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An erasure poem . . .

1/20/2019

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Chief Justice Roberts, President! Carter, President! Clinton, President! Bush, President! Obama, fellow Americans, and people of the world: thank you.
We the citizens of A
merica, 
are now joined in a great national effort to rebuild our country and to restore its promise for all of our people. Together, we will determine the course of America and the world for years to come. We will face challenges. We will confront hardships. But we will get the job done. Every four years, we gather on these steps to carry out the orderly and peaceful transfer of power and we are grateful to President Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama for their gracious aid throughout this transition. They have been Magnificent. 

Today’s ceremony, however, has Very Special Meaning. Because today we are not merely transferring power from one Administration to another, or from one party to another – but we are transferring power from Washington, D.C. and giving it back to you, the American People. For too long, a small group in our nation’s Capital has reaped the rewards of government while the people have borne the cost. Washington flourished – but the people did not share in its wealth. Politicians prospered – but the jobs left and the factories closed. The establishment protected itself, but not the citizens of our country. Their victories have not been your victories; their triumphs have not been your triumphs; and while they celebrated in our nation’s Capital, there was little to celebrate for struggling families all across our land. That all changes – starting right here, and right now, because this moment is your moment: it belongs to you. It belongs to everyone gathered here today and everyone watching all across America. This is your day. This is your celebration. And this, the United States
of A
merica, is your country. What truly matters is not which party controls our government, but whether our government is controlled by the people.



January 20th 2017, will be remembered as the day the people became the rulers of this nation again. The forgotten men and women of our country will be forgotten
no longer. Everyone 
is listening to you now. You came by the tens of millions to become part of a historic movement the likes of which the world has never seen before. At the center of this movement is a crucial conviction: that a nation exists
to serve its citizens. Americans want Great schools for their children, safe neighborhoods for their families, and good jobs for themselves. These are the just and reasonable demands of a righteous public. But for too many of our citizens,
a different reality exists: Mothers and children trapped in poverty in our inner cities; rusted-out factories scattered like tombstones across the landscape of our nation; an education system, flush with cash but which leaves our young and beautiful students deprived of knowledge; and the crime 
and gangs and drugs that have stolen too many lives and robbed our country of so much unrealized potential. This American carnage stops right here and stops right now. We are one nation – and their pain is our pain. Their dreams are our dreams; and their success will be our success. We share one heart, one home, and one Glorious destiny.


The oath of office I take today is an oath of allegiance to all Americans. For many decades, we’ve enriched foreign industry at the expense of American industry; Subsidized the armies of other countries while allowing for the Very Sad depletion of our military; we’ve defended other nation’s borders while refusing to defend our own; And spent trillions of dollars overseas while America’s infrastructure has fallen into disrepair and decay. We’ve made other countries rich while the wealth strength, and 
confidence of our country has disappeared over the horizon. One by one, the factories shuttered and left our shores, with not even a thought about the millions upon millions of American workers left behind. The wealth of our middle class has been ripped from their homes and then redistributed across the entire world. But that is the past. And now we are looking only to the future. We assembled here today are issuing a new decree to be heard in every city, in every foreign capital and in every hall of power. From this day forward, a new vision will govern our land.

From this moment on, it’s going to be America First.
Every decision on trade,
on t
axes, on immigration, on foreign affairs, will be made to benefit American workers and American families. We must protect our borders, from the ravages of other countries making our products, stealing our companies, and destroying our jobs. Protection will lead to great prosperity and strength. I will fight for you with every breath in my body – andI will never, ever let you down. America will start winning again, winning like never before. We will bring back our jobs. We will bring back our borders. We will bring back our wealth. And we will bring back our dreams. We will build new roads, and highways, and bridges, and airports, and tunnels, and railways all across our Wonderful nation. We will get our people off of welfare and back to work – rebuilding our country with American hands and American labor. We will follow two simple rules. Buy American and Hire American. We will seek friendship and
goodwill with the nations of the world – but we do so with the understanding that it is the right 
of all nations to put their own interests first. we do not seek to
impose our way of life on anyone, but rather to let it shine as 
an example for everyone to follow. We will reinforce old alliances and form new ones – and unite the civilized world against Radical Islamic Terrorism, which we will eradicate completely from the face of the Earth.

At The bedrock of our politics, will be a total allegiance to the United States of America, and through our loyalty to our country, we will rediscover, our loyalty to each other. When you open your heart to patriotism, there is no room for prejudice.
The Bible 
tells us, How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live 
together in unity.” We must speak our minds openly, debate our
disagreements honestly, but always pursue solidarity. When America is united, America is totally unstoppable There should be no fear – we are protected, and we will always be protected. We will be protected by the Great men and women of our military and law enforcement and, Most Importantly, we are protected by God. Finally, we must
think
Big, and dream even Bigger.  In America, we understand that a nation is only living as long as it is striving. we will no longer accept politicians who are all talk and
no action – constantly complaining but never doing anything about it.
The time for
empty talk is over. Now arrives the hour of action. Do not let anyone tell you it cannot be done. No challenge can match the heart and fight and spirit of America. We will not fail. Our country will thrive and prosper again. We stand at the birth of a new millennium, ready to unlock the mysteries of space, to free the Earth from the miseries, of disease, and to harness the energies, industries and technologies of tomorrow. A new national pride will stir our souls, lift our sights, and heal our divisions, It is time to
remember that old wisdom our soldiers will never forget: that whether we are black or brown or white, we all Bleed. the same red blood of patriots, we all enjoy the same Glorious freedoms, and we all Salute the same great American Flag, and whether a child. is born in the urban sprawl of Detroit or the windswept plains of Nebraska, they look up at the same night sky, they fill their heart with the same dreams, and they are infused with the breath of life by the same Almighty Creator.

To to all Americans in every city near and far, small and large, from mountain to mountain, and from ocean to ocean, hear these words: You will never be ignored again.Your voice, your hopes, and your dreams, will define our American destiny. And your courage and goodness and love will forever guide us along the way. Together,

We Will Make A
merica Strong Again.
We Will Make America wealthy Again.
We Will Make America Proud Again.
We Will Make A
merica Safe Again.

And, Yes, Together, We Will Make 
A
merica Great Again. 
Thank you, God Bless You, 
And God bless AMErica.”





                                                                                                                      copyright 2019 Ozzie Nogg
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Day in, day out, breathe in, breathe out . . .

11/19/2017

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Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.

But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. 

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. 


Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. 


With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
 

                                   from Desiderata by Max Hermann (1927)


Our Heroine longs to live in the moment.
She wants to be present and fully aware of the here and now.
She does not want to ruminate in her past.
She does not want to catastrophize her future.

But the very notion of wanting this and not wanting that
slows Our Heroine’s journey toward mindfulness and inner peace.
In hopes of centering herself and finding the path, she returns to her breath. 

         
          In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. 


She breathes and observes her chattering thoughts, her monkey mind. 
          We need milk.
          Why didn’t he call me back?
          Will they notice if I don’t post this week?
 
She breathes and reminds herself,
          Be. Here. Now.

*

Our Heroine sits in the Study House. 
She reads that when Rebecca first saw her future husband,
Isaac,
he was walking and meditating in the fields.

Our Heroine learns that Reb Nachman of Bratzlav frequently spoke to God
while engaged in walking mediation, alone, in nature.
 

          How wonderful it would be if we were worthy of hearing the song of the grass,
Reb Nachman said to the heavens.  
          
Every blade of grass sings a pure song to God, expecting nothing in return. 
          
It is wonderful to hear its song and to worship God in its midst.

Oh, rats, says Our Heroine, snared in the trap of self-evaluation.
I have walked in nature but never have I heard the pure song of the grass.
 

And Andrew Weil tut-tuts,
          Remember that breath walking — as with any meditation technique --
          should not be pursued with a grim determination to get it right.
          The point is to cultivate openness, relaxation and awareness.


Our Heroine places her hands on her heart.
She gently strokes the spot in kindness and self-compassion.
She breathes.


          In. Out. In. Out. 

*
Living in this moment, she sees the red wine spill on the white carpet.
Fully aware, she observes the stain spread.
In this here and now, she acknowledges anger rising like yeast,
but she does not judge the anger.
She does not grasp it or push it away.
She is not the anger.

Our Heroine breathes. 


          In. Out. In. Out. 

She breathes In total forgiveness. 
She holds the breath, pauses in patience. 
She breathes Out stress, tension, sadness, negativity.
 

Mindfully, Our Heroine drops to her knees,
calmly sponges the stain with hydrogen peroxide.
Calmly she blots the stain with paper towels.
She sponges and blots, sponges and blots, breathes


          In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

Our Heroine throws away the wet paper towels. 
She throws away her attachment to a spotless house.
She loosens her grip on wanting things to be the way she wants things to be.
In this detachment, in this moment of letting go, she finds inner peace.
 

          There is no such thing as inner peace, tut-tuts Fran Leibowitz.
          There is only nervousness and death.


          Oh, f**k off, Fran, says Our Heroine.
          I’m practicing positivity here.
 


*

Standing at the kitchen sink,
Our Heroine concentrates on becoming one with the soapy water,
one with the cup.
One with the tea that had been in the cup.
One with the person who picked the tea from the ground in which the tea had grown. She focuses on becoming one with the earth itself,
though this prospect, this eventuality, unsettles her and forces her to breathe
 

          In. Out. 

and return to the present moment.

She pays attention to the chip in the blue tea cup.
She observes the water going down the drain.
She sees her hands, once smooth, now wrinkled, spotted, old. 
​

          Everything is impermanent, Thich Nhat Hanh teaches.
          This moment passes. That person walks away. Happiness is still possible.



          In. Out. In. Out. In Out.




                                                                                                                      copyright 2017 Ozzie Nogg









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Time and time again . . .

11/5/2017

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Picture
Many sources credit Benjamin Franklin with being the first to suggest seasonal time change. However, Franklin’s idea, voiced in 1784, can hardly be described as fundamental for the development of modern Daylight Saving Time. After all, it did not even involve turning the clocks back. In a letter to the editor of the Journal of Paris, which was entitled An Economical Project for Diminishing the Cost of Light, Franklin simply suggested that Parisians could economize candle usage by getting people out of bed earlier in the morning.

What's more, Franklin meant it as a joke.
               from: timeanddate.com





November 5, 2017


And the command went out:
        AT 2:00 FALL BACK 
whereupon the people obeyed, 
by golly. 



Easterners who dwelt in concrete towers,
flat-landers hunkered down midst corn and wheat,
settlers of snow-topped mountains 
and bronze denizens of the beach.
Each donned PJs,
reprogrammed coffeemakers,
clock-radios, 
microwaves, DVRs,  
moved hands 
on
pocket watches,
on wooden Cuckoos shlepped back from the Black Forest,

then hit the sack and snoozed while
smartphones, iPads, laptops,
on their own,
altered time through networks of inscrutable cognition,
deaf to the celestial guffaw.

*

At sunrise, roosters crowed,
muezzins called,

infants wailed for mother’s breast
and all the sleeping people,
yanked too soon into the dawn,
yawned and groused, Foiled again.


*

Tinker with the hours though we might, 
the God of day and night

still rolls back light before the darkness, 
makes the evening fall,
makes seasons change, 
causes times to come and go, 
orders the stars on their appointed paths
through heaven.


And to think, come spring,
we’ll fiddle with the cosmos yet again.

I mean, really, guys.
Are we chutzpadik,
​
or what?


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First Anniversary

6/5/2017

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Picture



My gift to myself?

Permission to take time off
to refill my bucket.


But I’ll be back.

Should you miss my weekly posts
while I 

relax,
refresh and
recharge,
please read through the archives.

See you before too long . . .



Picture


​

P.S.

While I relax, refresh and recharge,
I'll try to remember this maxim for future posts . . .











Meanwhile, take care.

Breathe in, breathe out.
​

Be kind to yourself and to one another.


​
B'shalom.

Ozzie

​
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Eighty-two and the Hidden 'Bet'

5/30/2017

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Picture

​Today is my 82nd birthday.

​To think I’m that old is astonishing.


Or -- as Sean Spicer said
​in yesterday’s press briefing 
about the relationship between Trump & 
Angela Merkel: 


It’s fairly unbelievable.

No. It’s totally unbelievable.


Happily, I’m not in this alone.

Dame Judi Dench is 82. 
As is Sophia Loren. 
Dench sports white hair. Me, too. 
Loren, big glasses. Me, too.

It’s a comfort to see that even famous, glamorous women
can eventually choose to say
Who gives a shit

(or, in Sophia’s case, Chi dà una merda)
and let Ma Nature take her course.

By the by, Julie Andrews is also eighty-two.
Knowing this is one of my favorite things . . .

Now.
Being the Rabbi’s Daughter, I had to see if Jewish text  
had something to say about reaching the age of eighty-two.

And, since it’s all about numbers, gematria was my go-to source.
     
     Gematria: a mystical system of assigning numerical values to the 22 letters of the
     Hebrew alphabet, especially when used by Kabbalists to interpret Hebrew scriptures,
     the calendar year, a person’s age and the like.




Picture



So get this.


The letter pey is the 17th letter of the Hebrew alphabet. 


It’s numeric value is eighty.





Picture
Bet is the second letter of the Hebrew alphabet.

It’s numeric value is two.

Together, pey and bet make eighty-two.

​So far, so good.




Picture



Digging deeper.

Pey means mouth in Hebrew.
According to the mystic Kabbalists, 
pey - by extension - also means word,
expression and speech.


If you look closely at the pey, you’ll see a hidden letter bet
which, in Hebrew, means house.
In Judaism we value the concept of Shalom Bayit. 
​
Peace in the home.
A peace that comes from treating those who live under our roof 
with respect and loving-kindness in both word and deed.

The sages teach us that the way we speak inside our homes 
is generally the way we speak outside the home.
Our private conversations -- our choice of words, our tone -- 
are often reflected in public. 
And conversely, the way we speak in public will often carry over and affect --
for good or ill -- the peace in our home.

Our Shalom Bayit.

Okay, then.

On my eighty-second birthday I’m reminded that if I speak like a harpy in my house,
​if I berate husband, family, guests or workpeople,

I'll speak like a harpy in the public square.
But if I speak kindness at home, I’ll speak kindness out in the world.
Garbage in, garbage out.

Or, as my Bubbie used to say, 
What a child hears at home he repeats in the marketplace.

Finally.
Poking around on Google, looking for people who were leading active, 
interesting lives at my age, 
I stumbled on a tightrope-walker named William Ivy Baldwin who,
on his 82nd birthday in 1948, 

strung a special wire over a canyon in Eldorado Springs, CO, 
kept his eyes straight ahead
and crossed the chasm without looking back.


That’s probably the secret. 
Don’t look back.

Except, perhaps, at lessons my Bubbie taught me.

            
                                                                            copyright 2017 Ozzie Nogg



 


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D.J. Trump and The Seventh Week

5/24/2017

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Take special care to guard your tongue before your morning prayer. 
A person who wakes up in the morning is like a new creation.
Begin your day with unkind or trivial words, and the day is tainted. 
All of your words each day are related to one another.
All of them are rooted in the first words that you speak that day.

              Israel Baal Shem Tov (written long before the advent of tweets . . .)

*
A bit of backstory:

For the past six weeks (since the second Seder of Passover) Jews everywhere have been marking off the forty-nine days until Shavuot - the festival that celebrates the giving and receiving of the Torah. This custom is called Counting the Omer, and today - 
May 24, 2017 — is the first day of the seventh and final week.


This counting began as an agricultural (some might say superstitious) ritual. Our ancestors would pray for an abundant spring harvest by waving a measure of barley - an omer - toward the night sky. Eventually, this agricultural rite was replaced by special blessings, and the counting became the way to mark the Israelites’ journey from bondage in Egypt to revelation at Mount Sinai.

People keen on Kabbalah consider the Counting of the Omer a time of self-reflection and spiritual renewal - a 49-day mindfulness practice that helps us pay attention to the uncertainty in our lives. The small changes, the dramatic transitions, our reactions to life’s shifting circumstances and new realities.

According to the mystical tradition, each of the seven weeks holds a specific
spiritual quality.
 

Week One: Loving-kindness 
Week Two: Discernment
Week Three: Beauty, Balance and Truth
Week Four: Victory and Vision
Week Five: Gratitude
Week Six: Foundation and Connection
Week Seven: Sovereignty and Supreme authority


So, now we arrive at D. J. Trump and the Seven Weeks.
The week of sovereignty and supreme authority.


Today, I suggest that on each day of the coming week, D. J. Trump consider the following questions and exercises, paraphrased from Journey through the Wilderness: A Mindful Approach to the Ancient Jewish Practice of Counting the Omer by Rabbi Yael Levy;
and A Spiritual Guide to the Counting of the Omer by Simon Jacobson.


May 24. Day One of Week 7: 
Healthy authority is always kind and loving. An effective leader needs to be considerate. Does my sovereignty make me more loving? Do I exercise my leadership in a caring manner? Do I impose my authority on others?

Exercise for the day: Do something kind for your subordinates.


May 25. Day Two of Week 7: 
Do I recognize when I am not an authority? Do I exercise authority in unwarranted situations? Am I aware of my limitations as well as my strengths? Do I respect the authority of others? Dignity also needs discipline. A dignified person needs to have a degree of reserve.

Exercise for the day: Before taking an authoritative position on any given issue, pause and reflect if you have the right and the ability to exercise authority in this situation.


May 26. Day Three of Week 7: 
A good leader is compassionate. Is my compassion compromised because of my authority? Do I manage a smooth-running operation? Do I give clear instructions to
my subordinates? Do I have difficulty delegating power? Does my organization work
as a team?

Exercise for the day: Review an area where you wield authority and see if you can increase its effectiveness by curtailing excesses.


May 27. Day Four of Week 7:
Determination and will reflect the power and majesty of the human spirit. How strong
is my conviction to fight for a dignified cause? How confident am I in myself?
Do I mask my insecurities by finding excuses?

Exercise for the day: Act on something that you believe in but have until now been tentative about.


May 28. Day Five of Week 7:
Does my authority humble me? Am I an arrogant leader? Do I appreciate my blessings?

Exercise for the day: Acknowledge God for creating you with personal dignity.


May 29. Day Six of Week 7:
Self-confidence allows you to respect and trust another's authority and ultimately join with him. Does my authority prevent me from uniting with others? Could that be because of deeper insecurities and a lack of self-confidence that I am unaware of? 

Exercise for the day: Actualize your authority by intensifying your bond with a close one.


May 30: Day Seven of Week 7: 
Does my position of leadership come from deep-rooted inner confidence in myself?
Or is it just a put-on to mask my insecurities? Does that cause my authority to be excessive? 

Exercise for the day: Take a moment and concentrate on yourself, on your true inner self, not on your performance and how you project to others.


Finally.
During this seventh week of the Omer period - before we receive Torah and its mandate to create a just society - we are instructed to ask ourselves: 
        Where is our world now, compared to where we want it to be?         
        Where is there suffering, violence, and corruption? 

        Where do we see the absence of our most deeply-held values, an erosion of our most fundamental sense of what is right?


How would you answer those questions, D. J. Trump?

Our sages tell us that when the Hebrews were in bondage, they assimilated the immoral ways of the ancient Egyptian people. But then, the Children of Israel were miraculously redeemed and - during their forty-nine day trip to Sinai - underwent a spiritual transformation and became a holy nation.

Oh, boy.
Can miraculous transformations still happen?
Can a seventy-year old man still be zapped with an ah-HA, revelation?


Somewhere, deep inside, D. J. Trump must must must have better angels.

I’m counting on it.  
                                                                   

​                                                                                  copyright  2017 Ozzie Nogg








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Mother's Day and Sunbonnet Sue

5/14/2017

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appliqué 

noun ap·pli·qué \ˌa-plə-ˈkā\
a needlework technique in which a small piece of fabric is sewn
​or otherwise fixed to a larger piece of material
to create designs, patterns or pictures
.


                                                *

Sunbonnet Sue: A Brief Bio.
​

Quilt blocks of Sunbonnet Sue began showing up in the 1800s, but their popularity began to grow after the publication of the Sunbonnet Babies Primers in the early 20th century. Bertha Corbelt and Eulalie Osgood Grover teamed up to teach children how to read by using illustrated stories about Sunbonnet Sue and her friends, Fisherman Fred and Suspender Sam. Teachers, parents and children fell in love with Sunbonnet Sue
due to her sweet temperament, wholesome vignettes of everyday life and that adorable ever-present bonnet. Sue's simple faceless features enticed hand quilters, and soon after the release of the Sunbonnet Babies Primers, magazines began publishing patterns for needleworkers. Most of the Sunbonnet Sue quilts found today were made between 1900 and 1940. She never seemed to grow old. More than a century after her conception, Sunbonnet Sue is still just as cute as ever - one design that almost everyone recognizes, even nonquilters.

                             
                                 
stolen from various Google sources 


                                                 *

Picture
In September 1934, when my mother found out she was pregnant, she began stitching a Sunbonnet Sue quilt. By the time I was born the following May, Momma had finished seventeen blocks.

I first laid eyes on the quilt blocks when I was thirteen, one afternoon when Momma and I were rummaging in her cedar chest, looking at clothes from her trousseau — chiffon nightgowns, pongee bed jackets, silk slips. This peek into my mother’s past was a secret ritual, for just the two of us. But on this day, from under the tissue-paper wrapped lingerie, Momma lifted a white pillow case, gently pulled out the contents and there they were. Seventeen Sunbonnet Sues, appliquéd onto beige muslin squares.

When he got sick, I didn’t have time to sew these together, Momma said. They’re here whenever you want them. I have no recollection of what either of us said next, which might suggest that my mother and I weren’t close. But the opposite is true. We adored one another. Even after I married, had children of my own, created an independent life for myself — even then, my relationship with Momma often seemed the most precious in my life.

Picture
My mother died, unexpectedly, when I was thirty-six. Her death left me crazed with anger, hollow with loneliness, completely unmoored. I took her crockery mixing bowls home to my kitchen and wept. I transplanted her lilies of the valley to our yard, and wept. The movers carried her cedar chest down to our basement, and I wept. At the grocery store, in the shower, on the treadmill, my mother’s absence would blindside me with tears. There seemed to be no end of weeping.

When I finally lifted the seventeen quilt blocks out of the cedar chest, each little Sunbonnet Sue in her print dress and pastel hat - embroidered with French knots or daisy stitch - looked just as I remembered her. But the muslin squares were dotted with mold.
I carefully pulled out my mother’s stitches, separated each small appliqué from her larger backing, laid the little girls in a row on the floor and stared at them - my mother’s creation - not 
knowing what the hell to do next.


Picture




So far, I’ve sewn each Sunbonnet Sue to a new,
dark blue cotton square.
Not much, but progress of a sort.
Perhaps that’s the way it is with
mothers and daughters.
With parents and children.
​
There’s always unfinished business.



                                         copyright 2017 Ozzie Nogg 




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Ode to Vivianna Childer

5/9/2017

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Vivianna Childer is a 
scrappy ninety-two year old
        
hey nonnie nonnie
        
let the Jordan roll
Her belly full of black-eyed peas
bicuspids full of solid gold
        
hey jubilation do shine

She has a dog named Benjamin
They share a bone they share a bed
        
hey nonnie nonnie
        
and a motherless child
Sir Benjamin wears knickers
vest and tie that Vivvie pirated
        
hey all God’s chillun got shoes.


On Friday afternoon they sneak
into the Roxy picture show
        
hey nonnie nonnie
        
one more river to cross
The Duke and Bogie shooting
Ben and Vivvie in the second row
        
hey sit down sister sit down


Get back to their apartment
men are nailing boards across the door
        
hey nonnie nonnie
        
and a steal away home
This building is condemned
You and your mutt can’t live here anymore
        
hey walls come tumbling down


Vivianna hides some meat and biscuits
underneath her dress
        
hey nonnie nonnie
        
and the gospel feast
Takes Benjamin and joins the children
wandering through the wilderness
        
hey nonnie Promised Land


Vivianna makes the rounds
with Bennie in a baby pram
        
hey nonnie nonnie
        
oh the trouble I seen
You can’t fool me that kid’s a dog
he’ll mess the rug now beat it slam
        
hey nonnie nonnie swing low


Benjamin and Vivianna
sleeping in the laundromat
        
hey nonnie nonnie
        
and a-rock-a my soul
Saint Peter and a band of angels
sweeping off the welcome mat
        
hey hallelujah sweet Lord


                                                                               copyright 2017 Ozzie Nogg
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    Ozzie Nogg

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