Ernest Morrell

Media.Culture.Pedagogy.

Home Page

My Calendar

Photo Gallery

Philosophy

Giving

Action

Blog

Professor

Bio

Courses

Research Projects

Statement of Research

Books

Articles

Chapters

Papers

Encyclopedia Entries

PowerPoints

Literacy

NLS

City Kids II

Teaching City Kids

Revolutionizing Education

Powerful English

Sociocultural Theory

Critical Literacy

Literacy Education

Media Literacies

Critical Pedagogy

People

Works

Groups

Sites

Terms

Cultural Studies

Essays

Links

Theorists

Schools

Hip-hop

Music

TV

Film Studies

Cyberspace

Media

Af Am Studies

Everyday Antiracism

Plays

Poetry

Resolve and Inspiration

Out of the Oven Undone

Seasons and Cycles

Postmodern Question

May Daze

Unurban Scrawl

A Rose of Any Color

Somewhere in This

These Things I Know

Genghis Cohen

Media Production

Radio Stations

Record Labels

Desert Highway Films

Music Publishing

Virtual Magazines

Photography

Criticism

Lyrics

Fiction

Novels

Short Stories

My Essays

Taking Action

IDEA

R.O.O.T

City Arts and Justice

The Botanical Project

Being Green

The Palpable Revolution

The Educated Citizen

HIV/AIDS

Seasons and Cycles

What’s in a year in a moment?
What is time?
What flows in with the surf tide?
What thoughts rise with the new day?

A year brings the birth of the sunrise
And the death of an institution
White caskets thrust into the brown earth
Bathed in roses and the cries of the living
Graduations and the threshold of the sanctuary
Separations and comings together
Illnesses and recovery
Visions on a hospital bed
Punctured with science
Watching my blood desert me
Packed boxes and
Tearful airport vistas

The joy of first steps
And the anguished hush of a final breath
I have ridden the sky on the wings
Of modern flesh
I have seen the East river
And the yellowing calm Pacific evenings
The frozen waters of the Saint Laurent
The flow of amniotic fluid
And the sweaty salt of the Caribbean Sea
Where the Malecon danced
Until the wee hours before dawn

I have aged a year and a lifetime
And not at all
The ocean hums
The heart beats
It’s all life

I have been broken and mended
I have fallen through caverns and canyons
And risen over the bluffs and into the realm of mist
I have become vision and ice.
I have become air and condensation
I have forgotten and remembered
I have played the role of cause and cure
I have aged exactly one year since the last

I am nothing but cells
In a process
I have nothing but a soul and fragments
I own nothing but footprints
I leave nothing but legacy and silence

It is chilly for springtime and
The band plays and
The brides are all smiles
We are still at war
The children of all ages blow bubbles to the wind

At the beach the women grab onto their shawls
It is dusk as they waddle through the sand toward home.

I am left alone with bottles and words and time.

Ernest Morrell, Ph.D.
1015 Gayley Ave. Suite #1115
Los Angeles, CA 90024

morrell@gseis.ucla.edu