Maurer/Timm Quail Ridge UCD Student Endowment Order Books here Original Poems and Thoughts website Email Frank here: frankmaurer41@gmail.com

Poems and Thoughts by Frank Maurer

Search for:   All Poems   Topics   Titles   Help

Medical

Evolution opus 21

Mutation.
Recombination.
Genetic Drift.
These are the genetic strategies of life,
Allowing us to cling to our very earthly existence.

Virus, one of the ubiquitous forms of life
Which constantly remind us of their existence--
Tenaciously meddling in our lives.

Vaccination-----Immunization.
Our way of guiding evolution,
Preventing new viral forms
Which ravage our human population.

Is it faith in a god which will save us
Or a greater common understanding of our methods of science;
The latter leading us to rational knowledge
Of our ever-present fellow forms of life,
Which use us as a medium for their ceaseless subsistence?

Oh, deliver us from so unsavory a plight!

Ode to my Dentist opus 29

Her soft, warm fingers enter my mouth
And move gently in my orifice.
Warm, in spite of the lovely yellow-green surgical gloves.
She utters soft commands to "Turn towards me"
And "Does that hurt?" And "Now place your partial back in".
And "Does that feel good" and "Is that comfortable?"

Then the partials are finally transferred from her to me.
And I place them on my 'mandible'
And both fit so perfectly, which gives me joy!
When done, she says "I will meet you in the lobby",
But she always arrives and then leaves too soon,
And I am left alone; but with sweet remembrances!

Cancer Demons opus 86

Oh, my. Yet one more bout of cancer--now on my crown.
I have met Her in so many various forms.
She continually attempts to slip past my bulwark,
Attempting entry into my inner vulnerable, vital mortal coil.
So far, Her nemesis, my knight-like doctor, has repaired the gates
And maintained a defensible depth in the moats.

To demonstrate our courage and defensive posture--
I laugh and joke, while discussing poetry and medicine and science
With my capable surgeon who, during this last episode,
Cut out a teaspoon-sized pit down to my very skull.

So there, undeterred, and fiercely opposing---You Cancer!

Caught by a Catfish! opus 98

On one occasion (1985), using a 100 foot long seine and dragging the net from bank to bank (as always) we brought in a large number of catfish to harvest by the pond's edge. The top of a seine has cork floats and the bottom has a thick gathered rope mudline. As I was in my waders and working some snags away from shore, I suddenly felt a piercing pain in my right foot. Immediately I knew exactly what had occurred: A fish was caught sideways in the mudline, a barbed pectoral fin projecting straight upwards! Indeed, the fin had pierced my boot's sole, through the sock and into the ball of my foot. Instructing the student on the shore's end, to pull slowly as I limped in, I reached the bank, the fish connecting me with one fin to the line and the other in my foot-- Too painful to pull out, I reached down and snapped the bone, Thus freeing me from the fish and net, But still with a bone, locking the boot, sock, and foot together.

With great pain, the boot was dislodged, leaving a bare sock and foot (and fishbone)!

A trip to the nearby hospital, very painful anesthetic shots to numb the foot's pain, And the bone was removed, leaving a very sore, 'un-numbing' foot! After a drive back to the farm and to the evening chores, I started in limpingly to finish the end of the day's work. Such was the then life of a peasant on a farm with a PhD!

Elena. Physical Therapist opus 117

Ah, lovely Elena with her braided hair;
She works so dexterously with her nimble hands,
To heal the bodies of her fellow sapiens.

Of Mediterranean stock--
She is an asset to both her present and her past.

Radiation and Half a Beard opus 120

I am, at 81, well into my Third Age.
With this comes challenges to health;
Cancer; the nemesis of human existence.
A neck squamous cell challenged my life
And it was decided to thoroughly operate;
Muscle removed, glands eradicated, and a graft.
The graft became a joke,
In that my neck started a strip of beard,
Borrowed from my chin!

Now, after some healing, the discussion commenced to radiation.
Oh, my. Another decision.
More than a month, for every working day,
I journeyed to Sacramento--the radiation center
Of the Mercy group--Mercy? Perhaps.

Encapsulated in a modelled, personalized upper body form,
Lying immobile, imprisoned; slowly, the pending feast of a Bar-B-Que.
As the days passed, the effect began to be manifested
In redness, rawness, and rigid muscles;
But I was still alive, perhaps now fully saved
By the additional prophylactic radiation.
Oh, and it was mentioned that, "You might lose your left beard!"

Time passed and, indeed, no beard and just bare, soft skin.
Friends showed their sympathy and compassion
But added, "Well, with half a beard, you surely will remove the opposite side?"
Now in my Third Age, without hesitation,
I blurted out with gusto,
"Of course not; I will just create a new style."

A Chat with my Ophthalmologist, Car'mine opus 141

I am turning 82 next month, with a pending driver test renewal!
The written test, I may master with some practice and brain work,
But my eyes are basically immutable--not easily 'fixed'.
One eye is perfect for distance, the other for reading.
I asked how I might pass with one 'bad eye'.
I am so worried I may fail and be permanently banished from the roads.
Car'mine said, 'Please, you have a goldmine.
There are many who drive with only one good eye!'
I was stunned and my depressed thoughts were suddenly elevated.
'What you have just uttered has unleashed me to euphoria!'

My senior worries are much lessened
And I have now a chance to remain
As a functioning member of society with transportation.
A while longer! I am so grateful for your words.

Thank you.

Two Invaders, Meeting opus 159

I walked out back, behind the house, where I feed my steer and emu,
Going slowly through the motions in the shade of the trees--it is 100 degrees F today.
Two large wild, 'invading' male turkeys were nearby.
I do not harass them here and we co-exist, quietly together.
(They were transplanted to California from the East,
Where T. Jefferson and B. Franklin argued over which bird
Should be the National Symbol.)
I fed grain to the emu and cow as tidbits to their daily grazing,
And I had an urge to pass on some feed to the nearby turkeys.
I called out quietly and threw the food in their direction.
One responded and slowly walked over to the suddenly produced cornucopia.
I chatted quietly and urged him (it was indeed a great 'bearded' him),
To continue eating in my presence without fear.
The other male partner was most reluctant and continued grazing its farther grass.
(Later, after I departed, the reluctant one too, joined its brother
To peck away at the remaining grain.)

This all reminded me of the beginnings of the dog--
Probably children near middens piles encouraged those wolf pups,
Brave enough to remain near these little human creatures,
To be rewarded with special tidbits from an outreached hand,
And slowly joined the ranks of that bipedal creature who was to soon dominate the planet,

They, the wolf-becoming-dog, being now in the ranks of the other invading myriads!

The Menstruating Man opus 165

An incision was made in my rear
To reach a gut emergency, resulting from aging!
After two colostomies and the passing of much time,
I have survived! Actually am alive!

The remnants of that mad escapade
Is an unhealed fissure, oozing fluid--
Sometimes with blood and sometimes clear.
After deciding it was best to let it ooze
And not, at my age of 81, to operate once again,
I have a pad with a careful change when needed.

I now see what my human female counterparts endure,
The only female primate who bleeds when not potentially pregnant.
I just bleed or ooze whenever, with never a pregnancy in sight!
But finally, as a feminist, I must now consciously endure
My perennial menstruation and be reminded
That all mammals are basically, genetically female!
(Don't forget those two X's!)

'Iqra' or 'Read' opus 168

Iqra is the name given to a new girl-child, American citizen.
Her Afghani parents escaped the Taliban, experiencing a perilous flight.
They finally were humanely allowed to enter the US
Because their 3 year old daughter was terribly ill.
The 6-month-old, new sibling sister, was named 'Iqra' or 'Read'.
Iqra's father said he named her in defiance of the Taliban regime,
Which, as we well know, is opposed to educating girls.
Half of that country's population hides in languish,
Because of the misinterpretation of Islam!

The fate of so many human groups throughout history,
Have resulted, for good or for evil,
From the 'well meaning interpretation' of some 'chosen high priest'.

The Veterinarian's 'Hippocratic Oath' opus 170

I had a brother-in-law who, urged by his mother, became a veterinarian.
The rest of his sibs, as well as his father and mother
Were in the human medical field.
After a time, he concluded that because he was able
To decide which animal would live or die,
He was personally obliged to forsake animal medicine and shift to humans.

I pondered this decision for many years and decided to investigate
The so-called Hippocratic Oath vs the Veterinarian's Oath.
Such a profound difference, dealing with a dog or cat or cow vs a human!
I invite you to research the two oaths,
But I would like to point out some variations of each.

For vets: 'I solemnly swear to use my scientific knowledge and skills
For the benefit of society through the protection of animal health and welfare, etc'.
'I will practice my profession conscientiously, with dignity, and in keeping
With the principles of veterinary medical ethics.' Etc.
Veterinarians fulfill different roles: dealing with pets, dealing with herds for food,
And dealing with animals that are part of terminal scientific research.
The responsibility to prevent and relieve suffering
Can look significantly different in these varying situations.
Did you know there was a variation of the USA oath used in Canada?

So now for the Hippocratic Oath, the original of which has been modernized.
There have been many modernizations--including a change for 'I will not use the knife...'
No surgery in the early period around AD 275!
Did Hippocrates actually write that first document? Several scholars question that.
Many variations obtained and several 'original' authors have been cited.
In Nazi Germany, medical students did not take the oath,
Although they knew the ethic of 'nil nocere'--do no harm.
In the 1960's the Hippocratic Oath was changed to require
'Utmost respect for human life from the beginning', making it more secular,
Not in the presence of any gods, but before only other people.
'I will remember that I remain a member of society,
With special obligations to all my fellow human beings,
Those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm.'

For veterinarians, their oath is to take care of animals,
But the serious 'human obligation' is obviously missing.
The many variations of the Hippocratic Oath dealing with humans,
Necessarily, are 'our-species-focused obligations and duties'.

I guess, as my brother-in-law did many years ago,
One has to consider the absolute obligations towards creature-animal vs human-animal.
How 'pure' is the decision that one must make towards the life of another?

Lauretta, PA (A Physician Assistant) opus 175

I am a biologist (joying in observing various morphologies),
Also a stone carver, slowly creating petroglyphs with a mallet and chisel,
As well as a poet of sorts, constantly attempting to verbalize that which I perceive.

When I had my appointment with you to discuss my hip implant,
I could not help but admire the perfection of your ear,
The marvellous expression of your eyes, flashing emotion,
Both, cornered with sun-like rays of tiny lines,
And the expression and caring and sympathy in your voice,
As you expounded to me of possible outcomes to my condition.
Also, never to be forgotten is your black hair,
Very gently fringed with wisps of tiny white,
Manifesting your growing wisdom as you flow towards your zenith of life.

Thank you for such memories of which will linger always in my mind.

The Florence Nightingale Pledge opus 182

Now that I have investigated some history of the Hippocratic and Veterinarian's Oaths,
It suddenly hit me that, surely, nurses must have an equivalent.
Sure enough, they do--The Florence Nightingale Pledge!
A devoted pioneer nurse, Lystra E. Gretter, wrote (with a committee) a first version in 1893.
She, herself, within a long career revised this in 1935.
The following are these two versions with only the final sentence modified,
To reflect a more public health model in the later 1935 version.
As a biologist, feminist, and historian, I have noticed the 'female requirements'
Incorporated in the Pledge, even though (or perhaps because)
It was written by a woman, still under male shackles.
(The blatant anti feminist points which occur in the Pledge are printed below in upper case.)
The Pledge is sometimes not used because of the stated physician's power over nurses,
And this wording has been removed and replaced by
'Working together' with 'mutual respect and consideration'.
'Myself before God' is also eliminated in more modern pledges.

I solemnly pledge (myself before God) and in the presence of this assembly,
To pass MY LIFE IN PURITY and to practice my profession faithfully.
I WILL ABSTAIN FROM WHATEVER IS DELETERIOUS AND MISCHIEVOUS,
AND WILL NOT TAKE or knowingly administer any harmful drug.
I will do all in my power to maintain and elevate the standard of my profession,
And will hold in confidence all personal matters committed to my keeping,
And all family affairs coming to my knowledge in the practice of my calling.
WITH LOYALTY WILL I ENDEAVOUR TO AID THE PHYSICIAN in HIS work.
{1893--And devote myself to the welfare of those committed to my care.}
{1935--And as a 'missioner of health' I will dedicate myself to devoted service to human welfare.}

Several subsequent modified pledges have been devised to fit with the times.

A Divided Body? opus 201

Have you ever had a thought
That our bodies are now subdivided into various departments?
We are not one entity, but rather a kaleidoscope of functions:
From podiatry at the foot to ENT at the top.
In between exists cardiology, gastronomy and urology.
As with much of our society, our bodies are medically subdivided.
Of course one argues that specific knowledge is necessary
So that the pundits are able to understand the complexities of each system.

Oh well, it is just a thought as to how,
With deeper and more complex comprehension of anything
There obtains a possibility that the vulgar ceases to understand anything.
Is everything we now know so complex, that the common person
Will just not be 'in the know' about much?
With the human species being obliged to learn so much more,
Are we to 'rest on our laurels' with the ease of possibly even allowing
Augmentation of yet more AI into our future lives?

R3 Food Dye opus 205

Humans create products with good taste and attractive color,
So that the purchase and consumption will be ever-increased.
It is Halloween and one possible danger is the ubiquitous Candy Corn sweet.
It contains the food dye R3 which studies have shown,
Ingestion by, especially children, increases hyperactivity.
Many superfluous items are added to our foods,
Which are mildly or strongly adverse to our health.
As Michael Pollan states in his book,'Omnivore's Dilemma',
'Shop on the outer walls of a grocery store,
To find the purest of healthy, unprocessed foods
For you and your offspring.'
Do not become paranoid, just be ever-vigilant!

Just Wondering opus 209

I have always wondered
Why the Latin Roman Mass
Commences with Kyrie Elyison,
Followed by Kriste Elyison--
Both introductory phrases are in Greek!
    Benedictus.  Ahmen.

I have also wondered why our moon
Seems to never rotate,
Always facing the earth.
On this one I finally learned
That the actual rotation of the moon
Is timed to be in sync
With its orbit in the monthly/yearly
Rotation around our earth!

Realizing the horrible waste and destruction
Which war results from human conflict,
Why have humans generally never learned
From wars' actual consequences throughout history?
Think of the many countries once in conflict,
Which, when all was finalized,
Became allies and staunch trading partners!--
A strange, meaningless enigma.

Lastly, in so many social situations,
Where tasty food, social communication,
And live, musical entertainment commingle,
One of these three often unfairly dominates.
I performed jazz in social situations decades previously--
Always attempting to comfortably 'fit in'.
These days, when I rarely attend such social events,
I am mostly overwhelmed by the horrid volume of music.
It appears that musicians care less about a 'good' performance,
But rather value volume as the means to gain praise and attention.
Of course the result is that the masticating, imbibing conversationalists
Can barely hear each other because of the selfish volume producers,
Oblivious in their own self centeredness.
I compare this present sound pollution,
Literally causing (future) hearing problems of all sorts,
Including tinnitus and, in extreme cases, deafness--
Much as smokers selfishly created in years past,
Resulting in asthma, lung cancer, or even death.

Nora opus 225

On this day, seven years ago at 0115 AM, my wife of 31 years passed.
This was a dynamic marriage with ups and downs--with most of the former.
As with all long term relationships,
The memories become more poignant as time passes.
We met when Nora stopped by to purchase a Wood Duck,
One of many species of wild ducks which I raised on my farm.
She always joked that she came to buy a duck
And left with the duck and a share in half a llama!

As time passed, our experiences became more profound,
Commencing with matching our new kitchen colors
With soft orange-yellow hues of a very studied sunset.
We continually worked together to manage our farm,
Working with chicken and turkey harvesting,
To netting catfish, using our 100 foot seine-nets,
To gathering vegetables from our one acre chemical-free garden,
To raising orphaned emu chicks in our living room!

Nora was a world expert linguist in the Breton language.
She guided me through her conference trips to Scotland and Ireland,
Where I found my own genealogical genetic roots.
Her use of continual elevated vocabulary raised my speaking abilities.

Her encouragement and support for our Quail Ridge land trust was incalculable.
Together, we raised six million dollars and purchased about 2000 acres!
This area is now part of the UCD Natural Reserve System;
Many thought its success would be absolutely impossible--not so!
Beyond this, a Student Endowment is now in a very active, continual place.
Nora and I never had children, but she always nurtured my two boys.

Her end was finalized with a merciless plague of cancer
Which raged throughout her body--she worried most about losing her special mind.
This disease ended the life of a most talented person--
Such knowledge and love was lost to the world forever,
Except through all those remaining who knew her
And continually recount her productive and giving life.

(Also on this day in Texas 60 years ago, JF Kennedy was assassinated.)

Music To My Ears, IV. Further Later Years; Turkey (now Turkiye) opus 234

Because of the economy and available academic jobs available,
I looked abroad and, since I had met Bryant and Betsy Harrell
On Nantucket Island, while I was trapping voles, researching for my Ph.D.,
And he had taken on a new deanship job at Robert College in Istanbul, Turkiye,
(Later to become Bogazici Universitesi),
He offered me a position in the biology department.
I accepted and moved to Turkiye and a new life.
As I and Maggi, my first late wife (killed in an auto accident later in Africa),
Drove through Germany, then Greece, and entered Turkiye,
I tuned the radio to a local station--it was like going to Mars.
I knew several languages, but I recognized not a word being broadcast.
As I said later, it was as though my tongue were removed from my mouth!
We settled into an apartment in Cucuk Bebek, an Istanbul suburb on the Bosphorus.
(See my 'Poems and Thoughts' on swimming the Bosphorus.)

After getting acquainted with my Constantinople Greek department head,
An elderly woman who soon died of cancer--
And I, having an appendicitis and a hospital stay,
I commenced through all that to learn much of my beginning Turkish.
(I actually learned from my Turkish ambulance driver how to count, 1 to 10.)
I discovered some fellow musicians and we befriended each other.
I soon had a leave for visa work and was in Saltzburg, Austria.
We went to an instrument maker and purchased an old 18th century 'cello.
Of course I had to learn the new instrument and its fingering.
Returning 'home' and with much practising, I approached Tom, a violinist,
His wife, Laura, violist, David, a pianist, and a flautist.
We started practising at an apartment in the shadows of the Rumeli Hisar,
A fortress constructed by Ahmet the Conqueror,
Who eventually conquered Constantinople and then all of Turkiye.
We practised every Friday evening from 5 to 11 with a 'gifted' dinner, lasting an hour.
We got quite good together and experienced marvelous evenings.
 I later came down with TB and was confined for many weeks in basic apartment isolation.
During that time I learned Esperanto, wrote, read, and learned the 12 tone system of music
Created by Schönberg, who migrated from Russia to Los Angeles, USA!
(When moving to California, I visited his 'reconstructed' studio at UCLA..)

I composed, in my isolation, two pieces for flute and cello, the scores of which
I later discussed with Karel Husa at Cornell on one of my home leaves.
These two works I performed in the Harrell's
Huge living room overlooking the Bosphorus,with many local colleagues in the audience.
It was a step forward in yet another musical dimension.
The Harrell's were gracious hosts and all went perfectly.
I finally returned to California for yet another life,
My music basically hibernating from thereon,
With so many new agricultural changes pending,
Also, creating the Environmental Education Farm Foundation, a non profit,
As well as the Quail Ridge Wilderness Conservancy land trust,
Music was still all around me, but now played by others.
Each piece they play still yields some memory from my past life.

Grief Unveiled opus 242

I have experienced grief several times during my 82 years--
A brother John, was only 20, a victim of a hunting shooting,
Where the unknown shooter shot in the air with no backing;
A father, his age at only 57, worn out from childhood rheumatic fever,
Which manifested its final blow from a weakened heart,
After testing high altitude breathing equipment during WW II;
A wife, Maggi, driving exam results from the University
To me in the field for proofreading and correction,
When her topheavy Land Rover overturned on a washboard dirt road--
The collision gently broke her neck, leaving no bodily mark;
A dearly beloved grandson, died in a terribly horrible car crash,
The horror shared with two companion boy friends, also dead;
A wife of 31 years, who died with a body riddled with cancer--
A great loss for me and her surrounding world.

I have never cried or became angry,
But rather have created a hand created marker,
Or created an endowment for students in our names together,
Or written narratives extolling their contributions to us all.
This type of grief behavior has been labelled as instrumental grief.
Intuitive grief is shown through emotion,
Such as crying, anger or outright emotional behavior.
I have, until I learned about these differences,
Thought I had not properly grieved.
It is a relief to now understand that I am not 'cold hearted',
And that many other fellow Homo sapiens, similarly grieve.

To My Dermatologist, Christie Carroll, et al opus 273

I would like to take a moment
To thank you for the several times
You have salvaged my aging life.
This is why I feel I am obligated
To give back as best I can
To my wonderful society and all it has given me.
When I am no longer to be productive--
However that might be interpreted--
I ask only that our citizens remember
The attempts I have made
To augment our environment in all its forms.
I truly wish I could live longer
To have the time to pay back what I justly owe.

A Delayed Tale opus 300

Well, I waited for over an hour for my 1:40 PM appointment yesterday,
With my dear oncologist of the last 17 years, Dr. Alali.
When I first met him, for our appointment after I began to mend,
I suddenly blurted out, "You have a third, middle incisor!"
He was originally from Iran and I, having lived in Turkiye,
Had a great deal of cultural overlap with this gentle man.
He reacted appropriately, with soft surprise that I had noticed such a thing.
I explained I was a biologist and that I observed a full gamut of phenomena.
Over the years, we have had many wonderful 'extra medical' discussions.

Now, continuing--Dr. Alali, very late, finally arrived, being the only oncologist on duty.
(I offered to voice a complaint to the administration,
But he answered that things were being rectified.)
Towards the conclusion of our chat and a little examination,
Dr. Alali recollected what he had seen 17 years ago while passing,

As I was lying in the exam room with my then new assistant oncologist.
He told me that he saw a very sick man and he figured in his head,
"That man has six months to live".
I never knew this and it took a moment to comprehend just what that implied!
We smiled together and Alali added that I now looked--cancer-wise--just great.
He said, "I don't always get the timeline correct and when asked,
Must qualify my answer by saying so."
Well, it was profound, especially not knowing his thoughts previously.
I left the room, not really too phased, having gone through so much in my life,
From flying through snowstorms, walking through the Kalahari Desert,
And having been, nearly fatally, attacked twice by very large African elephants!
At any rate, I have 'been given' many extra years--
All the more reason, I wish to give back as much as I am able.

Oh, Dear Southern Alabama opus 310

Our Southern states maintain their infectious friendly cuisine and manners.
Sadly, they hold onto 19th century-thinking concerning several subjects.
Specifically, here, is the question, when is a human, really a human?
The Alabama Supreme Court has now ruled
That a frozen embryo (a fertilized egg) is a child!
Since when could we ever freeze a child?
Since when is a frozen, unattached embryo, (an 'extra uterine child'),
And not within a female uterus, ever be considered a human child?
One of the repercussions, of course, is that 'childless parents'
May no longer be enabled to have a child!
Blind religious edicts lead to human tragedy,
When juxtaposed with the present, technological world.

Science has been developed to yield a life more 'disease free',
As well as a life with reduced mindless toil.
Here, science has allowed human couples, unable to conceive,
To be able to have a possible and healthy pregnancy.
This certainly is a clash of modern technology and continual archaic thinking.

Rationalizing Age opus 319

While chatting on the phone with my son, Pierre, today,
I mentioned my continual, 'gentle', consistent pain
In my somewhat unsuccessful hip replacement.
I told him that at 82, to endure this
'Inconvenience' with my ambulation,
I just rationalize, and tell myself quietly,--
'I am only pretending that I am simply old!'

Condemned to a Possible Death Sentence? opus 335

I was listening today to Public Radio featuring
A narrative about a woman who was
Wrongfully convicted unjustly to a death sentence
For a crime she did not commit.
After 17 years of solitary confinement,
And pro bono help from volunteer attorneys,
She was absolved of the crime and released
To a new world of a lost family and a totally new start.

I was also condemned to isolation and possible death,
While I was living in Turkiye on my new teaching job.
Suddenly, I was coughing up blood and feeling very weak.
I had been travelling, and had to make it back to Turkiye.
Tuberculosis, probably from my childhood,
Reared its head and condemned me to several months of isolation
And several overlapping medications to stabilize my condition.
I was condemned and isolated in my little apartment,
Where my coworkers were wary of visiting because of the disease.
Just as the condemned woman kept herself busy,
I practiced several arts to occupy my mind and remain somewhat sane.

I had learned about the intentional language, Esperanto,
While travelling through Bulgaria.
I purchased a 12-Step 'Teach Yourself Esperanto' and 'went to town'.
After a few weeks, I ordered various literature materials
And started reading. The language is so learner-compatible,
That I read half a page, before resorting to a dictionary!

My 'cello was my musical companion, upon which I practiced
Each day to the point of evening exhaustion!
During this time, I also started composing
A flute and 'cello 12-Tone System duet.
At that time I wrote a couple of scientific articles,
Along with many letters to colleagues and friends.

Without these diversions, I would have been totally lost.
As with confinement, isolation of any kind must be contended with.
The gregarious behavior of humans is a very powerful need
And must always be pursued in all conditions.
To be completely isolated, is to gradually destroy all humanity in a person.

A Pastoral (Bucolic) Sunday Visit opus 350

(An invitation for a Visit to my Ophthalmologist.)

Hello dear Carmine et al.

The weather will be marvelous tomorrow and I am free
To interact with my fellow Homo sapiens.
Please come, the two of you, and enjoy some time together.
You all will be here on Terra Firma in perpetuity,
But I may have just the 'blink of an eye' remaining!
(No medical talk tomorrow--just praising that of having the visual ability
To swoon with the exquisite sights all around us,
Some of which I will humbly interpret for you.)

Seriously, I will relate to no hospital superior
That you have entered my territory--neither mental nor geographic.
It would give me such pleasure to spend a few moments with you
In the freedom of my territory, which I have defended
And made productive for the nation and the world.

I invite you as your devoted and steadfast patient.

Frank

The Fall Risk opus 362

At almost 83, I was yet again faced
With an operation complex enough to be put under.
A large squamous growth on my outer left leg.
Arriving at the hospital, concluding a loquacious taxi ride,
During which we discussed passing farming practices,
I went through the normal drill--
Copay, of course; ID, medical allergies, etc.,
And the normal anointing of my right wrist
With the white bracelet, containing the particulars
Which content the medical staff.
Then, gently, an additional new bracelet
Was juxtaposed by the usual white one--
It was narrower and streamlined and bright yellow--
Large, black lettering announced--'Fall Risk'.

Now, I ID and 'label' birds in my pursuit of new species--
Morphology, call, and feathering to yield age and sex.
Just as I have done so for many years with birds,
The receptionist has ID'ed me as a 'patient type'!
'Why this manner of ID?', I asked.
'Well, your age for one, and your cane!'
Unfortunately, she nailed it--no squirming out--
Just as I make 'positive' bird IDs, so had she!
I am what I am, in this last quarter of my life,
And now, just as with my beloved birds,
I have been absolutely identified and categorized and banded!

Mohammed of Gaza opus 363

His name is Mohammed.
He lives in Gaza.
At 14 he was exploring
The ruins of his home
And came across a canister.
Resulting from the powerful explosion,
He has no left arm
Nor any right-hand fingers.
(His brother helps him to urinate.)
Saved by four doctors,
He may still die--
There is no medical backup.

Ten percent of all bombs
Remain dangerously unexploded.
It will take 40 years in the future
To clear all unexploded explosives.
During that period many inquisitive children
Will continue to die.

Designing Bandages alla Betsy Ross opus 377

I was with my wound women at the hospital,
Designing bandages to cover various wounds
Derived from several cancer operations.
I volunteered to shape and fit these wound covers,
To be long lasting in spite of bodily movements,
Thus maintaining their protection.
Elyse, the LVN, allowed me to participate
And seemed to be impressed with my work,
Suggesting that I replace her as the 'wound lady',
When she was next on her few days off!
What a nice compliment for me--
Her words were the catalyst which harbored up so many memories
Of my past cutting, snipping and binding together with thread,
My past delving into the world of Betsy Ross.
The clincher to all this was when Britta, her boss and my wound guru,
Smiled approvingly to make it all believable!

Amputations of Man and Beast opus 384

Perhaps as long as 30,000 years ago Homo sapiens
Were performing amputations--Homo neanderthalis
Probably had them beat by several thousand years!
But let's talk of amputations millions of years ago!
Carpenter ants, it has now been discovered,
Have continuously amputated injured legs
Of fellow warriors, when necessary.
They are also presumably able to produce
Antibiotic secretions for serious wounds
As well as for amputations when needed--
Lower leg wounds are left alone
Because if altered, death usually occurs,
While upper leg wounds are successfully
Amputated and treated.
Ants produce many antimicrobial compounds
And have evolved to possess many medical treatments.
This, of course, includes therapeutic amputation!

I believe this is monumental information
Which draws our thoughts towards various life forms,
Ever closer together, and gives us pause
As to just how we might evaluate 'other life'!

Dear Women opus 385

Have you completely thought through the implications of how you will vote?
Remedying the Climate Crisis--how it will affect your children.
Maintaining our world treaties, thus stability for your child's future.
Women's health--how the wrong choice will jeopardize
Your sisters' and your daughters' and your fellow women's lives.
Please use your feminine intuition in making this most important choice!

I speak as a humble man.

Our Diastemas opus 387

When I mention to most people, asking what a diastema is,
The majority do not know--even if they exhibit one!
Of course, it is the space between front upper and/or lower incisors.
I lived with a diastema most of my life,
Until I needed to have partials (deciding that implants were too expensive).
As they were molded, I failed to mention I had a--now non-existent--diastema.
As a result the teeth in my upper jaw are all shifted to the left!
I am beyond vanity at nearly 83, and find it just one more fun talking point.

Having had this condition, I always noticed, especially in black Americans,
That many singers, speakers, politicians who sported a diastema.
My wondering came to an end, after a bit of research.
First, it is an African trait, whites exhibiting one because we are
all basically African!
In Africa (eg Ghana and Nigeria) with European prejudice,
Africans there were not valuing nor enjoying their diastemas,
But with independence, the whole concept flipped into a positive trend.
Today, 95 percent in Africa find MMD's (Maxillary Midline Diastemas)
very beautiful.
Moreover, 95 percent of the diastemaless population wish and actually
want to create one!
Genetically, developmental causes affect as many as 36 percent of black people,
While affecting as few as 3.5 percent in the caucasian population.
We in this country and possibly in Europe
Do not even think about a diastema and its influence on attractiveness,
But now-a-days in Africa and perhaps those in the western world,
Black people are very aware of the little space between their teeth!

A Greeting for my Eye Doctor opus 391

Ah, I have crawled over the ridge,
Seeking a life-giving watery oasis,
Ending my pain of thirst--

Now you enter into my presence
To relieve the pain of rogue lashes
Agonizingly plaguing the globe of my eye,
Lying beneath my bony supraorbital ridge.

When All Have Departed opus 424

All have departed from my 83rd party.
It is gently and deadly quiet--
So much so that my tinnitus
Is suddenly dominating my auditory spectrum.

An Unexpected Roll! opus 439

A few days ago I had just rolled in; back to the farm
With a new implement tucked in the back of my old Honda.
Stepped out for a second to make a check--motor still running.
I turned, realizing that somehow the vehicle was slowly rolling forward!
Attempted at 83 years to jump back into the front seat to hit the brake.
Too old, too slow; holding on, attempting to reach the brake;
Partly dragged; stretching my arm towards the brake!
It just isn't going to work--I must let go, still being dragged.
Some pain and weight on my right calf.
Lying on the gravelled drive, I see my leg--
Almost a foot split open, parallel to the bone--
Nothing broken, just butchered!
Assessing--not much pain (shock?) and little blood.
Organized things for my departure to drive to Emergency.
Now, ready to go with a towel-wrapped leg.

Wheeled into the ER, greeted and ready to be sewn up!
Considering the circumstances, it was a pleasant time--
The worse, being the many numbing jabs in preparation.
All turned out well and I was able to return home
At 10 PM on my own steam.

The one outstanding question I do remember from the many--
"How did you get here?"  "I drove myself."
"YOU DID WHAT?"

Sports - To Be or Not To Be opus 441

I am no great follower of sports.
I see them on the one hand
As a human diversion, watching grown people,
Usually making several million dollars,
While batting a ball from place to place;
Often, in some sports,
To pound the opponent almost to death
And, as we well know,
Delayed death has also sometimes occurred.

On the other hand, the excitement and surge of adrenalin,
May divert the aggression of some people
Which might well avert physical harm on fellow humans--
Although it is well known that spousal abuse
Occasionally occurs following a lost football game.

Whatever might be the correct hypothesis,
Sports are here to stay, making millions for some
And filling some obvious human need,
The huge support manifested by the crowds.

My Outer Body--A Petri Dish for Cancer opus 465

When I was young, eight decades ago,
Parents simply sent their children out in the sun--
No prep, no concerns, no worries of future consequences.
Most likely today, I suffer from the sun's delayed anger--
Freezing with liquid nitrogen, multiple biopsies,
And surgeries therefrom;
Slow healings being observed to monitor progress,
Combined with concerns of what was next.
Such is much of my last tier of life.

As a result of this torment of lighter skin--
An evolutionary result of necessary vitamin D,
Homo sapiens having migrated, darker skinned, out of Africa--
The trade off was between darker skin and needed vitamin D.

Today, in a park or on the street, meeting blond, hatless children,
I gently remind their parents of the great need for a hat and sunscreen,
So these innocent ones do not go through my plight.
To emphasize the point, I remove my hat, lean over,
And display the bald spot on my crown, formed from serious surgery.
I replace my hat, state I do such because I care for them
And move on under our life-giving sun to my next episode.

A Health Nut, Falling? opus 469

So, we are soon, to perhaps again, have a Kennedy in government,
Chosen to lead the US Department of Health and Human Services,
But so different from his family history. His concept of medicine is bizarre.
An opponent of vaccines, wrongly accusing them of unhealth.
In the past, Benjamin Franklin lost a beloved son,
When he decided not to innoculate the boy for smallpox.
He lamented that decision for the rest of his life.

How many will needlessly die, following this intended appointment folly?
After many deaths, will humanity once again right itself?
Why are we, admittedly a restless species, so ready
To be so dismissive of our moderately sane medical legacy?

A Last Stage opus 517

Two days into a five-day rain spree.
No rain for all of January--a dry time.
But now all has suddenly changed--
Dark skies, cold wind, and a leaky ceiling to boot!
My days now--especially these presently are so different
From my past, busy and very productive life.
Sometimes it is hard to fill my hours,
But of course that is not really true;
I tend to my Betta fish, and feed lizards,
Check email, finish the mail returns, and have a bite;
Organize farm duties with Jessie, my 'man',
Then write what is in my head--
Juxtaposed with needed calls to help save my planet.
Evening comes and I can't bother anyone--too late for a call.
Such a different life from what I formerly had--
Farming, markets, fishing (with seines), flower harvest,
Educational boat cruises, and walks at Quail Ridge,
Constant fundraising, and creating an ever-new brochure.
How many more things, I might be able to recount.
My mind spins as I were at 40, but my body slows.
It is a dilemma I must absolutely get through,
But it is uncomfortable to be at all impaired.
I must make the best of things and do the best
That my weakening body allows.
I must stay in good spirits, not to turn off
My younger interactees.
I am full of life, but know that the end is slowly pending.

Overcoming the Impossible opus 528

I had a terrible fish allergy when I was young.
I rolled on the floor, gasping for breath, and no one understood why.
Ahh, finally it was figured out that I had a severe fish allergy.
I went weekly to Dr. Clifford to have weekly injections
And then bits of fish, from those I had caught in our local Crystal Lake.
It didn't work, so months of immunization went down the tubes.
At camp I washed dishes to earn a scholarship;
Fridays were lethal when I wiped the sweat off my head,
And the fish oil in the sink's sudzy water would get into my mouth.
I persevered, hating this allergy, trying tastes of fish defiantly.
Finally at 50 years, my biology changed and I could taste fish carefully.
One day I went into a fish market and asked how this and that tasted.
The fishmonger was perplexed, until I explained about my past allergy.
At last I was free. I had persevered and had beat my biology.
Last night I cooked up a lovely piece of flavored Cod.
In past times, that would have been like Socrates imbibing the hemlock.
My biology did help, but my insistence got me over the goal.
Perhaps that is why the 'impossible' projects I have tackled,
Many times were successful, because I had learned not to give up.

Bundles of Flowers opus 543

An afternoon at the dentist's office.
Had promised four bundles of my narcissus or daffodils
To the lovely ladies at reception and at the 'chair'--
Liz, Chantobel, Olivia, and the top dog, Dr Dominessey.
But what now? A Monica had slipped in, so now five.
Led into the 'chair', tooth drilled, interesting chat.
Had no time to bundle from my bucket,
Until in the aftermath and the bill paid.
In the lobby, I commenced bundling--not four, now five.
Then a patient came by--a sweet older eastern Indian.
She admired the flowers--
Probably originally came from her part of the world.
So now it was six--I had just enough.
Usha--meaning 'sunset' received a spontaneous bundle--
So, still, I had enough for five more (like the loaves and fishes).
I walked out six bundles fewer, but a heart full of multiple bundles!

Chlorinated Chickens! opus 564

Did you know that butchered US chickens are bathed in a chlorine solution?
This procedure is done to hygienically cleanse the bodies of possible Salmonella.
The EU and Britain have conducted surveys and found 80% reject such US chickens.
Concerning food poisoning, statistics show it is seven times more likely
To get ill from food in the US than in the UK.
The European agricultural centers emphasize that disinfecting poultry
Is a way, chemically, to mask food safety in the US.
Basically, Europe relies on 'pre-harvesting' interventions with living animals,
Including vaccination and various types of feed additives,
While the US focuses on chemicals and other methods
To eliminate pathogens once the animal has been slaughtered.
Such different approaches, preparing one of our most popular and common foods!

A Dream to Freedom! opus 571

I am an aging man of nearly 84 now and for the last two years,
With a right hip replacement which was 'mis-mounted'--turned a few degrees inward--
As well as slowly wearing out from labor and fatigue,
I walk now slowly and carefully so as not to fall.
Last night I had an interesting dream, which I demanded my mind to remember.
I met a couple of 'guys' with whom I began running.
I remember being very swift and mostly in the lead,
As I had been most of the time before 80.
The soil was reddish. There were many pines. We followed old trails,
But often we had to maneuver alongside bulldozer paths.
It was back and forth between the two pathway types.
At one point, the trail led us under a highway overpass--
I remember the several round cement posts supporting the roadway.
As I woke up, images began to become jumbled.
I believe, in the dream, it was getting dark, and I personally wondered
How we would find our way 'back' in the dark night.
At that point, I fully woke and, being so intrigued with the dream,
I made myself be able to recall, even in the new wakeful state.
I have often managed to recollect many details in my dreams,
By training my mind to repeat details in sequential depth.
Of course, my mind was rebelling, using my swift dream-race,
To contrast with my now slow plodding which I must endure--
Merely moving from one spot to another.
Even though it was a dream, I woke, feeling refreshed and fully mobile!

Heaven And Earth opus 572

With the pope's serious illness,
It is perplexing to observe and contemplate
Terrestrial, empirical medical procedure,
Mingled with heavenly outreach-supplications.

To Coal or not to Coal? opus 576

Coal mining is a dirty, dangerous business.
Many leaders have attempted to shift to other safer energy sources.
Now, the new returning US leadership, to maintain certain votes,
Wishes, once again, increased coal production and use--
BUT, at the same moment, this 'new enlightened' leadership
Has ironically disbanded all research and medical testing,
For those workers who continue to harvest this killer product!

To See or To Hear; And Then There is Walking opus 579

Many millennia ago humans evolved to be upright,
Changing the whole orientation of the body;
Thus creating a new dimension and meaning of the verb 'to walk'.
My whole life has been one of walking--
Moving quickly from room to room, or from farm field to field.
My childhood continually involved exploring places by foot.
All my field work for the doctorate included miles of walking,
Checking and attending trap lines,
While studying Microtus pennsylvanicus (voles!).

As a youngster, I pondered many hypotheticals--
Losing my eyesight vs my hearing often came across my mind.
I even considered at one point, learning Braille and working with the blind.
Now that I am almost 84, something else has come to the fore;
Namely, my ability to walk, as I always have--quickly and efficiently.
After a hip replacement, 'installed' slightly 'inwardly',
And the aging factor of just plain slowly wearing out,
I now walk with some difficulty, always observing for possible obstacles.
Falling is now foremost in my thoughts--
Continually attempting to avoid any cryptic catastrophe;
There is also some minor pain, adding to the mix.
So, so much for pondering on 'whether sight or whether sound'.
Life plays tricks on one and, that which seemed paramount,
Turns onto another unconsidered malady!

Adumbrations of Death opus 593

At the age of nearly 84, it is inevitable, my sensing the nearing of death.
On the longest day of the year, and doing farm chores myself,
I broke the work session into two,
Resting in between the feeding and the overseeing.
(Jessie, my man, was away on his wedding anniversary.)
I was, as usual, slow in my walk and efforts.
At about four, I sat and went through mail,
Enjoying the outside breeze and afternoon diminishing temperatures.
I felt then, I should lie down to rest for a moment,
As my chest felt light and I pondered what was to pass.
I wondered whether or not this might truly be near my extinguishment.
There was no pain, just that feeling of lightness.
I had no fear nor panic; just a soft feeling of possible finality.
I slowly arose from bed and poured a cup of Sake,
Returned to my restful repose, and felt more normal.
I guess I shall survive this wonderment towards the ultimate end.
Well, perhaps this was merely a rehearsal of what it might be like.
I have never panicked concerning my possible death,
This being a gentle preamble to that which is inevitably on its way.

The Weight of Two X Chromosomes opus 605

Could there truly be a benevolent, all-knowing deity creator?
Just compare the relative ease with which men (X/Y) 'sail' through life,
While women (X/X), the absolute necessity for the continuation of human life,
Must go through such relative torment to be bearers of that life.
Large breasts--unlike any other ape-- are permanently formed--
A possible platform for cancer.
Then menstruation, continually forming 'ripe' eggs
(But inconveniently in between the bleeding periods),
Until one is finally nabbed by a sperm to create an offspring.
Birth, often very difficult or deadly,--
And then several years of producing milk to feed such offspring--
Sometimes too much with accompanying pain and other times, paucity.
Then the female is discarded from reproductive abilities,
Through the process of menopause--far sooner in life than her male counterpart.
What makes this all happen,
Is that women are endowed with a longing for an offspring--a child.
And thus, such longing, masks the clear thinking,
Concerning all the trials she must go through (sometimes alone),
Allowing human kind to reproduce and multiply for the benefit of the species.

Grooming May Be the Undoing of Vampire Bats opus 606

Vampire Bats drink blood of course, but they also spread rabies.
A campaign was launched to eradicate these bats
Near areas where cattle abounded and were affected.
Utilizing the knowledge that Vampires groom themselves and each other,
Poisons were used to smear on the hair of captured bats,
Which would return to their colonies to groom and spread the poisons.
Killing the bats was working, except for the fact
That as the colony declined, the remaining bats dispersed,
Spreading the rabies elsewhere. Not good.
Then a vaccine for rabies was substituted
Thus, not affecting the bats, except to inoculate them to be rabies-free.
It was not the taste of the 'potion', but rather the intense behavior
Of the bats to get rid of this terrible stuff off their backs and pass it on!

Recognition of the Skewed Nose opus 609

Being a biologist, I often look at the morphology of humans,
As well as that of fellow creatures.
I am fascinated, for instance, as to how a female newscaster might be chosen--
Certainly the ability to speak and relate the news,
But also, assuredly, from an attractive appearance.
I have a little game, 'nosing in' on the orientation of the other's 'nose-appearance'.
I often see a very attractive newscaster with a quite offset nose position.
Is such a morphology simply overlooked or not even contemplated upon?
For me, this might be one of the important criteria to contemplate.
There are many causes of nose orientation--I am considering those of minor causes.
The type of crooked nose or deviated septum occurs when the septum leans to one side.
About 80% of humans have some degree of deviated septum!
Causes might be with issues of the bones, cartilage, or other tissues in the nose.
In addition, causes might also be from birth irregularities, injury, or results from surgery.
But, most often, a crooked nose is the result of a deviated septum.
By homing in on this feature, I can actually contemplate
One more interesting feature of the human aspect.

Challenges for a Professional Female Pilot opus 615

As you may have read in my previous writing,
I learned to meet the challenges of flying as a young pilot.
I realized there were many difficult tasks to learn.
I did not become a professional commercial pilot
And had never thought about the additional challenges,
If I were a female, seeking to become a professional pilot.
Besides having to wear a man's shirt and tie in my uniform,
I would have to work, and still have proper leave for childbirth,
And beyond that, just how would the health regulations
Deal with the vagaries of menopause?
Women today are dealing with these female-related challenges,
As they enter, as women, into yet another very man-oriented profession.

The Tattooer opus 624

Might you comprehend the life of a tattooer?
Well, heesh must be, obviously, an artist,
With an ever steady hand and a flawless eye.
As the needle passes over the flesh,
There are few chances to correct any flaw.
But, beyond the challenges of art,
A tattooer must always bend over hiser work.
The strain of such continual posture,
Slowly challenges proper posture
Along with the strain on the back.
Beware and take heed tattooers,
And know that the cryptic challenge
Is waiting to diminish your productivity.

Benjamin Franklin's Family Bout with Smallpox opus 645

I am relating this from a long-line of memory.
A British wife-nurse of a diplomat in Turkey,
Gained access to a harem and conversed with the women.
She learned how women combated smallpox
By inoculating in a gash in the arm, smallpox pus from a diseased person.
This was a primitive manner of vaccination (variolation).
Eighty percent of those participating survived.
Back in England she introduced this brutal, but effective preventative.
British doctors began to accept this idea--even though she was a woman.
But accepting this idea, initially, resulted in most doctors rejecting the method.

Benjamin Franklin in America was confronted with this 'cure' for his two boys.
He waited to inoculate his four-year-old, Francis Folger, being 'under the weather'.
Francis died on 21 November 1736 and this was greatly lamented by his father.
In Franklin's time 20 percent died--the remaining lived and survived!
The odds today are greatly better (90 percent), yet we have doubters.
How long will it take for us, once again, 
To truly learn the basics of medicine, without politics?

The Six Ring Benzine Menace opus 647

The US intake of sugar is directly proportional to temperature.
When temperature rises, sugar intake increases.
Most of this sugar intake is through soft drinks.
By the end of the century, it is estimated that yearly 
Per capita intake will be at least a one pound increase.
Soft drink companies now calculate production
By following temperature rise from weather predictions.
Climate change is already causing
The deterioration of human health vis a vis sugar.
Will obesity start culling the very numbers of the human population?
The driving of our gas guzzlers may in the end be our absolute end.

One Ear and the Other opus 694

There once was a little boy in Switzerland, near Zurich.
If it had been three generations ago, that could have been me;
But it wasn't.  But it could have been.
Anyway, he was an active child,
With only one major flaw;  he didn't listen;
Didn't listen to parents, for instance,
When instructing this or that-- 
You know, the day's agenda, or duties, like 'clean up your room'.

The boy had minor ear problems;
Like too much earwax, which had little to do with not listening;
Or maybe it did.  No one really made any connection.
At any rate, the problem got acute enough
That he and his mother had an appointment with the ear doctor.
After some looking and probing,
The doctor said, "We will flush the ear for excess wax."
He gave the boy a bowl to hold under his bad ear
To catch the flushing water with the wax.
The boy began holding the bowl just under his ear.
Suddenly, without warning, he switched the bowl from one ear to the other,
As the doctor was mumbling further instructions.
The doctor asked, a little annoyed, "Why did you do that?"
The child answered, a little surprised,
"Well, you were instructing me to do things,
And mother told me to pay attention all the time."
She always says, "With you, 'Everything goes in one ear and out the other,' "
"I was trying to pay attention to you and to catch anything you might say.
I didn't want it to go in one ear and out the other--and be lost!"

(As told to me by Marianne, from Switzerland.)

Our Coevolution with the Cat opus 703

Those in the Fertile Crescent perfected agriculture--
Organizing fields with seed saved from the previous year.
Random wandering to discover those tiny seed-gems
Became obsolete as a manner of food gathering.
Success of harvesting increased to a point
Where huge numbers of grain were amassed.
Methods of storage for the pending year challenged populations-- 
Those tiny rodents soon discovered that 'grain mine',
Slowly gnawing away at the food supply of the human suppliers.
Also arriving on the scene were wild cats,
Relishing the concentrated supply of those tiny mammals.
The humans realized the value of cat-presence,
Naturally combating and aiding in the control of those little munchers.
Soon, especially in Egypt, cats rose to the level of the sacred.
They were mummified and slipped into the sarcophagi of their owners.
Now, cats roam in many places uncontrolled,
Just like Rock Doves, which switched from cliffs to tall buildings. 
These days, human activities somewhat affect 
Most all other creatures' ways of life,
Except for bacteria, and more, viruses, which still hold power over us.
We cannot yet mold them genetically into the form we wish,
Except for ever-continued research, which medically wards them off!

Christmas, 2025 opus 716

The Eve gently shifts to that Day.
I am awake changing my pads.
My body diurnally leaks--
It shall continue until I die.

My mind floats to the events and thoughts
Of just today--now yesterday:

A photo of us three children,
So long ago, tucked by the tree.

Elaine's text of her partner's cancer.

Waiting for even a quick call from grandson, Jayden.

Pleased to have conversed today with son, Pierre;
Pondering the section of my living room ceiling,
Which tumbled down during the last rain.

Wondering how my calf is doing in this storm.

Observing my Bettas, gulping air each three minutes.

Enjoying the Mozart Piano Concerto, K 502, now on.

Wondering when I will be tired, so to sleep.

So tormented about politics these days.

So sad about some relationships, not gone well.
Joyful in those that have, indeed, succeeded.

Listening to my furnace monitoring its temperature level.
I try to use as little propane as possible.

Sipping my water drink, touched with Anise.

Thinking of this 'Thought' I am composing.

Viewing the Libyan Desert Glass on my table,
Alongside the jar of New England Sea Glass.

Still wondering when I will be tired enough to sleep.

Oh, perhaps now--My thoughts transformed to Dreams.

The Frightening New Adolescent Brain opus 721

The human brain silently rewires itself 
At ages 9, 32, 66, and 83, as seen from MRI data.
The first stage of early brain development
Is as one would think, the childhood stage, coming first,
And which transitions to the adolescent phase,
Lasting until the age of about 32 (not 20!).
This age shows neural efficiency rising and peaking at 32.
This age also marks the strongest rewiring shift of a lifespan.
The brain, then, does not change steadily over time,
But shifts through distinct eras, 
Which influence learning, vulnerability and resilience.
It is adulthood from 32, (becoming a 'true adult'),
To 66 that is the long period of structural stability.
At 66, early aging starts, with the weakening of white matter.
The changes in 'white matter' (nerve fiber bundles),
Are the communication network.
Late aging occurs at 83, 
When long-distance neural connections weaken.
The startling point here, at least for me is, are we marrying,
Starting our professions, making career decisions and so on,
While we are still in the newly defined adolescent stage?
Does this imply that criminal prosecutions, for instance, must be modified,
To consider the still-maturing brain, later than we suspected at 20?
As this knowledge becomes more commonly understood,
Our society might view criminal punishment in a whole new light--
As well, perhaps, of other implications for our maturing and aging brain.