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September 30, 2004



Every time since the mention of your mother's treatment of your use of "writes real good", I can't help but picture you snickering as you write it whilst your mother chases you round ready to smack your knuckles with a ruler.

I chuckle loudly at this. I thought you should know. ;)


My family came to California from Spain the mid-1800s, married locals (eventually to be called American Indians and Mexicans) and never left. I was raised with an innate love for this state. My family farmed it, raised livestock on it, built homes on it and are either buried in its earth or scattered off its shores. I have a bookshelf that is dedicated to Californian authors and one of my all time favorite vacations is a road trip on Highway 1 complete with a stack of books. I always, always stop in Carmel to read Jeffers on the beach…

Meanwhile the image of the pristine beauty
Lives in the very grain of the granite,
Safe as the endless ocean that climbs our cliff.-As for us:
We must uncenter our minds from ourselves;
We must unhumanize our views a little, and become confident
As the rock and ocean that we were made from.

Just gives me goose bumps.


I knew I liked you, blackcoffee.

Brandon, you're right. I do like that little playfulness with "good".


Great poem. I don't go in much for poetry, and Robinson Jeffer's worldview is one that I feel as though I've outgrown, but I still maintain an affection for his poetry.

Jeff JP

Hey Hugo,

Thanks for posting this poem.

It's not a conventionally Christian world view, that.

Interesting. You know, if we look carefully at Jesus, we can see that He doesn't hold "a conventionally Christian world view" either.

World views and ideologies scare me. It's too easy to get caught up in dogma.



Hah! You're right, Jeff...

BTW, "unhumanize our views" doesn't mean "dehumanize our views" -- there's a subtle but crucial distinction.

La Lubu

This is a gorgeous poem.

Several years ago, I was working on a job in the St. Louis jurisdiction (Local 1, the Mother Local; I liked the way brothers and sisters there would tell 'travelers' like me, to "come home to Mother"). I couldn't wait for the job to start because of the after-hours mountain biking opportunities nearby! I told one of my fellow-biking tool buddies to bring his bike and I'd take him across the river to ride some of the trails I rode on as a kid (before there were such a thing as fancy mountain bikes!).

I could have cried. There were no trails. None--none! were left. All the woods had been torn down. Paved over. Creeks were filled in. You would never have known there once were beautiful rolling trails through woods and prairie....that pheasants and quail would run at the sound of kids and our bikes...

I was depressed. We ended up riding the sanitized trail from SIU-E into town....it was no substitute.

Thanks for posting this; I'll think of it now at those "damn civilization!" moments.

Oh--and "tool-buddy" is construction parlance for co-worker; if you don't dig your co-worker (or you want to tease him or her) you say "tool-opponent".

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