Pi Day 2018 (3-14-2018=19)

Posted on November 23, 2018 by Ute Kaboolian

3.14159

 This pi day’s date sums to 19.

Rob was born in 1919.

When I first looked at pi

I saw 31,

the year I was born. That  sure was fun.

314 lbs. was the most I ever weighed.

 I counted calories approaching my goal

and that’s where I  stayed,

more or less.

415 Greenmount Ave. was my  address.

In the year 1959 my first born was born.  

Wishing Alexa my daily good morn’,

she said it was pi day, no pie to eat,

but, rather, a mathematical treat.

Once again, I checked on that pi.

I’d just written  a  poem.

Oh my!

Its title?  

BLACK SHEEP 141.

 Looks like that pi is never done.

Pay close attention. If  you do

  meaningful numbers are waiting for you.

4-4-2018=19

 Ute Kaboolian

 

 

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Black Sheep 141

Posted on November 23, 2018 by Ute Kaboolian

Black Sheep 141 came as the biggest surprise.

Madelon Rose Logue is certainly wise.

She printed my poem on page 19.

It mentions Rob’s birth year of 1919.

She gave it the title THE NUMBERS TELL THE TALE.

With that Black Sheep’s cover she hit it on the nail.

She nailed it. My poem points to chapter 22

of Jane’s THE EDUCATION OF OVERSOUL 7

 where I came across my birthday,

June 17, in a future year of 2211

 as a day to remember.

In Berlin there’s the Street of June 17

to commemorate the uprising in Ost-Berlin.

They thought they’d be free.

It all happened on my 22ndbirthday in 1953.

As Jane told Rob: in a portion of her mind

conversations went on  for centuries, yet

all at once, in a life much, much vaster than

the ordinary kind.

My poem also deals with the Year

 2012

 when Jane would have been 83,

which reminds me of my innermost journey

in my life-changing year of 1983.

And now, I cannot believe what I see:

Here is my birthday, June 17, in that very same year of 1983.

It’s the date of the deleted Rembrandt Session 954

 (when we married, my husband was 54)

 on that same Black Sheep’s cover!

How on earth can this be?

Ute Kaboolian

 

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The Numbers Tell the Tale

Posted on November 23, 2018 by Ute Kaboolian

The Maya doomsday of 2012 was here.

But a new day  dawned and much became clear.

My Social Security number, you see,

Ends in my potent 93.

In 2012 Rob would have been 93.

My 81stbirthday on that Father’s Day

Summed  to 19 (6/17/2012 = 19). And what can I say?

 Rob’s year of birth is a double 19 (6/20/1919).

Yes, numbers shout. They want to be seen.

Jane’s 83rdbirthday in 2012 brings  to mind

My ’83 journey of the innermost kind. 

Numbers, like symbols, have their own special way

To be understood only

  When we hear what they say.

In The Education of  Oversoul Seven (Chapter 22)

 My birthday (6/17/2211) appears.

The baby touches the symbols on the stones and he hears.

We’re on the same wavelength. That’s all I know.

Thanks, Rob, Jane and Seth. I do love you so.

Ute  Kaboolian 

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The Numinosity of Numbers

Posted on November 20, 2016 by Ute Kaboolian

5-12-1958 = 31

 On the 12th of May in 1958 I came to America.

Now add up the date.

 It sums to number 31.  That’s the year I was born:

A new beginning when all’s said and done.

In the year of 1989, which sums to 9,

The Berlin Wall fell.

I made an observation. It’s a hobby of mine:

We celebrated the 31st anniversary of my coming here in ’58

In a year I, myself, was 58

While  my husband’s age was 85.

Both our ages did contrive

To sum to that ominous number 13,

For us, though, it’s lucky and serene.

My husband’s Social Security number?

It ends in the number 5531,

55 for Jane Roberts.

Let’s all cheer and rise!

It was at the age of 55,

A master number, our Jane closed her eyes.

Then comes, of course, my 31. That’s the year I was born,

When I first saw the sun.

We now write the year of 2016

And another numinosity can be seen.

It’s the 31st Olympiad,

Super gold medal winner, Michael Phelps, is 31.

The year is full of surprises.

On my birthday we had fun:

There were synchronicities

Of dates, events and names

More profound and memorable than idle parlor games.

  The Cubs won the World Series in 1908, which sums to 9.

Then came the long wait:

108 years, which sum to 9, until 2016, another 9,

When the Cubs once again became the champions and all was fine.

There was jumping and clapping unheard of or seen

 at the end of this World Series of 2016.

The 58th anniversary

 of my coming here in ‘58

In this year when I am 85,

Which is the reverse of 58, hold on! Wait!

My Social Security number, you guessed it,

Begins with the number 058. Fate?

I can hardly believe it. It’s all so great!

And by the way…

The first day of Hanukkah and Christmas Eve this year?

Fall on the same day.

Ute Kaboolian

 

 

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A List of Coincidences Surrounding my 85th Birthday in 2016

Posted on July 3, 2016 by Ute Kaboolian
  • The woman who took my birthday cake order over the phone is German (like me).  Her name is Annaliese and she is from the  Pfalz.  Annaliese was also the name of my sister-in-law, who was also from the  Pfalz.  Annaliese is ALSO the name of one of my best friends from childhood, who also shares my birthday!
  • On the day of my birthday, my doctor decided to make a house-call and visit me.  Turns out he too  shares my birthday.
  • Also on my birthday, a deer strayed onto the George Washington Bridge. In German, the word “deer”means “Reh”. If you reverse my maiden name, Herbig, you get Gibreh, or in English, give deer. Hirsch also means deer.
  • Two days after my birthday, my friends, Wayne Thiel and Fred Hirsch, came to wish me a belated Happy Birthday and brought me an adorable small bowl. The amazing thing is the bowl’s adornment. From its rim grows a tree, shaped like a leaf, and next to it a tiny house. I have many wonderful associations with the leaf and have written many poems about it.
  • During their visit, we discussed Edgar Cayce.  The very next day I received the June 2016 Edgar Cayce Venture Inward invitation in the mail. On the bottom of the first page I read “Your Body-Mind-Spirit Resource Since 1931”. I was born in 1931.
  • A few days later, a fellow Black Sheep reader, Marian  Rogers, called.  Every Thursday she reads me a chapter from her book, Astonishments, which was reviewed  in Black Sheep, over the phone. I have bad eyes. This time, Marian told me she had just finished writing a little story and had given it the title Clever Girl. Well, well. The astonishments never cease. I told her that I was reading on my iPad, in the largest font possible, Tessa Hadley’s book, Clever Girl, right at the moment the phone rang. Pretty neat, hm?

Ute Kaboolian

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A Neat Numinosity

Posted on July 3, 2016 by Ute Kaboolian

5-12-1958=31

May 12th of 1958
I arrived in this country.
Now add up the date.
It sums to number 31, the year I was born.
A new beginning when all’s said and done.
In this year of 2016
A neat numinosity can be seen.
The 58th anniversary
Of my coming here in ‘58
In a year that I am 85,
 Which is the reverse of 58,
Hold on. Wait.
My Social Security Number?
 You guessed it,
Starts with the numbers
058.
Fate?
I cannot believe it.
It’s just too great!

 Ute Kaboolian

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The Final Outpost

Posted on September 7, 2014 by Ute Kaboolian

The Final Outpost

To hear the author reciting her poem, accompanied by Wayne Thiel on guitar, click here (visual effects also by Wayne)

Have I arrived, arrived again
at sojourn’s final outpost
in pastures verdant, fruitful and forlorn?
Am I alone on spacious forest footpaths
that are embedded ever in my mind?

Where are my fellow travelers?
Whence do my echoes bounce
when they but hit against a rock
and burst in emptiness of sound?

What am I then?
Am I the rock, the echo and the footpath?
Amid all others and all otherness
am I the only “I” there is?
And is that otherness the only “I” I know?

And NOW where has all gone
that I am all that’s left?

Oh, there are marvels of imaginings to furnish me
with my yet greatest enduring creativity.

I stand within an ancient brand-new NOW.
And in that NOW I know I am a thousand particles
and cells, and selves,
yet stand unbroken and apart.
Though I am also the smallest part of All That Is
I realize that I’m not less
but more
than I ever thought
I was.

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Runes

Posted on September 7, 2014 by Ute Kaboolian

Runes

I went a ship a-sailing
as yonder sea can tell.
I heard great hail stones hailing
into the sea by Bell.

Of runic secrets told they
that know the way through time
that see through bold unfolding
the birches’ rind and rhyme.

The branches are so many
and point in different way
but wise woman is kenny
and ken that go maun stay.

The seed and birch are twofold,
still are they both the one.
Through time and reaches meet they
in Odin’s moon and sun.

Fair lamps of heaven hang they
amongst star-studded stares.
Above earth’s creatures move they
unmoved by their affairs.

Stone-eyed and never failing
they shine, are shined upon.
For Odin some from heaven fell.
A rune he picked for every one.

1985

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Luetzel-Coblenz

Posted on September 7, 2014 by Ute Kaboolian

The following article was written by my grandfather, Richard Herbig, under the pen-name, Gibreh, which is the reverse of his real name, Herbig, for the Luetzellaender Kirmeszeitung, the official branch of the Carnival or Kirmes Society Bombenfeste on October 9, 1904, published from Thursday until carnival Tuesday in its 17th year of the Octoberfest Nr. 1. I translated it October 2004, a century later. The article must be read tongue in cheek, for most of it is funny only to those living in that little town at that time and has a double meaning meant for them alone.

LUETZEL-COBLENZ

Cultural History – A humorous chat by Dr. Gibreh

Luetzel-Coblenz is an ancient settlement whose origins must be searched for in dimmest antiquity, which has not, however, been found. The cradle of humanity, owned by a Luetzel antique dealer leads to far-reaching conclusions, not, however, to the conclusion that this fruitful cradle could be of any use where it is. A fragment of an envelope discovered in a crack of a wall of the old Mosel Bridge during its reconstruction could be deciphered only in so far that the following could be made out: To the immigrant Moselaner, name illegible, called Muenchhausen. The stamp – proof that even in those times the postal establishment worked in blessed efficiency – read, as far as could be made out, 99 B, meaning 99 before Christ. This stamp would have been the rarest ever had it not been destroyed by age and the humidity of where it was found that neither color nor drawing could be determined. The whole rather resembles a spider web. It can be viewed for free in the restaurant of “The Olde Post Office.” Continue reading →

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Talking to Myself

Posted on September 7, 2014 by Ute Kaboolian

TALKING TO MYSELF

(Excerpt from my memoirs)

I kept thinking how amazing it all was. In the inner realm are storehouses of literally inexhaustible creative energy flowing this way and that, pooling together, flowing apart, ever creating while being created, each energy essence unit blinking on and off at speeds so high they give the illusion of permanency in this, our physical space-time continuum. Though there are, of course, an unlimited number of others, probable ones. To them we don’t exist; to us, they don’t. We are literally everywhere. This is beyond words. We must feel it. We are here because we’re not all there. And that’s the old joke. We are there precisely by our non-existence in this other existence of ours. Figure that one out. I’m talking to myself. Continue reading →

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