Thomas Moore writes ...

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,

Which I gaze on so fondly today,

Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms,

Like fairy wings fading away

Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,

Let thy loveliness fade as it will;

And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart

Would entwine itself verdantly still.

It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,

And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,

That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known,

To which time will but make thee more dear.

No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,

But as truly loves on to the close:

As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets

The same look which she turned when he rose.

what were you expecting of me?
 a cripple? a devil?
a fat man in a red hat?
don't talk to me like that.

And just what did you want to hear?
and what did you want to see
because whatever you wanted, -
   it obviously wasn't me.

If you had asked for me
I would have given myself
but you asked for a god-shaped box
   to put on your Sunday shelf.

You asked for a good luck charm
you asked for a santa clause
you asked expecting easy
from a God without any claws.

You wanted love but no justice
you wanted only gifts and grace
You forgot that a God of mercy
has a plan for the whole human race.

You completely forgot about glory
You completely forgot about sin
your god - an impotent puppet
why don't you go call upon him.

-jm

Sunny side up

Napkin crumpled clouds
across the sky

cast iron ocean
with an egg yolk sun to fry

sea foam butter
on dawn toasted sand

sunrise for breakfast
out on the strand

haiku

cold morning sun lights
with an arm full of ocean
toss fog at my face

Their Lonely Betters

As I listened from a beach-chair in the shade
To all the noises that my garden made,
It seemed to me only proper that words
Should be withheld from vegetables and birds. A robin with no Christian name ran through
The Robin-Anthem which was all it knew,
And rustling flowers for some third party waited
To say which pairs, if any, should get mated.
Not one of them was capable of lying,
There was not one which knew that it was dying
Or could have with a rhythm or a rhyme
Assumed responsibility for time.
Let them leave language to their lonely betters
Who count some days and long for certain letters;
We, too, make noises when we laugh or weep:
Words are for those with promises to keep.

W. H. Auden
1907-1973

When it's not o.k. to hurt

When it's not o.k. to hurt

When was the last time I cried?
Let's see ... where's my shopping list.
Oh.  Back pocket this time.
   carrots
   milk
   eggs
Did I cry at grandma's funeral?
   bread
   butter
   ground beef
No.  I wasn't thinking about grandma.  The coffin was closed. And anyway she was at home in bed watching Jeopardy.
   bay leaf, thyme
Did I pass the spices?
I think I cried when I found out about the strip club
I know I cried then.
I was angry.
I was so very, very, very hurt
Yes, that really did it.
Oops, spices are in aisle 12. I did pass it then.
It doesn't hurt anymore of course.
No, we've worked our way past it. We've dealt with those issues and we're fine now.    Really fine.  Really.
Bread is on sale.
Bread is always on sale.
I don't like this brand.  I think I have enough bread at home.
The funny thing is, I don't even want to cry anymore.
I'm feeling more myself these days. 
The doctor was right.
I'm feeling more myself now.
I knew I would.
He promised I would.
But every once in a while
I wish I could smile.
 - jm


This may be fiction (Grandma is alive and well) but I've been thinking a lot about how afraid we all are of human pain.  We don't talk about it.  We don't want to hear about it.  Video games, t.v. and even other more harmful heart numbing activities are all keeping us from pain and also from hope.  There is no way to eliminate pain without eliminating the joy as well.

Ode by Horace translated by John Dryden

Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call today his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Be fair or foul or rain or shine
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not Heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

John Donne

John Donne   HYMN TO GOD, MY GOD, IN MY SICKNESS. SINCE I am coming to that Holy room,     Where, with Thy choir of saints for evermore, I shall be made Thy music ; as I come     I tune the instrument here at the door,     And what I must do then, think here before ; Whilst my physicians by their love are grown     Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie Flat on this bed, that by them may be shown     That this is my south-west discovery,     Per fretum febris, by these straits to die ; I joy, that in these straits I see my west ;     For, though those currents yield return to none, What shall my west hurt me ?  As west and east     In all flat maps—and I am one—are one,     So death doth touch the resurrection. Is the Pacific sea my home ?  Or are     The eastern riches ?  Is Jerusalem ? Anyan, and Magellan, and Gibraltar ?     All straits, and none but straits, are ways to them     Whether where Japhet dwelt, or Cham, or Shem. We think that Paradise and Calvary,     Christ's cross and Adam's tree, stood in one place ; Look, Lord, and find both Adams met in me ;     As the first Adam's sweat surrounds my face,     May the last Adam's blood my soul embrace. So, in His purple wrapp'd, receive me, Lord ;     By these His thorns, give me His other crown ; And as to others' souls I preach'd Thy word,     Be this my text, my sermon to mine own,     “Therefore that He may raise, the Lord throws down.”

This is what my dear sweet Isaac is to me

SONNET

TO

MY BELOVED DAUGHTER.

by Mary Darby Robinson

WHEN FATE in ruthless rage assail'd my breast,
  And Heaven relentless seal'd the harsh decree;
HOPE, placid soother of the mind distress'd;
  To calm my rending sorrows–gave me THEE.
In all the charms of innocence array'd,
  'Tis thine to sprinkle patience on my woes;
  As from thy voice celestial comfort flows,
Glancing bright lustre o'er each dreary shade.
Still may thy growing REASON's light divine,
  Illume with joy my melancholy bow'rs;
Still may the beams of sacred VIRTUE shine,
  To deck thy spring of youth with thornless flow'rs;
So shall their splendid attributes combine,
  To shed soft sunshine on MY WINTRY HOURS.

appologies

It was time to put all my poems in one place.  If you read my "life and times" blog most of these are on there and you've read them already.  Sorry for the over posting!

Yesterday's child

Yesterday's Child called you Daddy
   and whispered for you in the dark.
Yesterday's Child looked up and up and up
   and you were so big
   and I was so small.
   and I couldn't reach, or carry or know.
I needed you.  And that was all.

But when I wanted your embrace
   and saw no reassuring face
          I prayed. 
  and your absence led me to God

It was your sin that watered my faith
Your empty chair led me to a throne
   And when growing up, you weren't there
        I was never alone.

Thunderstorm

The heavens are roaring
Tree branches are soaring.
Leaves freed from their mooring
   get soaked by rain pouring
   from sumo clouds warring.

She loves

She loves to see the moon and stars
and hates the clouds that hide them
she loves the smell of dune and sea
and longs to play beside them

she loves the God of earth and sky
she loves the Hand that made them
the treasure of her faith and love -
I pray she'll never trade them.



Eliannah really really loves the moon.  She searches for it at night and tells me how much she hates it when it is too cloudy to see it.  Her simple delight at God's handywork has made me appriciate the things I've taken for granted and see again through her eyes how delightful and vast the dark celing we live under.

The heavens are telling the glory of God ... Psalm 19

pig

It may be warm
it may be big
I may waller down in it
like a grunt happy pig

You might not think
that I would care
but bed is better
when we share.

Origami

oragami happy face folded in a smile
turn two edges
moutain fold
I'm frowning for awhile
smooth the paper
leave it loose
this is the way my face folds, when it's not in use

Spring Break

kleenex choir
sitting on the couch
cough, sniff, wheeze hack
grouch, grouch, grouch

Cough syrup cocktail
Please pass the juice
nose like dam
with an opened sluice

sneezing and itching and fevers too
spring break symphony
What's a mom to do?

T.V., DVD
chicken noodle soup
spring break activity
going down the poop.

Kisses

Kisses from mommy are few and far between
as I watch her at her chores
she brings me right along with her
she carries me to bed
and just before I got to sleep
- a kiss right on my head

But daddy's kisses
come when he comes home
late at night when I should be asleep
I get 5 -or -6 all in a rush
though it's kind of like being kissed by a brush
I think I like best his technique.

Mama rocks the craddle
just like that
mama rocks the craddle
where you lay on your back .
Just like that, just like that
mama rocks that craddle with a smile while you nap.

Mama wears a halo
you wear a hat
she put it on your head
just like that.
Just like that, just like that
with the bow in the middle and the tag in the back.

Mama always loves you
mama always will
mama blows you kisses from the window sill
Just like that, just like that
mama blows you kisses and you always blow them back
to your mama to your mama
who taught you love's soundtrack.

SiCee

Dirt burnished face
tarnished with love
tucked in the palm
of a bachelor glove

unraveled expression
yarn coif in tatters
my baby loves this baby
and that's all that matters.

Daydream

untitled

"dream fiercely", they said
but little did they know
that dreams fall softly
as the winter snow

Atop the highest ladder
- the stars still out of reach
my human limitation
douse all daydreaming with bleach

Those castles in the sky
that coated earth with
soft phantasms
crumbled slowly
and stopped snowing
on realities reaction.

growing up and growing weary
growing tired of dreamless sleep
my crumpled aspirations
hibernating as I weep.

small brown spider
tiptoes through the room
where 4 small noses softly sing
a sleepy little tune

I hush my to do list
of one thousand chores
as I smile and listen -
pianissimo snores.

6 little blackbirds

6 little blackbirds sitting on the stairs
1 got up and wondered off somewheres

5 little blackbirds shaking paper cups
2 screaming blasphemy when you won't fill it up

3 little blackbirds mumbling in the street
go around them Pharisee, be careful who you greet!

Those same 3 little blackbirds huddled round a fire
sitting in a cardboard box
in your old attire.

look away walk away
you're safe inside your own doorway
who cares if theirs is made of a tarp
and 6 of them froze last night in the park?

5

five

soft tiny
your hand
face giggling in smile

below belly dance
leg can can kick style

grunt chuckle squeak
splarch
mouth full of cornstarch

lint velcro neck
V eyebrow arch

five months too fast
fast months to five
tummy time tango
jumping jack jive

Flat Screen Fantasie

an insect drifts across a popcorn sky
the t.v. blinks it's cycloptic eye
remote in hand like a cigarett
time to forget
time to forget

a butterfly dies in it's warm cocoon
alive but not living
inside a dark womb
refusing to bloom
refusing to bloom

entertained to death
enslaved with fun
napping in the blue of a sunset sun
asleep in the heat of a midnight sun.

Picking God's pocket

you saw us on the news
but we're already dead
those medical supplies
are next to your bed

your cash didn't reach us
your tears dried too fast
your wallet was uninjured
by the momentary contrast

so go sell your soul to Cable
store those treasures in your closet
start your Heaven in Hawaii
with your 10% deposit

two thousand unreached voices
can you hear their faintest whisper
a million Christian choices
won't you choose to help us Sister?

I foolishly thought

I was in control

Which only stands to reason

I planted my garden,

watched it grow and harvested in season

Of course the rain would always come

of course the sun would shine

and when it grew and gave it's due

the glory was all mine.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow

Let heaven and nature sing

while foolish creatures here below

won't bow and bless their King.
- j.m.

I'm trying to teach the kids that

"every good and perfect gift comes from above

On the road again ...

On the road again ...

When you're gone
I always sleep right down the middle of our bed
and wake with all the blankets
tucked 'round my feet.

and when you're gone I
drink your orange juice
and I sometimes wear your shirt
and I never keep our bedroom very neat.

But when you're here
I use your toothbrush
and forget to pack your lunch
and I grumble at the socks
spread on the floor.

And when you're here I interrupt you,
disappoint you and mistrust you
and I don't know what I'm doing all that for.

Maybe it's because I've missed you
and it's high time I just kissed you
will you stay so I can fall for you once more?
Maybe then I'll grow to find
that patiently we can rewind
and learn to be the lovers
we were before.

J.M.

This is my version of a country song ... complete with cheese

Lechem Ha-chaim

The Man from "Bread Town"

5,000 full
but did the soul
know what he just said?

A hunger hole
inside their soul
could they fill it up with bread?

Eyes on the loaf
or eyes on it's Baker?

Come on your knees
to Jesus, the bread maker.

I've been quite discontent lately. Today's sermon really showed me how much I'm missing the point. It also got me thinking about the Jewish toast "L 'Chaim". Most cultures toast "To Love", "Cheers", "Salud" or something of that nature. Jews toast "To Life" because life itself is a gift. (Bethlehem means "house of bread")

Armies in the Fire

by Robert Louis Stevenson

The lamps now glitter down the street;
Faintly sound the falling feet;
And the blue even slowly falls
About the garden trees and walls.

Now in the falling of the gloom
The red fire paints the empty room:
And warmly on the roof it looks,
And flickers on the back of books.

Armies march by tower and spire
Of cities blazing, in the fire;--
Till as I gaze with staring eyes,
The armies fall, the lustre dies.

Then once again the glow returns;
Again the phantom city burns;
And down the red-hot valley, lo!
The phantom armies marching go!

Blinking embers, tell me true
Where are those armies marching to,
And what the burning city is
That crumbles in your furnaces!

Robert Louis Stevenson

midnight

a light peeked past a door half cracked
a hunchbacked foorboard whispered down the hall
my eyes tight shut my face relaxed
my ears reach towards his tardy call

the inside of my eyelids play their tricks
the inside of my ears invent that sound
"He isn't coming home" the Clock ticks
but Patience folds her arms and holds her ground

A key-struck lock ignite my soul
while sock clad steps allay my fear
the opened bedroom door provokes the coal
that lays simmering in darkness till he's here.

Happy poetry month pt 2

Juke Box Love Song
by Langston Hughes
from The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes


I could take the Harlem night
and wrap around you,
Take the neon lights and make a crown,
Take the Lenox Avenue busses,
Taxis, subways,
And for your love song tone their rumble down.
Take Harlem's heartbeat,
Make a drumbeat,
Put it on a record, let it whirl,
And while we listen to it play,
Dance with you till day--
Dance with you, my sweet brown Harlem girl.

Happy poetry month

In honor of poetry month (now that it is half over) I'm going to try and share some short poems that I think are great.

Forebearance
by Ralph Waldo Emerson


Hast thou named all the birds without a gun;
Loved the wood-rose, and left it on its stalk;
At rich men's tables eaten bread and pulse;
Unarmed, faced danger with a heart of trust;
And loved so well a high behavior
In man or maid, that thou from speech refrained,
Nobility more nobly to repay?
O be my friend, and teach me to be thine!

It's good for the soul

yuck, I hate this job.


1 John 1:8-10
8 If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. 9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. 10 If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word has no place in our lives.


James 5:16
Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.


apologies with heaving sob
brine washed cheeks
- unpleasant job

friendship rended
now mended
overdue task now tended

joy to come?
renewal started?
softening of the once hard hearted?

at peace with God
at peace with you
confessing sins - so hard to do!

Scene from a second story window

shop away the sadness
that eats away your soul
gorge yourself on madness
- still you will not be full

your body is a ghost
that pleasures cannot heal
you died at birth
to live a life that's striving hard to feel

you're never more than happy
your delight will never "max"
the goodwill that' you've earned
is subjected to tax

but chin up child
heaven awaits
and wholeness
and Holiness
inside its gates

firefly christian

Firefly Christian
won't you shine your little light?
won't you twinkle in the darkness
won't you brighten up our night?

it's so hard to see your signals
flashing on and flashing off
I'm attracted to your light
like a candle and a moth

but the darkness is more lonely
when the dying light is lost
when you hide a way your glowstick
and forget to count the cost

then the darkness overwhelms me
though you flicker as before
I'll cling tighter to my twilight
I don't need you anymore.

are you midnight? are you shadow?
are you friend or are you foe?
chose your master choose your light source
and then let your candle glow.

Camping

Wrote this last year while camping ... just found it in a drawer

cricket screaming
fire dreaming

log poking
camfire smoking

burger boasting
'mellow roasting

dirt drinking
"DEET" reaking

sunstained cheeks
camping geeks

old guitar
hymnal vamping

nothing beats
church camp-out camping!

on my mind

loose thoughts
loose teeth
once removed
reveal beneath
fleshy wounds
like a wreath
flash of pain
- and relief

loose thoughts
a pocket full
jingle brightly
never dull
cling and ring
against my soul
- j.m.

bethlehem in babylon
tinsle in the manger
a snow man placed on my front lawn
rooftop full of reindeer
"Santa baby" on the ipod
gluttony at the table
have we forgotten all that happened
in that dirty stable

celebrate with lavish gifts
the charities get pennies
(that's if you have any)
"the more you buy the more you save"
I'm forgetting what HE gave
getting caught in a Christmas craze
in a land of plenty



This year in Bible Study we have been studying Babylon and the culture of excess that Daniel faced with integrity, hence the first line ...

Happy Anniversary!

we share a life
we share a bed
"we'll share everything" we said

we've shared our struggles
and our laughs
we've shared t-shirts
we've shared baths

we shared colds
we've shared pain
we've shared fear
we've shared blame

we've shared most everything
but the best part?
you taught me how to share my heart.

Untitled

I've been so busy lately I haven' written much. Which is no excuse for the mangled little thing I came up with today. (I recommend reading Robert Burns' classic instead of the following)


My love is like a dandelion
it grows most anywhere
it scatters fluffy, puffy seeds
that dance upon the air

those fluffy, puffy seeds reach far
those cotton seeds reach wide
those cotton seeds have grown like weeds
upon my heart's hillside

don't try to pull them out my dear
that taproot grows down deep
those bitter leaves have stretched out wide
to catch the tears you weep

my love is common place my dear
your love is just like mine
our love shall last a good long bit
and grow a long long time.

Emily Dickinson

I don't much like Emily Dickenson (have you ever made it through the whole "Song of Myself"?). But I came across this one and since it has been rainy lately I thought it worthwhile to share

XXXVII

THE WIND begun to rock the grass
With threatening tunes and low,—
He flung a menace at the earth,
A menace at the sky.

The leaves unhooked themselves from trees 5
And started all abroad;
The dust did scoop itself like hands
And throw away the road.

The wagons quickened on the streets,
The thunder hurried slow; 10
The lightning showed a yellow beak,
And then a livid claw.

The birds put up the bars to nests,
The cattle fled to barns;
There came one drop of giant rain, 15
And then, as if the hands

That held the dams had parted hold,
The waters wrecked the sky,
But overlooked my father’s house,
Just quartering a tree. 20



This week's rainstorm (or was it last week?) sounded to me like a truck engine with a sticky lifter. It went through all the gears in about 10 min and then slowed to nice purring idle. I normally like the sound of the rain but having the ghost of a "78 ford ranger chugging outside my bedroom window? Less than poetic.

"One Step Backward Taken" by Robert Frost

Not only sands and gravels
Were once more on their travels,
But gulping muddy gallons
Great boulders off their balance
Bumped heads together dully
And started down the gully.
Whole capes caked off in slices.
I felt my standpoint shaken
In the universal crisis.
But with one step backward taken
I saved myself from going.
A world torn loose went by me.
Then the rain stopped and the blowing
And the sun came out to dry me.
- Robert Frost

I don't know where to start! This is such an amazing poem I can almost see the mudslide and feel his sigh of relief. What a picture of life choices. I think that this poem should always be read alongside his more famous "The road not taken". I feel like I am on the brink of some sort of change right now but I don't think I will have a choice as to which path to take. I feel as if something is going to happen that I can either embrace and rush into headlong or take one simple step back to avoid the chaos. It is frustrating because I can't see what's up ahead but I can know that God will answer my prayers to be stretched and challenged since He has promised to

Little Boy Blue

Baby sneezes
midnight snacks
3 steps forward
and you never looked back.

First word, second word
can't stop talking
endless running replaced your walking


Those trips to the park
catching my "slide rocket"
going home with daisies
overflowing each pocket

I sang you to sleep
when you were little
held your hand as you grew
I taught you to speak
taught you dress
taught you to tie your shoe

You stand before me a little man
looking as big as a kindergardner can
so brave, so afraid, so excited and yet

You reach for my hand as we take the next step

Candlelight quiet time

roller coaster flickering flame
rides the wind
in a multicoloured dance
does it have a chance?

the drafts get colder
(as I get older)
black sputtering stub
spits out smoke signals
of a torpedoed quiet time

I send out grand intentions that
puddle round my feet
melted into waxy nothings
just another rut

I want so much more ...

Matthew 12:18
18 "Here is my servant whom I have chosen, the one I love, in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will proclaim justice to the nations. 19 He will not quarrel or cry out; no one will hear his voice in the streets. 20 A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he leads justice to victory. 21 In his name the nations will put their hope."

I never had a chance to see your face
to count your fingers
feel your embrace.

I never had a chance to hear your laugh
or cry
before I said goodby

it was over before I knew
but I suspected,
and daddy did too.

Precious to us
Precious to God
life is a gift
- no matter how short lived.

Each day is a gift
this moment is a "present"
Cherish each second
before they're all spent.

childhood romance

you don't look a day over preschool
I love that paint on your shirt
you kind of smell like crackers
but you mostly smell like dirt

Your hair is sticking out everywhere
you forgot to button your pants
I know that you'd love a playdate
but I won't give you a chance.

your laugh is contageous,
and so is your sneeze
I wish you'de use kleenex instead of
your sleeves

grow up little boy
chase me with flowers
we'll talk on the phone
(or ichat) for hours

who knows what's ahead
I think i'll wait
to see if this turns out
to be something like fate.




this is a work in process ...

Thought for the day

The rest of the poem makes no sense but I love this thought, Why do I love e.e. cummings so much?

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance


e.e. cummings

Fat free Christian

Hey there Christian
I see you once a week
your Sunday school solution
Like a New Year's resolution

You're a one arm push-up
sometimes up, but mostly down
your're on some kind of treadmill
but you aren't gaining any ground

you're looking left,you're looking right
at others on their staitionary bike
push those pedals- win that race
spend and hour in one place

the race to win should point to heaven
but you're maxed out at level 7

Who is winning, you're all still abreast
and hour of exercise, a week of rest
Is anyone really trying their best?

Sounds pretty harsh
I do it too
I've got my spiritual gut - like you
I'm milk fed, log eyed - forget the meat
scripture reading's like a vegetable treat.

30 pounds in 30 days
I'm beefing up in spiritual ways
Is this zeal just another diet craze?

Sunday Morning Sanctimony

Sunday Morning Sanctimony
I've got the gospel in my pocket
a couple verses in my head
my life verse above my window
and a spirit that is almost dead

I can quote some Greek and Hebrew
I'm unsure what it means
I could find it in a commentary
or stack of Christian magazines

I can spell hyper static union
I can quote all of Romans 8
I can sing in the congregation
with a heart that is full of hate.

What exactly is a Christian?
What does it mean to love?
How does the Gospel affect my station
' before the throne of God above'?

What's the good of going to church
if it's all for me and my friends?
Who's on my Christian wish list?
who even knows I'm a witness?

I want to serve you and your people
Lord,
I just don't know where to start
Create in me a right spirit
Create in my a clean heart.

I know, I know, I said I was relegating all of my poetry to my poetry blog but ... my husband made me do it.

The hippopotamus’s day
Is passed in sleep; at night he hunts;
God works in a mysterious way—
The Church can sleep and feed at once.
T.S.
Eliot

Is the Church asleep? I've been wondering why I never meet "new believers". Maybe I'm disconnected from the outreach that goes on around me.

Story of my life

to my sometimes friend,
you don't even know who you are

how I wish I spent the time with you
to nurture what never was

I wonder why I'm lonely

rejected lovers know what it is like

but between us there has been no fight

I don't fit in your circle, you don't fit in my phone

I'll just play with my ipod and live life alone.

Chansons Innocentes: by e.e. cummings

in Just-

spring when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman


whistles far and wee


and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it's

spring


when the world is puddle-wonderful


the queer

old balloonman whistles

far and wee

and bettyandisbel come dancing


from hop-scotch and jump-rope and


it's

spring

and

the

goat-footed


balloonMan whistles

far

and

wee


I know this is the first day of summer but I just love the way e.e. cummings writes. When I is was in highschool my name was Jacquiandbrooke and in elementary school I was Wendyandjacqui. I think I really miss the everydayness of a school friend.

The Night has a Thousand Eyes

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one:
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.

-- Francis William Bourdillon

So much to ponder here, I'm going to have to read more Bourdillon since I hadn't heard of him until I looked up the inscription I found handwritten in my very old copy of Paradise Lost.

The poem that never was

think,think think
think,think think

"the train moved like a lightning crack ..."

I push my backspace back back back

think,think think
think,think think

"her hair was like a waterfall of grey..."

I brushed that little thought away

think,think think
think,think think

"a turbo engine and silver sage ..."

I sighed and quickly turn the page

Over thinking, loads of tripe -
I close the page. I'm done tonight.


Sometime no matter how hard I try to make an idea work, I come up against a brick wall, am I the only one?

To my father

A shrinking shadow,
you were so tall
the sun was high
when you started to fall

Slowly sinking
didn't notice at first
- inflated puddle
first shortened, then burst

the bright light inside
the day that you died
cast nothing but spotlights
on the tears that i cried

two salty dribbles
race down my chin
one father died
a new one begins

you reached for my hand
you started to love
you called me at home
as the sun stretched above
climbing again
it reaches higher
casting a shadow that won't expire.

After my dad's heart attack, he has realized the importance of family and has reached out to us all in different ways. Thanks dad.

Mazal Tov Josh and Lisa!!

Here's to meeting the man of your dreams
Here's to meeting the woman of yours
Here's to sharing your daily burdens
Here's to sharing your household chores
Here's to everything you've always wanted
Here's to everything you always' lacked
Here's to looking towards the future
and never looking back!!!

The rhyming couplet ... explained

I read all of Shakespeare's sonnets when I was in high school and since they all end in a r.c. I think that poetic form has been deeply embedded in my brain. For a more complete explanation look it up on Wikipedia. This will be a poetry website full of mundane poetry from my daily life and brilliant poetry from other authors. Here is a favorite by Milton

XIX On His Blindness 1655
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait."