“If life gives you lemons, make lemonade,”
Is a phrase she has heard many times.
But when life gives her lemons, she cuts them in half,
And squeezes them into her eyes.
Month: June 2019
Have Your Cake, and Eat it
Have your cake in front of you.
No camera phone. Just cake.
No fork, no spoon, no knife to cut,
No drink your thirst to slake.
No design or happy words,
Just frosting, flat and plain.
No chocolate/berry filling,
Just vanilla-y, gluteny grain.
That’s your cake on the table.
Do with it what you will.
Dress it up and grab cutlery?
Chow down till you get your fill?
How hungry are you? How resolved
On civilized deportment?
How valuable are aesthetics
To your pleasure of events?
Does your diet consist of protein
To balance the sugar rush?
Have you eaten your share of vegis
To get vitamins and such?
Do you view life in the long term –
Many meals yet to come?
Or get caught in life’s moments –
With your urges must you run?
And who else is around you?
Might they some hunger share?
Will you call them to your table,
Or pretend they are not there?
This existential questioning
Might curl you in a ball.
Must eating be this stressful?
It’s just cake, after all.
Opposable
C F C
I am an odd one, what can I do?
C F C
You have three joints; I only have two.
C F C
You’re tall and thin, and I’m a stumpy thing.
C F C
I don’t wear ornaments, and you wear rings.
C F C
Just ‘cause I’m different doesn’t mean I’m dumb.
C F C
You are a finger and I am a thumb.
C F C G C
Opposable, opposable. Aren’t we lucky we’re opposable?
Opposable, opposable. Aren’t we lucky we’re opposable?
F C
Sometimes I’m lonely going a different way.
G C
You stick with your friends; I stick out like a …
A
Sore thumb
F C
But we’re a good team; we pick up a lot.
F C
I love what you are, I love what you’re not.
Whoa, Whoa.
If I was broken, you’d be broken, too.
‘Cause there’s so many things we couldn’t do.
Like putting on clothes and opening jars.
Not to mention eating candy bars.
Chorus:
Opposable, opposable. Aren’t we lucky we’re opposable?
Opposable, opposable. Aren’t we lucky we’re opposable?
So raise your hands up high and treat them well!
Put those digits to work and make them tell
The world
That we’re a family with so much to give.
Without each other it’d be hard to live.
And sad.
Whoa, whoa.
So if we think that we’re on different sides,
We need to look down to where we abide.
We’re all connected to the place we stand.
Essential parts of an amazing hand!
Opposable, opposable. Aren’t we lucky we’re opposable?
Opposable, opposable. Aren’t we lucky we’re opposable?
Opposable, opposable. Aren’t we lucky we’re opposable?
Opposable*
I am an odd one. What can I do?
You have three joints; I only have two.
You’re tall and thin, and I’m a stumpy thing.
I don’t wear ornaments, and you wear rings.
Just because I’m different, it doesn’t mean I’m dumb.
You are a finger, and I am a thumb.
And we’re lucky we’re opposable.
Sometimes I’m lonely going a different way.
You stick with your friends, I stick out like a
Sore thumb.
But we’re a good team. We pick up a lot.
I love what you are. I love what you’re not.
We’re lucky we’re opposable.
If I was broken, you’d be broken, too.
Because there are so many things we couldn’t do.
Like putting on clothes, and opening jars –
Not to mention opening eating candy bars!
We’re lucky we’re opposable!
So come on! Let’s treat each other well!
Let’s put these digits to work and make them tell
The world
That we’re a family, with so much to give.
Without each other, it’d be hard to live.
And sad.
So if we think that we’re on different sides,
We need to look down to where we abide.
We’re all connected to the place we stand.
Essential parts of an amazing hand.
And we’re lucky we’re opposable.
*This was originally written as a song, but I have also read it to audiences as a poem.
You’ll find the original under Songs, also called Opposable.
Ways to Tell a Story
I like to tell a story
Thoroughly and true –
Dig in and investigate
The pieces through and through
Or fluff it like a pillow
Snuggle up and rest,
Grab a nearby blanket,
And make myself a nest
Or play with it and dance it,
Kick up its happy heels,
Ride with it on roller skates
And fly above its wheels
Or live it in my daily life,
Be my story’s plot,
Elaborate my character,
Inquire and cast my lot.
Everyone’s a story,
Parts real and parts pretend.
We can’t see all the elements,
Or know how things will end.
However told: dug, fluffed or played
Or something else entire,
We can find in other’s stories,
Themes that will inspire.
So whether yours is whisper soft
Or grab-some-earplugs bold,
Your story is important.
Make sure it’s being told.
June 2019
Posted on June 24, 2019
I’m back from a week of vacationing. This year we stayed in Rockaway Beach, OR, home of the Pronto Pup, which claims to have been the first and original corn dog. It was there where we ate corn dogs and fries and soda, and took pictures of each other riding the corn dog ride (think quarter-fed horsey ride, but replace the horse with a 3.5 foot-long corn dog with 2.5 foot-long stick). A white uniform-wearing employee with matching white food-service hat took pictures of all 9 of us (including Briggs, the dog) in front of the Pronto Pup sign before we went our separate ways – Maki and family driving south, and Mandts plus Mom headed back north.
AND, this morning, for some reason, I wrote three poems about food. Two of them, though probably not complete, are ready enough for public viewing. Please find them under “Poems”: “Have Your Cake and Eat it” and “Lemons”. Enjoy!
Posted on June 6, 2019
This Sunday, the Baha’is of Burien are hosting a Race Unity picnic in Puget Sound Park. I will be in charge of the craft station, which will feature badge/button-making, coloring, and making tissue paper flowers. I will also recite some of my poetry which carries a message of unity in diversity.
I’ll introduce the first poem, “Opposable” with something like the following:
The Baha’i writings tell us that all of humanity must be united.
Baha’u’llah, the founder of the Baha’i Faith, helps us understand how diverse peoples can unite by comparing the world of humanity to the human body. Human beings, no matter how different from each other, are all connected and work toward the same goal, in the same way that all the different parts of the body, no matter how different, are all part of the same organism.
All parts of the body are united not despite their differences, but because of them. Every part of the body has a role to play, and is perfect in its own way.
I would like to recite a poem that helps illustrate this theme of unity in diversity. The title of the poem is “Opposable”
[Please find it under the Poems section above.]
Posted on June 1, 2019 by sydneymandt
I’ve written a poem – “Ways to Tell a Story”. (Please find it in the “Poems” section above.)
I have what I call a “Sesame Street” mentality, in which many of my poems and songs are written. I call it that in part to soften the blow of some people’s reactions. On more than one occasion I have recited to someone one of my original (often freshly written) pieces, which I consider deep and meaningful, and the reaction has been that it’s good for kids. Not that writings for children can’t be deep and meaningful – it’s just not what I was going for.
Now, as a form of self-defense, I often silently put what I write in the category of “for kids”, though I look for the opportunity to move into into some other, more respected category, depending on how it’s received.
I don’t like that I do that, for a few reasons:
- It implies that children’s literature is inferior.
- It implies that what I write is not worthwhile if it’s for children (or simple enough for children to appreciate).
- It hurts my feelings.
I need to keep writing, appreciating what I create, making it the best it can be, no matter who the audience may be – even if that audience is just me.