DnZ's Place

STORY (2) He was carrying the shiny new silver attaché case he had received as a birthday gift the Sunday before. Gabi had picked it out as the, “perfect gift for someone in a hurry.” Oh yes, she had noticed it too. “Piper”, she said, “can’t you slow down for just a moment?” Piper screeched to a halt, let out a deep sigh, and looked her straight in the eye: “Slow down? Slow down? Why you might as well ask the sun to ssslllooowww down as it travels in the sky.” Gabi, always the deep thinker, blurted “Aha! Well there you have it. The Sun does not travel in the sky. In fact, it does not move at all. It is the earth that moves around the sun.” She felt real proud of her scientific insight. Piper turned beet red, as two perfectly oval drops of sweat rolled down his forehead. Letting out another sigh –only this time a longer one—he quipped, “The sun doesn’t travel? The sun doesn’t? The sun…. Rats! Gabi! Whatever!

The beginning... There is something about Piper. Piper is always in a hurry. It does not matter if it is during the morning, or during the afternoon. It does not matter if it is during the week, or on the weekend. It does not matter if it is in the summer, fall, winter or spring. It just does not matter, because when it comes to Piper, he is always in a hurry. On that Wednesday afternoon Piper, in a hurry as usual, stepped into the “Paper and Ink”. The “Paper and Ink” is a tiny, out-of-the-way bookstore on the corner of Sweeney and Griffin streets. Tiny might be an understatement–it is probably only about 14 feet wide by 30 feet long; that, for a bookstore is miniscule! But, as small as it is, there is no place he likes to visit more. He parks himself next to a stack of dusty old National Geographic magazines going back to the 40s. Or thumbs through mismatched volumes of the Britannica. Books hold such fascination for him that the hours swim by with him immersed in countless adventures...

I am a human I pretend time can be slowed I feel good in the warmth of the Sun I touch the Earth and it feels stable I worry about the planet I cry when I think of the horseshoe crab: if it leaves us, it will never come back I am a human I am an American I wonder about my country's future I hear the music of its people I see the beauty of its land I want us to live "long and prosper" I am an American I am a man I understand myself I say I will be OK! I dream in color I try to grow I hope for peace I am a man

I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter's dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh Had sought their household fires. The land's sharp features seemed to be The Century's corpse outleant, His crypt the cloudy canopy, The wind his death-lament. The ancient pulse of germ and birth Was shrunken hard and dry, And every spirit upon earth Seemed fervourless as I. At once a voice arose among The bleak twigs overhead In a full-hearted evensong Of joy illimited; An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, In blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul Upon the growing gloom. So little cause for carolings Of such ecstatic sound Was written on terrestrial things Afar or nigh around, That I could think there trembled through His happy good-night air Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew And I was unaware. by Thomas Hardy

Is love a fancy, or a feeling? No. It is immortal as immaculate Truth, 'Tis not a blossom shed as soon as youth, Drops from the stem of life--for it will grow, In barren regions, where no waters flow, Nor rays of promise cheats the pensive gloom. A darkling fire, faint hovering o'er a tomb, That but itself and darkness nought doth show, It is my love's being yet it cannot die, Nor will it change, though all be changed beside; Though fairest beauty be no longer fair, Though vows be false, and faith itself deny, Though sharp enjoyment be a suicide, And hope a spectre in a ruin bare. Hartley Coleridge