W.H. Auden's poem pretty much says it

A friend of mine from work reminded me about the following poem by W.H. Auden titled "Funeral Blues." I remember that first time I heard it was in the movie "Four Weddings and a Funeral." A great poem, true to the emotions that inhabit the bereaved, but tempered with a wry sense of humor that prevents it from becoming maudlin.


FUNERAL BLUES

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West.
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W. H. Auden

Memento Mori

The title phrase cautions us that we are all mortal. It's All Souls Day. In the Catholic religion it's a day to remember friends and loved ones who have died (there's more to it, actually, involving Purgatory, but we'll just keep it simple).

My friend Dave's mom passed away today. My partner of 15 years died in June. Since that date, I've noticed that I am much more attuned and sensitized to the experience of dying. I've had a couple of friends who have lost close family members over the past several months. I've also been reading Mark Doty's book, "Dog Years: A Memoir," which speaks to the experience of living and dying and the relationships and bonds between humans and dogs. It's quite wonderful and has been a great comfort (and source of tears).

At the memorial gathering for my partner Charles, I chose to have a floral arrangement evocative of the Baroque Vanitas paintings, spefically those of Rachel Ruysch. The subject matter of this style of painting includes symbolic elements that remind us of the temporary nature of life - a dragonfly, a bubble, a clock, a burned-down candle, and sometimes a skull. The description sounds quite morbid, but the renderings are quite lovely, I think. Above is a photo of the admirable creation my forist did using only the computer print-outs I provided her. Since I couldn't preserve a bubble, I used an old glass fishing net float that belonged to Charles' parents. On the top of the two books is a bunch of rosemary, which symbolizes remembrance. The clock serves to symbolize two things - that Charles loved to travel and the time that he died, 7:01 a.m.

Halloween - Tricks are for kids?

I seem to be lacking the gay gene for loving Halloween. Each year when we were young kids, our mom would make costumes for the three of us. When our dad was not away on military assignments, he would also join in the fray, designing rather sophisticated costumes, including a robot for my brother, complete with a mechanized "radar" antenna; butterfly wings made of coat hangers and tissue paper for my sister; and for me a devil costume (how appropriate) made entirely of red paper fabric. Remember paper clothing??? Probably not the best thing to be wearing around flaming pumpkins.

As the years have gone on, I have found myself less and less enthralled by the holiday. Perhaps it's because I did theater for so many years, where I got to dress as other characters on a daily basis. Perhaps I just grew tired of the holiday. I can't determine when I began to feel ambivalent about it.

I do know that autumn is my favorite season. My birthday is in October. My favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, is in the fall. I've always embraced the gentle melancholy associated with the season, most likely because I see fall as a reflective season when nature is preparing for its winter sleep. I love the colors of harvest, the gourds, the smoke in the crisp air. And, I love pumpkins - but prefer them in a pie rather than on my doorstep!

From top to bottom: My brother Bruce in robot garb, 1960; me in my paper devil costume, 1960; my sister Cheryl and Bruce in homemade bunny outfits, me in a store-bought pirate getup, c.1961. Why I chose not to have a homemade costume that year is a mystery.