Monday, August 3, 2015


Gentle Reader,

What you’ll find below is an upside-down anthology of sorts: a journal of my frequent morning musings from January 2008 till now, in reverse order.

Much of what I write here is verse in traditional rhymed iambic pentameters, old fashioned in form but contemporary in topics and idiom. It asks to be read aloud so that the effects of rhyme and meter may be felt.

Sometimes I write brief prose essays, but even my verses are essays, or attempts, pursuing a line of thought to some conclusion, though more sonorously than those in prose: discursive verses, I call them.

In either case, you’re the reader over my shoulder as I write, which makes my writing different than when I have no audience in mind but only a vague urge to express. So I thank you for whatever attention you give my words and thoughts and feelings because you might so easily attend to something else, and you soon will.

To beguile you to linger longer, though, I’ve coupled most of my compositions with a photo or image I’ve taken or borrowed, which often corresponds with my words of that day.

Thank you for visiting here.  I hope you enjoy your stay and are moved to come back soon.

—Alan Nordstrom

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               A strict materialist cannot see mind
               At work in ordering the universe;
               All structures are but randomly combined
               And just as accidentally disperse.

               For him it’s simply physics and its laws
               Stochastically proceeding without aim
               That we have misinterpreted as “cause”
               Yet lack sound reason to support our claim.

               Let me just simply say I have a mind
               And so does everyone who’s reading this,
               And that this very poem is designed
               To contradict our blind materialist.

                    Mind matters: that’s how things have come about,
                    The horse before the cart—there is no doubt.


Sunday, August 2, 2015


                 At the next stage of our humanity,
                 We’ll have transcended the insanity
                 Of war and other senseless violence
                 That saner, wiser reckoning prevents,
                 Adding another sapience to our name,
                 Absolving us at last of ancient blame
                 While ushering in an era of accord
                 That we for eons have been yearning toward.

                 What then?  Perhaps when we at last have shown
                 Such amity, we’ll find we’re not alone
                 And those elsewhere who see how we’ve grown wise
                 Will visit us in peace to be allies
                 In furthering our quest to understand
                 The scope of what the cosmic Source has planned.


                    A Global Wisdom Culture is our aim:
                   The only way we humans can evolve
                   Beyond our woeful history of shame,
                   And all our former waywardness resolve.

                  What is it then for humans to grow wise?
                  It means to realize we’re all one kind,
                 Not enemies but brothers and allies
                 Who for cooperation are designed.

                 We need to share a vision of what might,
                 Once we have grown wise, then come to be,
                 Evolving out of darkness into light
                 Achieving at the last true sanity.

                      In time we’ll find we are no longer bent
                      Once Homo sapiens grows sapient.


Saturday, August 1, 2015


                    It’s memories, reflections, dreams that spark
                    My impulse every day to write a verse
                    While sitting in the morning’s semi-dark
                    Alert for what my Muse brings to disburse.

                   At times like this, it’s nothing better than
                   Reflections on the process that I use;
                   When things go better, though, I sometimes can
                   Authentically invoke the bashful Muse,

                   Surprising me with some original,
                   Engaging topic to investigate
                  And worthy of a sonnet’s musical
                  Devices as a way to contemplate.

                      Tomorrow, I shall hope, that is the case;
                      Today’s won’t even make it to first base.


Friday, July 31, 2015


                    We’ve been potential in the universe
                    Since the shebang first burst into its being
                    Awaiting that bright time it would disburse
                    Creatures like us born capable of seeing,
                    Who’d ultimately grow to comprehend
                    The Cosmos with our sciences and wit
                    Predicting even where it all might tend
                    And where in its progression we might fit.
                    Our challenge is to keep our heads on straight
                    For our propensity is to grow bent
                    Turned from good ends by jealousy and hate
                    That undermine our loving sentiment.
                        For amity and peace long to endure
                        Depends on whether humans can mature.


Thursday, July 30, 2015


                    Today I heard
a man described as an
                    “Enthusiastic atheist,” absurd
                    Though that would be: for “God within” that man
                    Is the root meaning of this Grecian word.