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Archive for the ‘My Rants About Something’ Category

 

ThanLetter to the Bee

Thank you, Sacramento Bee, for publishing my letter to the Editors. This is in response to a story they ran on education. They had hired a dolphin trainer who worked well with dolphins and children to teach in a poor school district.  I saw red when I saw this, having spent my whole career with our children. They deleted my line “Our children are not dolphins.”

For teachers and parents who work with children, please check out my book on how children learn best: Teacher, You Look Like a Horse. We certainly don’t feed them fish for every right answer.

 

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Morning Shock Waves

 

Who is this woman

In my morning mirror?

Who let this old

Japanese woman in?

 

I have fallen in aftershocks

From devastating earthquakes –

Aftershocked from broken romances –

Rear-ended crashes .

Avalanched by human cruelty –

But never, never, such

Aftershocks of this mirrored truth.

Get her out of here!!!

 

Frances Kakugawa 9-17-19

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I’ll be giving a lecture on writing at the Northern CA Publishers/Authors dinner meeting:

 

Topic: How to be almost famous and not so rich

  1. How writers write, how readers read
  2. Sell books without sales talk
  3. Live in the readers’ world to improve one’s own craft and for national exposure

 

Date:  Thursday, Sept 12, 2019

Place: Denny’s

3529 Auburn Blvd ( Watt Ave and 1-80)

Time: 6:30 p.m.

Open to public, free.

 

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Hi Folks,

Do let me know if you plan to join us…fhk@francesk.org

GCW flyer

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At the post office, an elderly man with a cane and I approached the door at the same time and I opened the door for him. He thanked me, put his back against the door and let me in first. I thanked him. Yes, ladies first.

Leaving the post office, a young man tried to enter as I was leaving. He  opened the door and entered, closing the door into my face.

Walking into the Alzheimer’s Office, I saw a caregiver and an elderly man with a cane coming out of the office. I opened the door and the caregiver walked out. The elderly man exchanged looks with me and I got his message. He held the door open for me, a bit unsteady on his feet,  and I walked in, thanking him. Yes, ladies first. I saw his caregiver waiting by her car.

After a business lunch in Hawaii, my host walked me to the car and opened the door for me. I told him,  “I can’t remember the last time someone opened a car door for me.”  When I was in high school, I asked one of the boys to open the door and he said, “What? You cripple?” But we forgive boys in high schools, don’t we?

We speak in fear of what the electronic world is doing to humanity and how invisible we are becoming.  Are these men I mention the last disappearing act?

 

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I took this photo during a walk around the neighborhood. That eye spoke to me …

Tree

tree bark

I  see you.

Put that saw away.

You will not use my sisters and brothers

To fill your bank account

With Real Estate towers.

 

I see you.

Put that saw down.

Look up at my glory,

Home to hundreds of life

More than you can accommodate

In your blue-printed home of destruction.

 

See me.

Before it is too late.

Frances Kakugawa 2-5-19

 

 

 

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OMG! It has happened.

I was on campus last week to speak on Haiku poetry in one of the classes.  I stopped the teacher who was accompanying me.

“Listen, “ I said. “It is soooo quiet. I don’t hear any human voices.”

We were not alone. There were students all around me but I heard no human voices. They were attached to their electronic devices, strolling toward their destination. It was like being in a zombie movie with shadows of human beings walking all around me in silence. I felt the creep.

At the coffee shop, I observed couples at a table, but couldn’t even eavesdrop to their conversations because there were none. Maybe I’m too late with this poem I’ve shared before:

 

To Children of the 21st Century

 

How do you keep your fingers so free of dirt?

How do you come in from play  without

Mud on your feet, your clothes, your cheeks?

How do you not even sweat?

 

How do you speak without giving eye contact

To the person sitting in front of you?

How do you spend time with your friend

Without conversation?

 

Oh Children of the 21st Century,

Why is there silence in a room filled

With family on this holiday?

How did you become so mute?

 

Do you know how rain feels

Soaking your shirt to your skin?

The smell of sea salt in your hair

After a dip in the sea?

 

Have you watched a little seed

Pushing  its first breath

Out of soil you’ve patted down

A few weeks ago?

 

Can you see a cardinal, a mynah,

A crow, with your eyes closed, listening

To their signature  songs  they sing out to you

In your own back yard?

 

Do you know the feel of your grandpa’s grip

Warm and strong in your hand?

The story behind that  long scar that runs

The length of his arm?

 

Do you carry memories

Of your  grandma’s smiles

Each time you had said,

Hi Grandma. Can I help you?

 

Do you ever count clouds, lying

On soft green grass, laughing

Over silly stuff shared with a friend?

Do you ever cry over a child starving

In Africa or in your neighborhood?

Feel upset over trees being cut

For freeways and shopping malls,

Fancy sports arenas?

 

Have you ever used the eraser

At the end of a pencil,

Writing a poem, a song, a story.

A thank you note?

 

Do you know the feel of crisp

New pages of a book, as they unfold

Moving plots, faster than your impatient

Fingers can follow your eyes?

 

Oh, Children of the 21st Century,

How did you become so dead?

 

From Dangerous Woman: Poetry for the Ageless by

frances h kakugawa

 

 

 

 

 

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