Vague Memories

The space on the page is still warm, although perhaps now only tepid.

It had, once upon a winter’s day, been occupied.  Occupied by a very special calid phrase, one subsequently erased, but the message’s essence remained, remained aware, somewhere in time, if no longer in space.  Indelible, ineradicable, ineffaceable. 

Destiny is not, by its nature, kind.  But perhaps it knows best.

Still, echoes of misplaced emotions resonate and ephemeral rainbows endure, albeit hidden amidst profoundly deep, dark shadows.  And anyway, notwithstanding the past or the present or the future, somewhere, some-when, hummingbirds play with dragonflies while flowers and willow o’ the wisps in season sing of might have beens.

Vague memories strayed far from home.
_______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2023; all rights reserved.  Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.

Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen).  Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales.  He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies).  However, he is also fascinated by mythology, religion, physics, astronomy and mathematics, especially with matters related to quanta and cosmogony.  He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.

Nirvana

Is Nirvana one with the singularity posited by some physicists and mathematicians? 

Or perhaps, striding into metaphysics, is it one with a pre-singularity, one before it attained any mass at all and encompassed only inchoate infinity? 

Or is Nirvana, in another sense, inchoate chaos, where chaos refers to all possibilities existing concurrently?

Thoughts for an afternoon in late February, some-when in inchoate eternity.
_______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2023; all rights reserved.  Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.

Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen).  Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales.  He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies).  However, he is also fascinated by mythology, religion, physics, astronomy and mathematics, especially with matters related to quanta and cosmogony.  He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.

Tempus Fugit

Tempus fugit” is usually translated into English as “time flies” but that’s not quite right, it’s not accurate.  The correct translation is “time flees”, it escapes.  And that is very different.  It focuses not on the speed with which time disappears, but rather, implies that it is escaping from something it fears or dreads, hopefully towards a refuge, albeit one it may not reach or attain. 

A bit of context.  The expression originated with the Latin poet Virgil, he who wrote Rome’s epic, the Aeneid, but also The Georgics, a long poem divided into four books, in which a version of the expression is first found (Book 3, line 284): “fugit inreparabile tempus”, i.e., irretrievable, time escapes.  The subject of The Georgics is agriculture, but not in a placid rural setting, rather, in large part, it focuses on the importance of human labor and puts me in mind of the noble, Colombian campesinos, in essence, a complex expression relating to those who till the fields, whether as small land owning farmers or their employees, but who, unlike serfs or peasants, are imbued with a bit of what a Roman might have described as dignitas, more than mere dignity, more nobly earned.

The poem is both long and complex, and practical.  It deals in detail with matters that are necessary and practical in an agricultural setting, but in the context of the complex realities of the Roman Civil War following the assassination of Gaius Iulius Caesar and the ascension of his grandnephew and heir, Octavian.  In that regard, for some reason, it puts me in mind of Peter Sellers’ cinematic masterpiece, “Being There”, one of my favorite films, and of the nobility of its protagonist, Chauncey, an orphan employed by a wealthy family as their gardener, a man who grows up without any education other than that which he garners by watching television and through working in his employer’s garden.  Once his employer passes away, Chauncey is set adrift in the world with no possessions other than the clothing his employer bequeathed him, and the observations concerning gardening, which he shares with those he meets.  They assume that such observations are metaphors, profound wisdom shared by Chauncey which applies to their own complex problems, and Chauncey is hailed by the most important and powerful as a genius, albeit a very humble genius.  In reality, Chauncey is the essence of innocence possessed of a beautiful naivety which does not know that there exist impossibilities.

Perhaps time flees towards a world in which Chauncey is not the exception but the norm; one in which Yeshua the Nazarene might find comfort, as might we.  Perhaps traces of that concept can be found in the lives and lore of Colombia’s noble campesinos, from whom we Colombians and others can learn so much.

Tempus Fugit”. Perhaps an expression much more meaningful than we understand.
_______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2023; all rights reserved.  Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.

Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen).  Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales.  He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies).  However, he is also fascinated by mythology, religion, physics, astronomy and mathematics, especially with matters related to quanta and cosmogony.  He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.

A Writer’s Early Morning Refrain

A new day breaks, perhaps sunny, or foggy, or perhaps just plain cloudy, or even drizzling, or raining, or storming with winds howling.  But a new day.

Coffee, for many, first thing.  Colombia appreciates the gesture!  Then perhaps breakfast, or maybe just juice, perhaps orange juice, or grapefruit juice, or tomato or V8.  What to choose, what to choose.

Coffee smells great, even if you don’t care for coffee, but if you do, should it be black and bitter, black and sweet, or loaded with cream, or perhaps just milk.  Maybe skimmed milk.  And toast, dry or buttered?  And what about jam?  And eggs?  Scrambled?  Omelet?  Sunny side up or just fried, or what about a raw egg in a glass of orange juice, that’s supposed to be healthy.  On the other hand, what about pancakes?  Or waffles.  What to choose, what to choose.

A blank page but a keyboard full of promises, good promises but pretty bad ones as well.  That’s the nature of the inchoate.  What key to choose, what keys, there are letters and punctuation and numbers and symbols, upper case, lower case, what to choose what to choose.

It used to be a blank page on a typewriter, a real page, not just a virtual facsimile, but then, if you made a mistake, you all too frequently crumbled the page and threw it out with nary a thought for the trees.  That is no longer politically correct, or efficient.  No cut and paste back then, or spell checker, or grammatical suggestions (a poet’s bane).

Anyway, what to write.  Hmmm, let’s see.  Just start with a word, any word, the rest will come.

Maybe.  Hopefully; perhaps it will even be adequate, or even decent, maybe even good, or even great. 

But what if it’s crap and there’s no paper to crumble.

What to choose, what to choose.
_______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2023; all rights reserved.  Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.

Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen).  Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales.  He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies).  However, he is also fascinated by mythology, religion, physics, astronomy and mathematics, especially with matters related to quanta and cosmogony.  He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.

Primordial

Lighting swirls amidst deep, dark shadows, thunder echoing off of silent cliffs somewhere in what will someday be called Cambria. 

Hints of far off cataclysms, dankly diluvial, sail on primordial winds as dusk’s crimson fingers claw at night’s sapphire, diamond flecked cloak.

Albian haze swiftly quickens into mist, threatening to cleave into drops, larger and larger drops, possibly armies of rushing drops, drops plummeting like raiders plundering unsuspecting shores of a world still virginally young, a world yet to yield to the tiny warm blooded invaders who’ll someday evolve into hominids. 

But not just yet. 

Soon though.

Much, much too soon.
_______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2023; all rights reserved.  Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.

Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen).  Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales.  He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies).  However, he is also fascinated by mythology, religion, physics, astronomy and mathematics, especially with matters related to quanta and cosmogony.  He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.

Ferocious Seduction, a senryū of sorts in e minor flat

Theia: Terra’s bride, Luna’s mother,

A passionate meeting, a vicious mating, a climactic birth

shrouded in violence.
 _______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2023; all rights reserved.  Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.

Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen).  Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales.  He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies).  He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.

Poetry

Poetry is hard to define. 

Sometimes, it’s best defined by denying those aspects that most associate with a poem.  Rhyme, meter, strict structure, even alliteration and consonance.  Then again, perhaps the definition of poetry, of what constitutes a poem, is very personal.

To me, the essence of a poem is the creation and sharing of a wave-like sensation that carries both the writer and the reader along an emotive trail, sometimes brief, sometimes expansive, as though one were surfing but on a gently melodious wave floating over a series of profound abysses into which one might chose to wander, lost but questing.  Beauty or horror may be present, but perhaps they can be melded subliminally into something incomprehensibly sublime, perceptible only in a silent and indiscernible language, one only the soul can fully understand.

Then again, there’s rhyme and meter, strict structure, even alliteration and consonance; there’s metaphor and simile; allusion and illusion.  Shades and shadows and echoes and rainbows, hummingbirds and dragonflies and sometimes just dragons, … or maybe frogs.
_______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2023; all rights reserved.  Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.

Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen).  Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales.  He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies).  He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.

Sayonara Baby!

Phineas was in a pithy mood although he didn’t know why.  Fortunately for him he didn’t care why, he was just enjoying it.  Perhaps today would be the day he’d finally write something and, if he did, why he might someday get it published.

Phineas was not the easiest name to bear but he managed it good naturedly, although he wondered just what his parents might have been thinking when they’d endowed him with it.  It wasn’t as if they’d named him after someone for whom they deeply cared, or even knew.  Apparently, it had something to do with a film a long time ago, a film based on a book about a wager concerning travelling around the world more quickly than then seemed possible.  But then, his parents had conceived him in the sixties when decisions were sometimes made based on chemically induced spur of the moment epiphanies, epiphanies thereafter quickly discarded.

It wasn’t as if he was often epigrammatic, he tended to be a bit vague and indirect, lost in phantasies; perhaps a bit like his parents had been way back when, way back in the day so to speak.  Interesting phrase that, “so to speak”.

Anyway, perhaps Phineas had decided to turn over a new leaf, not a vegetable leaf, at least not directly; rather, a metaphorical leaf, so “pithy” was his word of the day.  He dressed nattily for a change.  He usually favored jeans but today, dress pants it was.  And a vest, even though it had once been his father’s.  And a tie, even though it was paisley, and paisley had been out of style for a while, except, of course, among the vintage crowd (of which he was not a member in good standing).  “Hmmm, shoes” he whispered to himself.  A problem as most of his were old tennis shoes or sandals, not a loafer to be had, or an oxford.  And tennis shoes and sandals tended not to qualify as pithy in matters of haberdashery.

Of a sudden, his pithy mood did not seem quite as satisfying as it had, as though a wind had whipped the page he’d sought to turn back to where his book of life had been.  Speaking of pages, he’d need some paper if he was going to write something, or a pen, or a computer, or a tablet, or a cell phone.

“Damned shoes” he thought out loud.  “Who needs them”, although it seemed obvious that they might be a necessary accessory to anyone, who, feeling pithy, had decided to dress nattily, which at that point, no longer described Phineas.  Fortunately for him, his apartment was not large, rather small really, and cluttered with non-natty accoutrements.  And he’d not yet made his bed (almost a tradition).  So back into bed he plopped, back into bed to hopefully dream non-pithy dreams.

Sayonara baby!
_______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2023; all rights reserved.  Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.

Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen).  Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales.  He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies).  He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.

Magic and Miracles, a senryū of sorts in e minor flat

Sooooo, … on the nature of magic and miracles,

Seemingly metaphysical fraternal twins stamped on the same coin,

Albeit perhaps on different sides.

_______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2023; all rights reserved.  Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.

Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen).  Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales.  He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies).  He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.

Of Birds, the Homeless and Me: Something to consider

My quandary with pigeons, with birds really, is that while they are, in some aspects, beautiful, especially in flight; they’re so damned dirty, albeit unavoidably so, at least in urban settings where, from time to time, they seem to weaponize their waste, occasionally against me, albeit more often against my car and most frequently on the tenth floor window sill of my apartment, a space near a tiny garden set in a ledge my wife and I have planted in a nook outside our kitchen window where it abuts another little window at the side of our dining room.  A place where pigeons enjoy nesting and giving birth, and to which they enjoy returning after they’ve hatched.  I wonder if it’s a form of passive aggression, passive aggression like that inherent in so many humans whose lives seem to have been wasted and who find themselves figuratively littering the streets of their more fortunate brethren.  Of people like my wife and I and our friends and acquaintances.

Litter, the weapon of choice of disenfranchised humans and birds alike.

Doesn’t our reaction to them say more about us then it does about them?  Doesn’t it reflect our all too comfortable hypocrisy?  Our inability to accurately reflect introspectively?

Many decades ago, in an amazing oxymoronic piece, oxymoronic because her voice was so beautiful and the theme so dark, Joan Baez planted the seeds for what I write today, she planted those seeds in my soul when I heard her ballad entitled, “Their but for Fortune”.  It helped me become a human being, a human in the positive sense of what we should be rather than what we are.

Something to consider on a beautiful day in a city in the sky, on the central range of the Colombian Andes.  

Something to consider anywhere, … really.
_______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2023; all rights reserved.  Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.

Guillermo (“Bill”) Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia (although he has primarily lived in the United States of America of which he is also a citizen).  Until 2017 he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales.  He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation and linguistic studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies).  He can be contacted at guillermo.calvo.mahe@gmail.com and much of his writing is available through his blog at https://guillermocalvo.com/.