Who Does not Prefer Peace?
Written on 12/28 at 05:54 PM by Andy Posner
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Musings
poetry
As fighting flares in the land of monotheism, soldiers mass along the border between two nuclear states, extremism rages in the cradle of civilization, the stuff of life threatens to overheat the planet that sustains life and a superpower continues down its blind path of bombs, I pause to ask a simple question: who among us does not prefer peace? In truth, the answer is very, very few of us, but that extreme minority is responsible for fanning the flames that bring nations to war and destabilize the world. We cannot continue to allow that. It is time for the so-called “silent majoriy” to speak up against unspeakable acts, to leap forth with ideas, protests, actions that will prevent more madness. After all, when the dust settles there is still a gem of an orb rotating a mass of energy that provides so much life with sustenance. The great work of understanding the universe and creating a more just, equitable home for all is held back by weaponry, the people that employ them, and worst of all, the money that finances them. We live in an age willing to enrich itself by tearing others down, where the mindless pursuit of more comfort obscures the suffering of billions of people so deprived as to be unable to feed or clothe themselves. We know enough to understand the irrevocable connection between an injustice in one place and an action in another, yet we have yet to summon the courage to act on that knowledge. Who among us is willing to avoid making money on an investment that is legal, but unjust? Who among us is willing to forego still more luxury to enable that another may enjoy a meal, an opportunity, a life?
This New Year, let us commit to a shared responsibility. Let us recognize that if little girls in Afghanistan die while in school, then little girls in America will inherit a world that has lost their beauty, their ideas, their hope. Let us recognize that where we can we must act and where we cannot we must seek ideas, pressure others, and demand an end to injustice wherever it transpires. The global economic crisis is yet another sign of the way in which a few selfish people--Wall St. bankers, lax regulators--can cause untold suffering. But every day the decisions we make have repercussions around the world, like the proverbial butterfly flapping its wings that creates a ripple of air that leads to a hurricane. We cannot bury our heads in the sand and pretend this is not the case. Let that be our New Year’s resolution.
Read on for a poem I wrote on this matter during the run up to the war in Iraq.
Love For the World
Written on 12/24 at 11:15 PM by Andy Posner 0 comments
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Musings
Prose
Here in Los Angeles, where I am visiting my family, a steady rain is falling on the landscape of my childhood. When I was little, and adulthood was as distant a concept as the stars obscured by the rain I adore so much, I would press my face against the windows of my home and watch water fall from the sky, watch how the branches and the leaves and the creatures of the world would crane their necks to receive succor from the upper atmosphere. In those moments my love affair with the world began. I longed to caress the breezes, to embrace the play of light and shadow, to dissolve in the mists that rainy days would bring to me.
It’s Snowing in Providence!
Written on 12/07 at 03:33 PM by Andy Posner 0 comments
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Musings
Last night the first flakes of snow fell on Providence. When I awoke, the ground had been lightly covered by the white dust of snow, and everything from trees to cars to rooftops carried the brightness of sunlight stored in ice. Due to Providence’s proximity to the water, we don’t get much snow here, and given that I grew up in the semi-arid climate of Los Angeles, I get very excited whenever meteorology conspires to bring these beautiful conditions to my backyard. Granted, the novelty of snow wears off fairly quickly, as the purity soon turns to slush and muck, but I refuse to believe that idealism and perfectionism inherent to youth must inevitably give way to cynicism and doubt. I feel very strongly that the entire cycle of beauty and passion are to be appreciated and celebrated--from the initial first rush, to the inevitable slush, to the crackle and decay of wood and leaves. I wrote a poem dealing with this very issue last year. The poem, titled ”The First Snow,” expresses my firm belief that ideals--purity, idealism, beauty--are not the problem, rather, the problem is with people who are unable to do those ideals justice. Read on for more musings and photos of the snow!
The Gardener
Written on 12/02 at 07:42 PM by Andy Posner 0 comments
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poetry
The Gardener
We have pitched a simple man against the
Thousand blades of grass.
Once a week the battle is waged;
Each green sword glints with dew.
But our man is well armed; we have given
Him motors, gasoline, blades faster
Than the wind, and so he goes trampling
because our yard needs taming.
He leaves the lawn strewn with
Green bodies--their scent reaches up
To my poet’s nose.
For the moment victory smells like sprinklers
And empty fields.
For the moment our house is in order.
Then the grass regroups, sends out reinforcements--
Now the mothers are lamenting for their children;
They are fighting for their existence, for their land,
And they will not be vanquished.
A week passes and the proud grass
Waves beneath its wind.
The grass has a human spirit that
Grows endlessly, sprouts from the soil,
And wonders why we bother to hire
Mercenaries to fight a battle
That can never have an end.
My 24th Birthday
Written on 11/16 at 10:41 PM by Andy Posner 1 comments
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travel
Last Friday, November 14th, I turned 24 years old. It’s hard to believe that another year has passed, another number tacked on to my age. This year my mom came out to visit from LA, and to celebrate we went out with a small group of friends--Mike, Adria, their daughter Siena, Michele, Nora, Marie-Laure and Mark--to an all vegetarian restaurant called the Garden Grille. The food and company were great, and though the festivities were far less ostentatious than last year, the occasion was nonetheless enjoyable. My mom only stayed from Thursday night to Sunday morning, and the time went by fast. Unlike last year (when the temperature was in the 30s) it was surprisingly warm, although rain and fog limited the amount of time we spent outside. More photos after the fold.
Welcome. On this blog things get a little more personal. This is where I chronicle my struggles and triumphs, my attempts to better myself and my world, my poetry, my prose, my bike rides, my travels, my day-to-day activities. If you want to know more about Andy Posner--that amalgamation of poet and monk--you’ve come to the right place. So have a look around, and enjoy the opportunity to learn what goes on inside my mind--only beware, my mind is quite a place!
- David Gortler in My 24th Birthday:
You are really a good writer that I figured out myself by reading your posts.…
- David Gortler in Tonight, the Oneness of Things:
You have certainly an amazing way to write your feeling. I like your writing.…
- T.H. Culhane in Who Does not Prefer Peace?:
Who will read your work? I will.
Who is willing to avoid making…
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