Skip to main content

Divisible by One and Myself


Divisible by One and Myself

I am divisible only by one and myself
Having achieved the age of nine more than three-score-and-ten
By reason of a strength lost in its achievement

I am a Pledge of Allegiance
One man, indivisible, except by one and himself,
With liberty and justice and a 79th inning stretch

We who divide history by one and ourselves
Stride the centuries almost whole
Dividing time with our primeness

Seventy-nine ago, in 1931, Georgia O'Keefe painted Cow Skull
And they finished the Empire State Building, while in Tacoma
Gus and Jennie wondered at what they had done

Two seventy-nines ago, Harriet Beecher Stowed
"Uncle Tom's Cabin", and also in Boston
Emma Snodgrass was arrested for wearing pants

Philadelphians threw British ships out of the harbor and
Three seventy-nines later, Tea Partiers are still throwing
Things out:  sense and logic, taxes and constitutions
All into the harbor!  On three, heave!  Fish it out later!

Five long measures ago, Henry VIII said Anne Boleyn 
Was a loose woman and relieved her of her head
While Henry ordered that a Bible be placed in every church

In 746, the Monastery at Tegernsee in Bavaria
Began brewing its own beer, sixteen long steps ago
Illustrating how durable is the cause of religion true

Twenty times my life ago, Sophocles performed Oedipus the King,
And another time before, Indians learned to extract sugar from
Sugar cane, leaving the truly useful arts for the monks at Tegernsee

At other seventy-nines ago, Hannibal came back to Carthage
And Nebuchadrezzar II laid siege to Jerusalem

Seventy-nine times seventy-nine years ago
Venerable Bishop Ussher might have said it was
Was 228 years before God created the world on October 23, 4004 B.C.
While the Bishop waited, God laid the magic numbers that culminated
In my creation; older than light and darkness, than
Dirt and sea and everything that crawls and flies

I am a prime number, divisible by one and myself
Inheritor of calendars and other useless ways
Of measuring how fine it is to know how long
Are life and love and little things, divisible only by one and myself
Made whole by everything else

Comments

  1. Sorry Gamle Ørn, - vi glemte deg på DAGEN. Gratulerer med dagen den 5.! Neste år har du "rundt" år, - blir det stor feiring da?
    Hilsen Rønnaug og Per

    ReplyDelete
  2. Kommer jeg til å bli 80, er en stor feiring bare å stå opp, og det er ikke så verst, det!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Friends-- My step-father of 35 years died this morning. His name was Conrad Royksund. He was 86 years old. He was born into poverty on a farm near Puyallup, WA. He was the first member of his family to attend college and earned a PhD from the University of Chicago. He paid his way through all of that by fishing in Alaska. He spent his professional career as a college professor. I met him when I was just 3 years old and don't actually have any memories of my life befor e he was in it. He was intimidatingly smart, funny as hell, and worked his ass off. He taught me to meet people with kindness and decency until I was certain they could not be trusted. He taught me to meet ideas with carving knives until I was certain they could. I will remember him as one of the bravest, most curious, and funniest people I have ever met. He left this world with a satisfied mind. We are so grateful. Dan Hubbard

Caliche Busters and Government Work

When I was young and both stronger and smarter than I am now, I put my might and brain to work doing nothing useful, unless it might be thought that hand/foot/eye coordination might come in handy.  Those were skills to be learned and practiced.   I found an iron bar our grandfather had shaped in his blacksmith shop.  He took old car, truck, or wagon axles, and made tools from them for digging post holes.  He sharpened one end to a tip, and the other to a blade.  Washington State, like many places, had a hard layer of soil, probably created by water and limestone, or some such materials, that made digging holes a miserable chore.  The bar chipped through the natural concrete so that a shovel could take it up.   I found Grandpa's iron bar, and since I was young and dumb and strong--or so I thought--decided to punch a hole down to hardpan and ultimate truth.  I knew how to do that.  Raise the bar vertically with both hands, and then slam in straight down.  On the second try, aimi

The Sea is Rising

Let us just step back:  two hundred and fifty years ago, or so, the ships of England and Spain had drifted onto a whole new continent, as they saw it, from far north to a savagely cold south; pole to pole, as if there were such things. Millions of people already lived here, some of them still hunters and gatherers; some of them very wealthy, indeed!  Gold and silver stolen from the southern Americas funded Spanish and English dreams. There was land, lots of land, under starry skies above, rich land, and oil and coal and iron ore.  The whole western world learned how to build industries not on simple muscle power, but on steam and oil.  We farmed, too, of course.  All we needed was cheap labor--slave labor from Africa, mostly, so the ships came with slave labor.  Chinese labor built railroad beds where there had been rock cliffs. Europeans, long used to killing each other for good, religious reasons, brought their religious savagery with them.  Even when all they wanted to do w