Thursday, March 1, 2018

Down to the wire with El Compass - Poem: Silence about Scorsese's Film - Photo at Second Home

Sent Stalin, my transplant surgeon, a link about sugar cane workers in his native land of El Salvador who are dying of kronic renal disease. He wrote back and said he took part in a conference there to try and figure out how to help his compadres.

Does the link still work?

Ya know, I rarely think about my one kidney.

Since CC won't be doing our Pursue the Wonderful column, I had to think of a new idea. Luckily the ole brain was still working. BTW, if we call the heart "the ticker" what shall we call the brain?

Hold on, a sec. No good synonyms online.

Luckily my ole Thinker was still operational.


Oh, Marty, I wanted so much to like
your film. What is wrong with me!
Persecution of Catholics has gone
on for millennia. In this film we
find ourselves in long-ago Japan
where Christianity was outlawed.

The priests loved their Jesus
and would not betray him. Clever
ruses - spitting on the Cross -
or burning Catholics to death -
tested them to their core.

The priests desired this!
To show their faith to
other priests, to Buddhists,
to the whole land of Nagasaki,
to the entire world.

I sat up in bed as I watched
and clutched my stomach with
dread. Have pity on me!

Named one of the best films
of the year, it's hard to
realize the entire production
filmed in Taiwan, was made up
to look real, but they were
simply actors strutting like
Mishima across the stage.


Here's my breakfast of Champions. Wheaties, long ago. One time there was a recipe on the box for Wheaties and Ice Cream.

I was shocked my mom let me make it.

Image result for wheaties cereal  Apparently they're still making it.

What's your opinion of this?

Image result for wheaties cereal  This is one unhealthy breakfast, except for the banana. You know the chocolate milk is loaded with preservatives.

As I mentioned to Rem in an email, today is Chopin's birthday. Shall we play his FUNeral march?

Gonna have to write a poem about him.

Oh no! Just remembered I must get bios of all my poets for the Kaleidoscope.

Hold on. Lemme have a sip of my dreadful coffee, fortified with Taster's Choice. Actually, it's not so bad.


In memory of Frederic Chopin


For one so young and so talented
he was quite the love of all the
young women, George Sand
most of all.

George, of course, who preferred
pants, was in reality a girl. They
brought one another nothing
but trouble.

So deep ran the emotions
in his work. Bliss is fine,
but it's the sorrows, the
disappointments, the
anger that makes his
music swing even today.

Image result for chopin

Ken, who sat at our table at Adult Daycare, took these tiny Polaroid photos.

I was shocked that Polaroid is still in business.

Am sitting with Jan and Ray.

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