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An Earth Day Prayer

Gaia, those who listen to you, hear your cries

Those who see, see when we do harm to you

Those who feel know your sorrow

Let more people’s ears be open to your sorrows

Let more people see what has been done to you

Let more people feel your sadness

Let use seek to heal what must be healed

The waters, the land and the peoples

Let us know that a small harm multiplies

Let us never cease caring for you

Let us never to cease trying to open the ears and eyes

Of the one’s who claim dominion over your body.

Let us seek to heal you and by doing be healed ourselves

Let us hear the trees and their guardian Dryads

Let us see the ocean’s creatures and their guardian Merfolk

Let us know the fresh waters runnings and their guardian Undines

Let us listen to the earth and her guardian Gnomes

Let us be aware that we are not the only ones must live

On our spinning blue marble.

Let us be open. Let us heal you. Let us live.

Kat 2014

Poetry Month – Cyntia Smith and Ruth Barrett

Brighid

Hear my words, I’m calling from your heart

And calling from your mind

I am the spark that kindles the flame

And nurtures all mankind

For a jewel of light has been at every root

And lies within the soil’s clay

And it cradles the babe of our visions and dreams

And sends all creation into flight.

Take my hand, I’ll pull to free your stance

I pull only at first

And when you push on to make out a path

The waiting seed pods burst

There’s a fountain that flows and deep within the rock

And satisfies the thirst in all.

And it cools the brow when the hammer falls

And smooths the way for the birth.

So speak my name, I’ll come to any door

And come at any hour

And when you raise your voice and your heart

Your innocence is power

And the healing of love can sweeten bitter taste

And wash the poison from the wound

And it fills every sail to ride upon the sea

And guides every vessel homeward bound.

Recent Anti-Feminist Hate Speech

elfkat:

Yikes!

Originally posted on winterdominatrix:

21

Recent Anti-Feminist Hate Speech.

These are Death threats male-born Trans make to lesbians when the Lesbians do not want to have straight sex with them,

I know male born trans want to be accepted by women, but the PIV you are trying to push on them, is in fact, straight -sex .

They are refusing to have free unattached sex with you because they are gay. They are not bigiots, they are gay. Making deaththreats to lesbians because they dont want to have sex with you, penis & all is wrong. and many of the lesbians these trans threaten only have that complaint!

View original

One last librarian

I forgot one librarian. We had two church libraries. One for adults and one for kids and there was only one thing I was interested in reading. This series: http://www.librarything.com/series/Childhood+of+Famous+Americans. They were originally published in the 1950’s and the ones in the church library all had red library bindings which made them easy to home in on. I read every single one. It was my first introduction to biographies. And it should be no surprise that my favourites were the ones about famous women. I think my very favourite one when I was little was the one on Jane Addams and even more delighted as an adult to find out she was gay and when she won the Nobel Prize she brought her partner. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jane_Addams

But I also read about Clara Barton and Elizabeth Blackwell, Helen Keller and Betsey Ross, Molly Pitcher and Dolly Madison. The only men I remember making a big impression were John James Audubon and Meriwether Lewis. I remember being horribly disappointed when I read them all and it took me about 2 years to do it because I could only go on Sunday. For some reason they weren’t in the public libraries. I remember more than one Sunday afternoon curled up in our apricot tree reading hidden from prying eyes. During the summer there was no Junior Church or second service Sunday School so while we waited for church to end I’d be reading those books up in the choir room with the choir robing ladies as my chaperone. They knew better than to disturb me when I was reading.

Now I see they have added a lot of modern figures to the series. When I was a kid there were over a hundred. They aren’t really biographies. They are the fictionalized stories of famous Americans childhoods with a chapter at the end of what they did as a grownup.

I can’t remember the librarian’s name. (It’s been about 50 years.) I just remember her delight at seeing me grow through those books like a cloud of locusts. Most Sunday mornings I was the only one in there. Everyone else was busy crowding around the memory work ladies. Since I hated to memorize and was absolutely terrible at it and was only interested in the bare minimum I went last there. No, I had to go to the tiny Sunday School room that had been converted into that Aladdin’s cave. I was also the only one that didn’t want to read about Jesus or to read Bible stories. Just those wonderful windows into those people’s lives. I remember making sure I never spilled anything on those wonderful red covers. Someday in my copious spare time, I’ll read them all again.

A little late for library week but thanks to all the librarians, it’s all your fault

I hated Junior High (middle school now) with a passion. I was too advanced in some things, some things they wouldn’t let me take because I was a girl and some things I just didn’t do well in. So I got to 8th grade and they didn’t know what to do with me for one elective period because they wouldn’t let me take shop and I wouldn’t take choir because I was already in 2 at church and they wouldn’t let me take typing because I was college prep. Only girls in the non-college prep courses could take secretarial classes according to my guidance counselor. Latin that I really wanted to take wasn’t until the 9th grade and the only class available to me was Library Science.

I loved that class. A class where I could read as much as I liked with no restrictions? Oh yeah, my kind of class for sure. My teacher/librarian knew my parents and I suspect had gotten some warning about me before I got there since one of the first things she did was aim me at the juvenile Heinlein shelf and my love of her after that had no bounds. She had one odd quirk though she never got my name right the entire year, she would call me Rosemary, Mary Ellen, Mary Ann, Mary Jo, Mary anything but my name. I never knew whether it was on purpose or she was just that absent minded about names.

We learned to use that weird orange library paste to mend books. We learned how to do bulletin boards for holidays or to promote reading. I think other than getting to read that was my next favourite thing. I still remember the Spring board I made with huge construction paper bunnies that I designed and made all by myself. No one had ever indulged me in letting me do art in public since I made a fish for the principal’s office in the first grade. I was in heaven when she let me at the bulletin boards.

We learned how to check books in and out and to shelve books correctly. I still find myself fixing shelves in bookstores and libraries now. The problem with shelving books is a lot like the problem of being a magpie or a faery. You get a really bad case of “oooo shiny” if you are the type of curious reader I was and am. I now dread the Kindle Daily newsletter with all the those inexpensive books in all kinds of topic I can afford to indulge myself in but if it was a physical book I’d never afford to buy, let alone all the free old books.

Books took me away as a kid from bad situations. The most frustrating thing about my eye surgery when I was 7 was that they bandaged my eyes every night for about 2 months and I couldn’t read in bed. My grandmother understood, when everyone else was giving me stuffed animals she gave me a huge beautifully illustrated Golden Book of Rairy Tales. This one as a matter of fact: http://www.amazon.com/Golden-Book-Fairy-Tales-Classics/dp/030717025X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1398183311&sr=1-1&keywords=golden+book+of+fairy+tales. I still have it and one of the times I beat my brother up was for crayoning in the inside face sheet. I love that book. Even when I brought to my 5th grade class because we were supposed to bring our favourite book, so I brought this one and the evil Mrs Richards chose to read the Grimm fairy tale about the girl who makes a key out the bones of her little finger to free her brothers. Mrs Richards screamed at me for that one not being appropriate and that I should be ashamed of myself for reading such a disgusting thing. I just thought she was nuts and if it was that bad she could have read it herself first but I liked the story. I knew she hated me when I got to that school after we moved from the Valley but that she didn’t dare do too much to me because that had been my dad’s school until the year I started so all the teachers knew who I was so she could only do little nasty things.

Libraries were heaven growing up. I found so many characters to fall in love with. One of the best days when I was in 5th grade was when Mom got permission for me to start using the adult section since I had pretty well done a Hannibal on the children’s section downstairs, including reading the entire set of encyclopedias.

So the first book I wanted was Don Quixote because I heard it was a good book. The adult librarian called my mom asking if I had permission to read it. My mom’s answer, I could read any book I wanted and I wouldn’t understand the parts I wasn’t supposed to anyway. Which turned out to be true since I was a lot older before I figured out Dulcinea was a prostitute. It was a cool book. After that I think the librarians upstairs gave up on me because I was a free-range goat when it came to reading. I was reading all the Mad Scientist books and Danny Dunn books in the kids section down stairs and reading things like a biography of Mary Queen of Scots and murder mysteries by Dell Shannon (and her many aliases) and all the folklore I could find for Scotland, Scandinavia, and Egypt I could lay my hands on. I was reading Archeology and Natural History and Gerald Durrell and James Thurber and Bennett Cerf. I was reading Mary Stewart’s books about Arthur and the Moonspinners. Got myself a bit embarrassed when I tried reading the Naked Ape and quickly put that one back. In short if it crossed my path and wiggled too much I read it.

So I want to thank all the librarians that laid shiny objects in my path to pick up. I want to thank them and my parents and grandparents for letting me travel worlds seen and unseen. I want to thank them for allowing me to be the curious kid and adult I still am. Thank you! It’s all your fault that I’m a writer and a storyteller.

Poetry Month – Robert Frost

Nothing gold can stay

Nature’s first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.