lives, together, for 53 years. Finally, sluggish society caught up with them.
When they came back down the aisle together, we all applauded, cheered, and wept. As is often the case with weeping, the reasons were multiple and complicated. We wept for their happiness. Some may have wept because Rudy and John, without trying to do so, show us how good people can be. We wept because of their 53-year-wait. We wept because Rudy is frail.
Most of the things that make society good, that--in fact--make it work, were present when Rudy and John got married. That the wedding took place shortly after the atrocity in Connecticut put this goodness in stark relief.
I am not among Rudy's and John's close friends. My wife knows them better than I do because she ahs worked with them. But I count myself privileged merely to be their acquaintances. So when it was my turn to say a few words to John, I said, "Congratulations, John. You're my hero. I love you." I hugged him, and he hugged me. "I love you," I said. "I love you," he said.
How blessed we all were to observe this wedding, and "observe" was one theme of the wedding, for Rudy and John, being Christians, invited a friend to read a favorite selection of theirs from the New Testament, specifically Luke, Chapter 17, verse 20:
Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, "The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, 'Look, here it is!' or 'There it is!' For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you."
Rudy and John got married. Best. Wedding. Ever.
Nonetheless, this wedding was more than splendid. It happened in Tacoma, Washington, where "same-sex" marriage is now legal. Rudy Henry and John McCluskey got married. There were about 200 people in attendance, and a friend was only half-joking when he said, "This may be the social event of the year in Tacoma."
Not that Rudy or John are local celebrities or ever sought the spotlight. It's just that a lot of people love them, and they've done a lot of good work over the years. John, for example, has been working to help young gay and lesbian persons for decades--to keep them safe, sheltered, counseled, and supported. I met John about 10 years ago when my wife and I hosted a fund-raiser for a campaign to secure rights for gay and lesbian people in Tacoma. The resulting law made harassing such persons or denying them housing illegal. John is a tall, elegant man, right (I almost wrote "straight") out of the 1950s: dapper, urbane, witty. Rudy is also a very funny, very kind, smart person, too. In Tacoma, both have been what used to be called "pillars of the community"; that's partly why so many local officials, business leaders, people who work in the not-for-profit sector, and academics were there.
But the thing is, Rudy and John have been together for 53 years. Completely compatible, totally devoted, and loving. All "relationships" should be so blessed and resilient. And it had to be a "relationship" for 53 years because society didn't want people like Rudy and John getting married. Go figure.
So there we were in a Methodist Church, with a pastor and the Mayor co-presiding.
Rudy has some health-problems, so he sat in his wheel-chair, with one arm bound to his chest. He was pushed down the aisle, then up a side-ramp and around to where we could see him. Then came John, escorted by a friend. Eventually John sat next to Rudy, and the ceremony was on. Both wore classic black tuxedos, flowers in the lapels.
When it came time for Rudy to say, "I do," he dead-panned it, putting in mind Jack Benny. A tilt of the head to the side, a slight raising of the eyes, the perfectly timed pause, the sigh, and then, "I do." We all cracked up--except from John, who just smiled. At one point during the ceremony, Rudy, like every person in the building, was overcome by the moment and wept a bit. John comforted him and kissed his head and held his hand. When it came time for the rings, John put one on Rudy's finer--and on his own , for Rudy doesn't have the dexterity just now.
Not incidentally, the opening song, played and sung by Steve Smith, was "Oh, Happy Day." The closing song, recorded, was "What a Lovely Way to Spend and Evening." There was to be another, final recording, but of course the equipment malfunctioned, so Steve jumped up, ran to the piano, and played & sang "We're Going to the Chapel, and We're Going to Get Married."
It's impossible to describe how much love and respect there was in that relatively small space on Tacoma Avenue, a cold rain thumping the concrete and asphalt outside.
And there was not a little grief, for one not only admires the dedication, dignity, and perseverance of Rudy and John (and others like them); one also grieves for the difficulties they have faced. And for the long wait. But it's good to remember that, for the most part, they weren't waiting. They were living their lives, together, for 53 years. Finally, sluggish society caught up with them.
When they came back down the aisle together, we all applauded, cheered, and wept. As is often the case with weeping, the reasons were multiple and complicated. We wept for their happiness. Some may have wept because Rudy and John, without trying to do so, show us how good people can be. We wept because of their 53-year-wait. We wept because Rudy is frail.
Most of the things that make society good, that--in fact--make it work, were present when Rudy and John got married. That the wedding took place shortly after the atrocity in Connecticut put this goodness in stark relief.
I am not among Rudy's and John's close friends. My wife knows them better than I do because she ahs worked with them. But I count myself privileged merely to be their acquaintances. So when it was my turn to say a few words to John, I said, "Congratulations, John. You're my hero. I love you." I hugged him, and he hugged me. "I love you," I said. "I love you," he said.
How blessed we all were to observe this wedding, and "observe" was one theme of the wedding, for Rudy and John, being Christians, invited a friend to read a favorite selection of theirs from the New Testament, specifically Luke, Chapter 17, verse 20:
Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, "The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, 'Look, here it is!' or 'There it is!' For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you."
Rudy and John got married. Best. Wedding. Ever.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
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