Come Hither the Vintage Librarian … live @ the public library

April 3, 2014

Microsoft says over 30% of the PC's in the world still use the XP and yet they discontinue support for in a few days ... interesting times ... Many countries and businesses privately paying the ransom to Microsoft to extend support are government related systems, which makes me wonder if even the publicly funded Library systems here in the USA , without support, will survive (?!)

Something written at the public library the last time my computer had issues, opting to get back to the world of books ... 

Déjà vu ...

Come Hither the Vintage Librarian…

live @ the public library

Theses red bricks came long before digital plastic boxes                    
books of all we are now… beclouded               
               with the dust in the wind from roots we once came.    
well-seasoned keyboards shine                      
                      aneath the wooden book shelves
         "Splendour in the Grass "

Sound clouds hover over sleeping dog eared pages lie in stillness wait
like an unenlightened haze,                          
    most see through the alluring nostalgic aroma
         newspapers old news...unfold breaking silence; 
                  yet I hear this pulsing heartbeat drip the yearning ink
     and feel the corner of eyes upon this presence

The vintage librarian grimaces as sounds meander adrift,                  

   remembering the silent days of yore,            
     of this handmade scribbled ink,                           
transcribed from outside the box                 
    she’s curious of this one who writes in cursive 
firstly and not type                                        

        "nearly a lost art (!)" she coquettishly whispers...    

                  was she just flirting (?)              ... I dream t                      
                           the fragrant scent of a woman's poetic mien swirls,                  
                              manifesting awkward moments of thirsting reality,                      

yet still remaining outside the allure                
                                                                 of the digital box...                                            

         ...  now stepping back over the threshold                            
          with a keyboard click beyond the edge                      
             within it, I find a get out of jail free card,                      
   a digital library registration card,                        
   my hand tightly sworn atop a poetry book          
                        and now access to Al Gore's coveted claim of invention          
typed in Shawshank Redemption                        

and hit enter another world            

          Andy Dufresne crawled away from obtuse                                                        
                                 into the fresh air's light via the library
With a rock hammer shielded by the Bible,                                           
                                                        adorning behemoth singularity... he was freed                                        
                                      
          I just came to the library to be with poetic words, if only for a moment,     
   yet liberating breaths...

Harlon Rivers

Postscript:   

Andy Dufresne was the main character in the classic movie, 

Shawshank Redemption.

His clandestine efforts brought a controversial library into Shawshank correctional facility...  

This thought was just written in a public library and meant to be nothing more than thinking out loud reminding myself of needed groundedness, humility…. by picking up nearly extinct books to touch the paper pages and feel the words touch

before hard bound books and libraries disappear like an unprotected endangered species…

Look what I found (!)

536. Ode ...INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY

FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD
by William Wordsworth …1770-1850

…from stanza           X.                      
                  
Though nothing can bring back the hour
          Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
              We will grieve not, rather find
                      Strength in what remains behind;