Jerrold Markowitz: Exploring Kindness and Respect

An accessible collection of poems exploring everyday interactions including boss, bully, friends, and parent. It’s nice to read a local author from George Mason University. Markowitz teaches at Osher Lifelong Learning Institute. The poems are easy to read and to be inspired. Here’s his perspective on “Life”:

Life’s not about perfection nor about rejection
it’s about reflection, introspection,
doing the best we can,
respecting whomever we can,
giving personal support, smiling awhile
crying at times, enjoying the gift of life.

My Legs Gave Out

During my snowboarding lesson yesterday, I fell and almost twisted my right knee. Later into the night I could barely lift up my leg without feeling the sharp pain. I thought I won’t be able to ski today. When I woke up this morning, I still felt the pain, but I determined to hit the slopes to ski with my little Vương.

Today, the boys and I went all the way to the top of the mountain. I wanted to take Vương all around the green slopes. We did fine for a bit and then took the shortcut to the blue slope to get back down to the base. It was a big mistake. Vương got a little scared even though I held on to him the whole time. Skiing on the blue slope with a toddler was quite a challenge, but we made it back down with just one fall.

After lunch, I left Vương with his mom and the rest of us went back to the black slopes. After five days straight on the slopes, I could feel the pain. I was exhausted and my legs gave out. And yet, the pain on my knee has subsided without any painkillers or patches. We managed to do two runs before the lift closed out.

All-day rain is forecast for tomorrow. We might just stay in and rest up before heading back home on Saturday. We’ll see.

Solmaz Sharif: Customs

Sharif’s poems are simple yet beyond my comprehension. I had to read her collection twice to understand some of her works including “Social Skills Training,” “He, Too,” and “Patronage.” I don’t quite understand “Without Which,” in which she uses lots of closing brackets (“]]”). I would love to audit her class if I have the opportunity. Here’s her exchange with an officer in “He, Too”:

Upon my return to the US,
he asks my occupation. Teacher.

What do you teach?
Poetry.

I hate poetry, the officer says,
I only like writing
where you can make an argument.

Anything he asks, I must answer.
This, too, he likes.

I don’t tell him
he will be in a poem
where the argument will be

anti-American.

I place him here, puffy,
pink, ringed in plexi, pleased

with his own wit and spittle.
Saving the argument
I am let in

I am let in until

Snowboarding Lessons

Xuân and I took snowboarding lessons today. We signed up for a whole-day group lesson, but Xuân was the only student in his group and I along with another girl in our group. The instructor took us on the green slope just after 45 minutes on the bunny slope. We fell like crazy.

I got my heel turns down, but still had trouble with my knee turns. Once I get my knee turns down, I can link them together. I need more time to practice before everything would click together. Snowboarding is much more challenging to learn than ski. I haven’t given up yet.

I am hoping I won’t be in so much pain tomorrow so I can ski together with little Vương. Poor kid wanted to ski with me today, but I had to take snowboard lessons and I was wiped out afterward. I’ll make it up to him tomorrow.

Skiing with Vương

On Tuesday, I spent almost the whole day on the slope with Vương. He enjoyed skiing together with me. I still had to hold on to him, but I figured out a way for him to be less dependent on me. I just hold the handle on the harness gently to give him more control of his skis. We were planning on signing him up for lessons, but he was not ready. For now, we just ski and spend time together.

Đạo took my snowboard and gave it a try. He did really well. He joined us on the green slope even though he just started it. It looked like skateboarding helped him with snowboarding. If I can’t learn to snowboard, he can take over my board and boots.

For the last hour before the lift closed, I took Đán and Xuân on the blue and black slopes. We ventured into the black, ungroomed terrains. There were moguls and rocks everywhere. We made our way down and out, but my ski bases were scratched up. I will need to patch them up when I get back home.

First Skiing Week of the Season at Okemo

We arrived in Vermont on Saturday night; therefore, we slept in a bit. We didn’t get to Okemo until 10 am on Sunday. Somehow I thought the World Cup final was scheduled for 2 pm instead of 10 am. I missed the whole game. Oh well, congratulations to Argentina nevertheless.

Okemo was not as crowded as I had expected on a Sunday. The World Cup might be the reason. Đạo, Đán, Xuân and I did two runs on the blue and black slopes. I skied with Vương on the green slopes. He wanted me to hold him instead of using the harness. Đán complained his pair of snowboard boots was too tight. He used mine instead.

On Monday, we didn’t get to the resort until 11 am. I took Vương for a run on the green slope so my wife could practice a bit on the bunny slope. Vương was hungry and wanted to eat. I took him in and made him an instant noodle cup. I did one more run with him before I headed to the blue and black slopes with my older boys.

Đán wouldn’t give up my snowboard boots; therefore, I won’t be able to learn snowboarding this week. I am just going to enjoy skiing for now. I’ll learn how to snowboard when we come back home.

We were having a great time even though we were exhausted by the evening.

Bắp lon

Hôm qua bước vào chợ đắp vào mặt ngay hàng trăm lon bắp chồng chất lên nhau, con nhớ ngay đến mẹ. Cũng vào những tháng ngày vào đông lạnh lẽo, mẹ luộc lon bắp rồi trộn với bơ cho con ăn sáng trước khi cắp sách đến trường. Bắp nóng, ngọt cùng với vị béo, mặn của bơ. Những ký ức lại ùa về.

Sáng nay con tự luộc cho mình một lon và cũng trộn bơ nhưng bắp không được ngọt và bơ cũng không được mặn mà như lúc ấu thơ mẹ nấu cho con. Đưa từng muỗng bắp vào miệng xuýt xoa nhớ đến mẹ vô cùng. Mới đó mà đã gần hai năm trời xa mẹ. Con vẫn không thể nào xoa dịu được nỗi đau chứng kiến những giây phút cuối đời của mẹ. Phải chi con ngăn chặn trước khi con covid gây hại đến mẹ thì giờ này mẹ vẫn ở bên con.

Giờ đây tự trách móc cũng quá muộn rồi. Cuộc đời này có đến rồi cũng sẽ đi. Sớm muộn gì cũng phải biệt ly. Con hiểu và chấp nhận nhưng phải chi mẹ ra đi nhẹ nhàng hơn.

Free At-⁠Home COVID-19 Tests

Every U.S. household is eligible to order 4 free at-home COVID-⁠19 tests. I ordered mine. Get yours.

LV Snowboard

I was about to purchase an LV snowboard for $7,450, but I couldn’t find a pair of LV boots and bindings to complete the package. I had to cancel my order. Darn!

A Spade Is for Piercing the Ground and a Shovel Is for Heaving

Preparations begin now, in the middle of my life—
death was born with me, didn’t expect to change languages,
might not know when it is called. Sometimes English sits on the surface of the skin.

We are water, we are rivers of descent;
gravity is inevitable yet grievable.
Mourn as you like, death is another migration.

Bring the body home and gently lay it down on its back,
bind tightly the hands and feet of the corpse,
do this to keep it from running away like a lonely child-

carry the coat it wore (when it was a person) to the roof-
a flag of surrender, a signal flag to the spirit world, new arrival;
call out the name of the dead three times.

Perfume the bath water-the death of a thousand flowers-
comb the hair and catch what falls,
what was grown from the body must accompany the body.

Manicure the fingernails and toenails,
carefully reserve the nail trimmings,
the hair and nails are to be collected into five pouches for the coffin.

Obtain a spoon made from a willow tree, it is a lightweight hardwood,
not heavy in the mouth-
feed the corpse three spoonfuls of uncooked rice: one thousand, two thousand, three thousand bushels.

Slide metal coins into the mouth-the spirit journey can be costly, the way long-
cloak the body in the death dress of hemp or silk,

envelop the body with a quilted cloth, and bind the body with ropes seven times.

Transport the body on a decorated bier out of the house-for this you need the living-

observe it float heavily toward the gate. Not unlike a boat
the bier is decorated with fierce dragons and phoenixes; colorful dolls guard the dead.

On the way out of the household premises, lower the bier three times-
the dead’s final departure from home is marked with this ritual bowing.

At the grave, the shaman will exorcise evil spirits from the site. Pay the shaman.

Submerge the coffin in the open ground, it has already been emptied, given its duty,
yes, like another mouth, or a box for a smaller box-one by one,
the ground is a wound that heals, that embraces its lost materials.

Sun Yung Shin

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