At age sixty six
Employment still defines me.
Weekends ever rock!
Anna visited with her Pop and Mom when she was almost two.
She wobbled around and chattered away just like R2-D2.
Early one morning after she settled in,
She warbled she wanted Pfoops-pfoops.
“What?” we said, laughing out loud,
“Did you say that you like Poop-poops?”
She frowned, then shook her head and pointed her tiny finger,
“No no no! PFOOP-PFOOPs! PFOOP-PFOOPs!”
We really could not get it, thinking she was making a big oops.
She sat down, looked up at her Mom who calmly explained,
“She just wants her Fruit Loops.”
Anna is all grown up now. I wonder if her darling daughters eat Poop-poops, too?
There lies the rub — how to pull the tale together.
The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire
One hundred forty six people dead in fifteen minutes.
One hundred forty six,
Mostly young women
Some children and men.
Not all burned, some jumped, some smashed,
as people stood below and watched.
to be continued
JOHN MAKES HIS DEAL
“The Devil,” thought John, “will ultimately lose.
I shall reach my goal,
then cleverly slip loose.”
Oh, John, thought Lord Lucifer, you are not the first
to think you can beat me;
to avoid being cursed.
So it began, the battle to win
against all odds,
despite John’s great sin.
John signed it away, his life and his soul,
thinking he would take it back,
once he reached his greatest goal.
He believed that God would ultimately save him;
assuming that no matter what,
He could keep all his Heavenly Father gave him.
Of course, he was wrong, for God gave him his free will;
free will to choose which ever route
would help him top his hill.
God hoped He would be chosen to help John succeed;
that He would be the inspiring source
to which John would disclose his need.
But God knew with free will, another choice existed;
another choice to help John win,
though that win would end up twisted.
It is not that God stops loving you, when you to Satan turn.
It is only that because He loves,
You have the choice to burn.
So, to the story of John Phillips, already on his way
To winning the ultimate top writing prize,
His soul bargained away.
04/01/18 The beginning…
Anita Shreve has died
She died yesterday, they say.
Her book, The Weight of Water,
brought the murder on the Isles of Shoals
to living, sweating, breathing life.
Her other books, did much the same.
The Pilot’s Wife, from the very beginning,
grabbed your gut, doubling you over just as in the book,
I wish you a good journey to the heavens, Madame,
where your work soars, and to where the hearts of all you touched
with your talent and words lift in thanks for your existence.
You are cured of your cancer, now. You are free of the pain,
and we shall hold you in highest esteem.
Thank God for you!
“Poems from the Book of Hours” exposes Rilke’s soul; his mind, his heart,
all while he declares that should You, God, remove all his parts,
his eyes, his ears, his feet, his arms, his heart, his mind,
still his blood shall embrace Thee; shall carry Thee to the world.
How is it he has such surety when he later asks,
“Was wirst du tun, Gott, wenn ich sterbe?
…nach mir has du kein Haus, darin dich Worte, nah und warm, begruessen…”
What WILL You do? Where will you live, God, when I die?
His questions, and his prayers lead NOT to despair,
but only to the confidence that reasons escape us due to our limited abilities,
which can be stretched, strengthened, expanded until finally all will be clear.
Lord, God, this Holy Season, fill our hearts and minds and souls with joy and knowledge,
that though there be powers beyond our understanding, You are there to guide us to All
It is almost time for the fun to appear
April month brings so much to cheer
Tulips stretch, crocus bloom
Iris yawn, reach to the moon
Apple, and cherry, and plums bud
Rose knees swell, roots in the mud
And amidst it all, our racing hearts
on April first National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) starts!
Carol and Gary went a travelin’
Just when their careers were unravelin’
Now they’ve been at it for two full years
Seein’ all the sights way far and real near
RVing the highways, smooth and gravelin’
She plays at the screen ad nauseam,
choosing it o’er the gymnasium.
She reasons with glee,
that for a small fee,
somebody would say she’s not lazy…uhm…
3/26/18 rJo Herman