Stranded

Stranded in shelter,

Thirsty and hungry.

No electricity.

Nobody around.

Can you imagine

The devastation?

Can you see

The predicament I’m in?

I don’t know

How I’ll make it.

I don’t know

Where to go.

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Making Peace

Miles of smiles cramp my style.

I sing because I’m drunk, I say.

Nothing to worry about.

The same old message, coming clean.

The same old, same old everything.

Can you tell I’d rather be there?

Can you see the when and the where?

I care about her much,

All her loved ones and such.

I am just not in synch.

I’m trailing badly. That’s what I think.

If you’ve got a bit of luck,

You can help me get unstuck.

If you think that there is hope

I’ll be gliding down a slope.

I will trust the good God’s keeping.

You won’t catch me if I’m weeping.

I’ll make sure there is a gift.

It’s such a thrill. My face will lift.

We’ll provide a settlement.

Would you like a candy spearmint?

Poetry is Not the Giving Tree

Chillin’ in my chair,
Trying not to stare
Into the distance
As I feel my stance

Wobbly beneath me.
A busy day, costly
To my mind and body.
But brings home for thrifty

Purchases of necessities.
Do you blame me
For leaving early
Today? Every

Day, I give my energy
To my company,
Hell or high sea.
Sometimes I see

How it rearranges me.
I wonder if there could be
Some other job for me,
But it’s not likely.

So, even though
I don’t say no
To opportunity,
My situation tires me.

Could there be
Another way for me
To make money?
Poetry is not the Giving Tree

That I wish it could be.
Skeptically,
You look at me,
Saying, “But it could be!”

Oh, Poetry!
How you edify me!
But you don’t feed me.
Slinking slowly

Out of reality,
I have a fantasy
Of how it could be,
But, alas, I am not free

To write constantly.
I must work to see
My paycheck biweekly
Deposited, usually.

So you ask me,
“Don’t you want to be
All that you could be?”
It is enough for me

To pay my usury.
My creditors love me
For my money,
Not my poetry!

Renewed

Thunder crashes,
Lightning flashes,
Mother Nature
Says hello.

In my quiet home,
I sit absolutely still,
And watch
And listen to the rain.

Funny how,
Sometimes,
Life can be so peaceful,
And yet, so full of tension.

We fight against
The coming tide
Of life as usual, that is,
Pain and struggle

To overcome
The challenges
That come before us
On a daily basis,

All the time
We seek to draw
Strength
From deep inside,

From an endless
Flowing river
Of peace
And tranquility.

And yet,
Sometimes,
That river of power
Becomes blocked

By worries,
By doubts,
By discouragement.
It is in those times

Of difficulty,
If we are wise,
We stop and watch,
And listen

To the thunder
Of holiness,
The lightning
Of sacrifice,

And the merciful
Raindrops
Of ever flowing,
Beautiful Grace.

When we do this,
Our hearts,
Our minds,
And our bodies

Become renewed
With a wonderful
Power of light
And blessing.

We can look
Our pain and struggle
In the face again,
And smile.

Renewed

Thunder crashes,
Lightning flashes,
Mother Nature
Says hello.

In my quiet home,
I sit absolutely still,
And watch
And listen to the rain.

Funny how,
Sometimes,
Life can be so peaceful,
And yet, so full of tension.

We fight against
The coming tide
Of life as usual, that is,
Pain and struggle

To overcome
The challenges
That come before us
On a daily basis,

All the time
We seek to draw
Strength
From deep inside,

From an endless
Flowing river
Of peace
And tranquility.

And yet,
Sometimes,
That river of power
Becomes blocked

By worries,
By doubts,
By discouragement.
It is in those times

Of difficulty,
If we are wise,
We stop and watch,
And listen

To the thunder
Of holiness,
The lightning
Of sacrifice,

And the merciful
Raindrops
Of ever flowing,
Beautiful Grace.

When we do this,
Our hearts,
Our minds,
And our bodies

Become renewed
With a wonderful
Power of light
And blessing.

We can look
Our pain and struggle
In the face again,
And smile.

Summertime (ch. 3)

A garden shed
Image via Wikipedia

Stephen was glad that it was summertime.  Although he was smart enough for his classes, he always wanted to do things differently
than his teachers told him to do, so his grades were pretty low.  Also, sometimes the music in his head would distract him to the point that he couldn’t concentrate on anything.  When the music started, his mind was enraptured, totally held captive.  It was like a physical journey that took exertion and stamina.  But Stephen was not in control, he just had
to keep up.  Otherwise, he was dragged along in utter confusion.  If he paid attention to it, it led him to some interesting places.  And he got some of his best ideas after listening to the music.  He had talent,
it just didn’t fit in with the syllabus, or even the curriculum.

 

After mowing the lawn, Stephen decided to take a ride on his bike.  His dad made sure he always kept his bike in the shed in the back yard so it wouldn’t be as tempting to be stolen.  So, Stephen headed out the back door and into the back yard.  Luckily, his dad didn’t keep the shed locked, so Stephen opened the door without any trouble.  But then came the trick, because that shed was stuffed so full of “junk”, mostly woodworking tools and materials, that getting to Stephen’s bike hanging on the wall was always an effort.  Stephen had one thing in his favor, he was very tall for his age of fourteen.  With a little stretching and bending, he grabbed his bike and pulled it up and over all the junk.  Then he was on his way out of the shed, across the back yard, and through the gate.  All he had to do then was cross the front
yard.  He approached the street while looking both ways, hopped on his bike, and took off down the edge of the street as fast as he could.

Wild Solutions (ch. 2)

Second family of solutions for the concentric ...
Image via Wikipedia

Stephen felt his feet getting a bit too hot and realized he had been walking a long time.  His turn toward painful memories had given him an even worse headache, and he decided to head back home. When he walked up the path to his door, his mother met him there and made a

crinched-up face before whining, “I told you yesterday that you were to mow the lawn today, and it’s getting hotter by the minute!” Stephen

wasn’t worried. Little things like this he could take in stride.  He said calmly”No problem, Mom, I’ll get right on it. I just need to change clothes.” His mom was satisfied and Stephen headed inside and down the hall to his room.

”My room,” Stephen thought, “the one place I can be myself.” Stephen looked up above his meager bed to what was tacked up on the wall above it: Plans. Plans to solve some pretty heady problems.

but it wasn’t just the problems. It was the solutions, the wild solutions!

Seasons

Waste collection vehicle operating in the stre...
Image via Wikipedia

Couch potato meets samurai.

Postman meets iron man.

Administrator meets sanitation worker.

 

Contrasts in physical attributes.

Perhaps lifestyles, philosophies, sanitation

Relationships, goals,spirituality.

 

Achievements, awards, recognition.

There’s a lot of grey area for some.

For others, a rock-hard stop where they stand.

So what is the great evener?

 

What shows us all that we are the same

When it comes down to it, in the end?

It’s the rhythmn and the constancy

of the seasons.  They come every year,

putting nature, and us, at their mercy.

So what of us? Are we too big, too anything,

to defy the forces of nature?