Misdirected Penguin

This poem is one I wrote for the 100 Thousand Poets for Change event, but did not read (figured it might be too esoteric for some reason). I'm posting it in response to something that Phillip Larrea shared on Facebook today...and I then shared with my friends - there goes that Breck commercial running through my head again!

A misdirected penguin

Polar bears losing their ice

Odd weather patterns

All warnings we refuse to heed

How does the future

Keep on shining in the dark

Darkness caused by greed?

Good shepherds? Not us

In our gods we do not trust

But rather we devour

The golden calf’s false power

Thereby hastening the hour

Of our own species’ demise

We hasten also

The hour of our world’s demise

By being thusly unwise

Why do we life forsake?

Two Poems that Touch My Soul

Since this blog is about poetry - not necessarily just my poetry - I am sharing these two poems that have touched my soul and set off my activist heart again. They help fuel my passion for reminding us all that we are human beings first and all else - all else - comes second!

The first is attributed to Martin Niemeuller (the "eu" should be "oo" with the umlat) regarding the lack of activity in reaction to the Nazi acts of purging in Germany. It really doesn't have a title per se, other than "First they came for..."

First they came for the communists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist

Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist

Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew

Then they came for me,
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

The second is one I discovered researching the previous one - it is called The Hangman by Maurice Ogden, written in 1951. A short animated film was made of this in 1964, and was co-winner of the Silver Sail award at the Locarno International Film Festival the same year.

1.
Into our town the Hangman came,
Smelling of gold and blood and flame.
And he paced our bricks with a diffident air,
And built his frame in the courthouse square.

The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
Only as wide as the door was wide;
A frame as tall, or little more,
Than the capping sill of the courthouse door.

And we wondered, whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal, what the crime
That the Hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.

And innocent though we were, with dread,
We passed those eyes of buckshot lead --
Till one cried: "Hangman, who is he
For whom you raised the gallows-tree?"

Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
And he gave us a riddle instead of reply:
"He who serves me best," said he,
"Shall earn the rope of the gallows-tree."

And he stepped down, and laid his hand
On a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for another's grief
At the Hangman's hand was our relief

And the gallows-frame on the courthouse lawn
By tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way, and no one spoke,
Out of respect for his Hangman's cloak.

2.
The next day's sun looked mildly down
On roof and street in our quiet town,
And stark and black in the morning air
Was the gallows-tree in the courthouse square.

And the Hangman stood at his usual stand
With the yellow hemp in his busy hand;
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike
And his air so knowing and business-like.

And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done
Yesterday, with the foreign one?"
Then we fell silent, and stood amazed,
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."

He laughed a laugh as he looked at us:
"Did you think I'd gone to all this fuss
To hang one man? That's a thing I do
To stretch a rope when the rope is new."

Then one cried "Murder!" and one cried "Shame!"
And into our midst the Hangman came
To that man's place. "Do you hold," said he,
"with him that was meant for the gallows-tree?"

And he laid his hand on that one's arm.
And we shrank back in quick alarm!
And we gave him way, and no one spoke
Out of fear of his Hangman's cloak.

That night we saw with dread surprise
The Hangman's scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
The gallows-tree had taken root;

Now as wide, or a little more,
Than the steps that led to the courthouse door,
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
Halfway up on the courthouse wall.

3.
The third he took -- we had all heard tell --
Was a usurer, and an infidel.
"What," said the Hangman "have you to do
With the gallows-bound, and he a Jew?"

And we cried out, "Is this one he
Who has served you well and faithfully?"
The Hangman smiled: "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows-beam."

The fourth man's dark, accusing song
Had scratched our comfort hard and long;
"And what concern," he gave us back.
"Have you for the doomed -- the doomed and Black?"

The fifth. The sixth. And we cried again,
"Hangman, Hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick," he said. "that we hangmen know
For easing the trap when the trap springs slow."

And so we ceased, and asked no more,
As the Hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night,
The gallows grew to monstrous height.

The wings of the scaffold opened wide
Till they covered the square from side to side;
And the monster cross-beam, looking down,
Cast its shadow across the town.

4.
Then through the town the Hangman came,
Through the empty streets, and called my name --
And I looked at the gallows soaring tall,
And thought, "There is no one left at all

For hanging, and so he calls to me
To help pull down the gallows-tree."
So I went out with right good hope
To the Hangman's tree and the Hangman's rope.

He smiled at me as I came down
To the courthouse square through the silent town.
And supple and stretched in his busy hand
Was the yellow twist of the hempen strand.

And he whistled his tune as he tried the trap,
And it sprang down with a ready snap --
And then with a smile of awful command
He laid his hand upon my hand.

"You tricked me. Hangman!," I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men...
And I no henchman of yours," I cried,
"You lied to me, Hangman. Foully lied!"

Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
"Lied to you? Tricked you?" he said. "Not I.
For I answered straight and I told you true --
The scaffold was raised for none but you.

For who has served me more faithfully
Then you with your coward's hope?" said he,
"And where are the others who might have stood
Side by your side in the common good?"

"Dead," I whispered. And amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me:
"First the foreigner, then the Jew...
I did no more than you let me do."

Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
None had stood so alone as I.
The Hangman noosed me, and no voice there
Cried "Stop!" for me in the empty square.

Wow - I hope they are as powerful and touching to you as they are to me.

Oh Look - New Stuff!

It has been even longer since I posted on this blog than my usual one...I haven't stopped writing poetry though. I even wrote some for a particular event that happened yesterday in 95 countries around the world - 100 Thousand Poets for Change!

Here is the poem I read at the open mic opportunity during this event - it is as yet untitled:

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself

FDR said that on the day last century

That will live in infamy

In turn, we dropped the bomb

That ushered in the nuclear age

And have been living in fear ever since

I remember, even in the 1970s,

Air raid sirens, crouching under desks

In darkened classrooms with curtains drawn

Then the Iron Curtain fell,

And the Berlin Wall came down

Then Iran took 52 of our people

Hostage for 444 days

Then Pan Am 103 went down

Over the skies of Lockerbie, Scotland

Then the first failed attempt to take

Down the World Trade Center

From its garage

Then the Oklahoma City bombing

Brought on by one of our own

Then the sarin gas attack in

A Japanese subway

Then this century’s day that will live in infamy

September 11^th, 2001

The day the planes flew into the Twin Towers and the Pentagon

Both icons of our military-industrial complex

The one Dwight D. Eisenhower warned us about 40 years earlier

That day was also my youngest son’s ninth birthday,

And the day my then 15 year-old daughter made me

Realize that by huddling in fear, we miss the joy in life

That day and every September 11^th since,

We focus on life, the life of my youngest son,

And the lives of all human beings who share this big blue ball

Called Earth as our home

Author's Bio

Had a requirement to submit a link to my bio with a current submission, so figured I'd post it here with my poetry blog...

Beth Henderson writes poetry, fiction, and the occasional essay. She also loves to take photos of things that catch her eye and inspire her. And she enjoys music, dancing, cycling and hiking along the rivers and creeks of Northern California. The sound of water is second only to the sound of birdsong as the most beautiful sound in nature in her mind.

You can follow her other blog at http://bethane13.blogspot.com/

You can find her books and such at http://stores.lulu.com/bethane41

Blue Birds in Bloom - 30 Apr 11

Tom Hoffman, proprietor of Heritage Oak Winery in Lodi, CA, has helped the blue bird population there recover and thrive by putting blue bird boxes up all over his property. The European starlings that were brought over as song birds in the 1800s quickly spread across the continent, displacing many of our smaller native birds from their natural nesting areas. The starling cannot get through the hole in the blue bird box to make it's nest there, although, other bird species such as the house sparrow and the tree swallow, and even an acorn woodpecker, can.

So this poem, with the accompanying pictures, is a tribute to Tom and all the other folks across our lands who work to preserve the native habitats and species for now and into the future.


Blue Birds In Bloom

They fly back from their winter vacation,
rested and looking for a new home

She's the picky one, dragging him from
bird box to bird box, until she finds just
the right one

You can almost here the conversation
Him: But, honey, what's wrong with this one?
Her: It's too close to those house sparrows

Finally, they settle in, building their neat little nest
from twigs and such, all uniform size
not like those messy tree swallows

They lay their eggs, all pretty blue ones, and
share the duties of raising the young

By fall they have left once more for their
winter vacation home

Next spring, they'll do this all again!

It's Clutch Time! - 30 Apr 11

This is a tree swallow making his abode this season in a blue bird box on the Heritage Oak Winery property in Lodi, CA. I love to watch swallows fly - their shape when their wings are extended in flight reminds me of a boomerang!

It's Clutch Time!

Thank goodness for the human
who put up this nest box
We found it ready to move in!

It's really nice and cozy and
we've already put in the nest
and laid our eggs

The missus is out enjoying some
"me" time, and I'm at home
keeping the eggs warm

We're the next to the last box
on the block, before you turn
to go to the river

Great place to raise kids
very diverse neighborhood

Blue birds and house sparrows mostly
on our row, although an acorn woodpecker
moved in to the last box nearest the trees
and laid her eggs without even putting in
a nest! Imagine that!

We'll have to wary of the newest neighbor
even though she's a few blocks over in the
big trees - she's a Great Horned Owl of the
Western Taiga variety!

As long as the kidlets come home by dark
they'll be okay...

Last Day - National Poetry Month 2011

And so the thirty days doth come to an end, my friends. This blog will go on, but not likely at the rate of a poem a day. Thank you for taking the time to read my scribblings, and to those you have commented/complimented/provided constructive criticism/or just your opinion on the art of poetry as a whole - thank you a million times! I am honored by your acknowledgment of my work!

And so, today's posts (and yes, that is posts - plural) will share the remainder of the poems I wrote this month, beginning with the one that goes with the main photo on the blog.

This photo was taken in Travemuende on the German coast of the Baltic Sea (that is supposed to be a "u" with an umlaut - those two dots over the vowel). I took the picture thinking the two chicks were absolutely adorable, not knowing that they grow up to be seagulls, those raucous, annoying birds who are brazen enough to attempt to steal my lunch when I'm eating out on the Wharf in San Francisco (granted these are European seagulls and might have more class but stilll...)!

Children of the Gulls

Regardless of popular belief
we don't come from rookeries
on islands way out to sea

Our parents nest in colonies,
large groups, much like you
and share the tasks of
warming the eggs and
raising the young

We have learned much
from our interactions
with humankind

Did you know you
taught us how to
fish by casting
bread upon the water?

And like you,
our young start out
all cute and cuddly
and fuzzy

Then grow up to
be raucous, grasping,
greedy creatures

That is our nature

Is it truly yours?

The Rooster of Old Fair Oaks - 29 Apr 11

This fine piece of art sits at the corner of Hazel Avenue and Madison Avenue near the town of Fair Oaks in Sacramento County. Old Fair Oaks holds a chicken festival each fall to honor the feral chickens that live in the two parks there and roam the streets at will.

The Rooster of Fair Oaks

This masculine specimen of
feral poultry leads his family
as they wander the parks and
byways of the village of fair
Fair Oaks

He struts across the patio of
the famed Slocum House
leading his hens and their
string of chicks
as the diners in their evening
finery gawk in awe
at the brazenness of these feral fowl

He is such the Burgher of the town
that he lends is voice to that of the
officiant performing outdoor
weddings at the VFW Hall

This fowl is so adored that the
village of fair Fair Oaks erected
a gleaming silver statue in
his honor, and has a festival
each fall to celebrate the great Rooster
and his family of audacious poultry!

Meri and the Pretty Predator - 28 Apr 11

We have probably as many praying mantises as we do grasshoppers as the weather warms up...however, my kitty found out the hard way you don't mess with a praying mantis - wish I had the pictures from THAT encounter!

Leave Me Be!

Kitty bats at me
I fly up, bite her on nose
Kitty leaves me be

And for those who haven't seen pictures of my kitty yet...

Grasshoppers and Cats - 27 Apr 11

This is from last summer, before we changed out the carpet for tile. Sushi, our male cat, is studiously ignoring the grasshopper that Meri, our female cat, brought and and partially de-legged. During the summer you never know where these little guys will end up - on the screen, on the door frames, on the baskets on top of the refrigerator - I scold Meri a lot about bringing her pets inside!

Grasshopper and Cats

She takes off my leg
and He ignores my presence
Mama puts me out
and She brings me back inside
such is summer life with cats

The Crow of Yosemite - 27 Apr 11 (second offering)

This was taken at the picnic area near the trailhead to the lower Yosemite Falls in October 2010. This was one very patient crow!

The Crow of Yosemite

Sitting sentinel
upon his post he eyes me
and he eyes my lunch

just a look, a look
still sitting upon his post
he eyes, eyes my lunch

quite the gentleman
after I leave the table
he swoops in, cleans up

The Carp of Kemnath - 26 Apr 11

These pictures are from the Phantastischer Karpfenweg in Kemnath, Bavaria, Germany that we attended in the summer of 2008.


The Carp of Kemnath

The carp have fed them
for over one thousand years
in the small village

So the artists here
do pay homage to the carp
by sharing their art

With the fish motif
art links the present to past
and life to water

Honoring the carp
and preserving the lifestyle
into the future

A Tale of Two Cabins - 25 Apr 11

These are photos I took with my iPhone during Party Pardee - a bike ride near Lakes Camanche and Pardee in Amador County - back on the 2nd of April this year.


A Tale of Two Cabins

Cabins abandoned
in a rural area
one of wood, one stone
Where did their people go to?
Why did their people move on?

Separate, We Lose - 24 Apr 11

As I ponder the various religions and divisions - thoughts that always come up around the holidays, particularly ones that are supposed to be joyous in nature - here is the offering for today:

Separate We Lose

This time of year
is a time for renewal
not of destruction

So why do we work
against each other instead
of to the same goal?

Your God, my Goddess
what is the true difference?
We are all the same

We are human first
all else is secondary
why do we still fight?

Shared burden is less
than separate burdens are
together we win

Separate we lose
and so too does the future,
that of our children

The choice is ours, as always
that is the price and ponderance
of having free will

23 Apr 11 - Bird Courtship

Today was the monthly birdwalk at Heritage Oak Winery. It's is nesting season, and watching the various species go through their courtship rituals. The pictures above are of Brewer's blackbirds, a male and a female. The poem below shares what we watched unfold...


Bird Courtship

The drab female Brewer's blackbird shows
her interest in finding a mate
by gathering nesting material in her beak
and settling back to wait

Two shiny black males vie for her attention
they plumb and preen and pose and strut

Which one will she chose?

Earth Day - 22 Apr 11

Yes, I missed yesterday altogether - I will write two poems one day this weekend to make up though. My goal is 30 poems in 30 days and I will make that by month's end.

Today is Earth Day, first celebrated in 1970, and as I look around I think Man has created more destruction and poisoning of the planet that hold our lives in Her hands then moving back to connection with the natural world in the years since.

With that in mind, here is today's offering


An Ethical Life

Sitting outside on this April day reading The Sun
on Earth Day, an interview with a man named Singer
on how to live an ethical life leads

And leaves me cold, thoughts chilled by the
potential effects of his utilitarian pragmatism

I agree we are stewards of the Earth and all the
denizens that dwell there on and therein and that
stewardship has many facets and phases

However, I do believe every being, every item
inert or alive, animal, mineral or vegetable
has a purpose and a reason for being

I also believe that plants and animals alike
were put here for our use,
our responsible use

Rules of such use are laid out in many
ancient texts, and if you look at the rules
you can see the reasoning behind them
despite the age of the information

We humans are one part of a much larger ecosystem
one we are destroying with our technological way of life

We create more poisons than we can mitigate
with our machinery and our diet of choice

Our planet is tipping out of balance due to our behavior
and soon She will make the decision to move back
into balance by force if necessary, if She still can

And as I close, I shake my head at my neighbor who
shows just how disconnected from the natural world
we have become just since the first Earth Day
was celebrated before he was born

He could not tell by the feel of the air around him
that rain was not threatening today, for all there
are clouds flowing overhead on their way
to the mountains

He probably flipped open his iPad to check
the weather app, since he is too disconnected from
Mother Earth rely on his own human instincts

20 Apr 11 - Surviving the Interview

No, this was not my experience this time - I have had interviews like this in the past though...


Surviving the Interview

The stress of an interview
a panel of people peering at you
as if you were something foreign,
asking you questions that may
or may not be relevant to the position
you thought you applied for, but now
wonder if you read the posting right

The most dreaded question of all
please describe your strengths and weaknesses

What I do well, people compliment me on
so I assume that's a strength

That's the easy part of the question to answer

Where I trip up - most often from seeing the world
through rose-colored glasses - may qualify as a weakness

But is it really?

And then, moments after you've
entered the elevator
or exited the building
or while you're driving home
or worst yet, at o'dark thirty
when you're dead asleep
you get that head-slapping, stomach-dropping
realization that you totally flubbed an answer
"I should have said this"
"I should have said that"
runs through your mind and you know you've
blown the interview

All you can do is wait for the call, the one where you hear
"Thanks for your interest in this position, but we've selected
someone else"

And hope you get the chance to get feedback on your interview
IF you're brave enough to take it for the sake of getting
future positions of similar caliber

Oh yeah, and remember to send a thank-you card to the
panel lead for giving you the opportunity for the interview

19 Apr 11 - Driving to the City

Came down to SF for an interview - I think my GPS unit is programmed to avoid toll roads - need to fix that today! I saw parts of the Bay area I don't think I've seen since I was little! On to the poem for yesterday (and yes, I'll have another offering later for today...).


Driving to the City

Three and a half hour drive
to the City
Tooling along in the fast lane
staying out of the carpool lane
Fast lane is relevant when
traffic is moving at a snail's pace

Limo driver acting like
a New York cabbie
Rush up on my bumper and expect
me to be intimidated
weaving through traffic like a drunken sailor
rush, brake, rush, brake
will you have a job tomorrow
after you made your celeb spill their drink?

Others also tailgate
to intimidate
give me a break -
I'm still in front of you!

Others slip into that
sacred space
left for safety's sake
foot off the pedal
space back in place

Such is life on the road

18 Apr 11 - The Budget Dilemma

The impetus for this was the news that the Stock Market (Dow Jones) dropped 140 points due to the possibility of the national debt ceiling not being raised.

The Budget Dilemma

Current year budget expend
next year's budget defend
year after next's budget develop

Current year budget
six months late
too much rhetoric and debate
last session's Congress made us wait

Next year's budget
likely again to be late
judging by the aggressive measures
fueling more rhetoric and debate

This session's Congress is one divided
tea-sipping elephants against asses with blinders on
both sides less right, more wrong

Will it end in our country's credit rating swan song?

When will reality sink in
to those who work in
the ivory tower known as
Capitol Hill?

On time you must pass the bills
bills that support the promise of
life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness
bills that provides for the general welfare
of our Nation's citizens
bills that fulfill the promises made to
the Greatest Generation and the generations
they've begot

Otherwise, we'll vote you out - the whole lot!

It Occurs To Me - Villanelle

This is my attempt at a villanelle - 19 lines, two rhymed lines, and two rhymed sounds.

It Occurs To Me

As I sit here
it occurs to me
here in my chair

Life appears to be not fair
and nothing really is free
as I sit here

I ponder the future
where will we all be?
here in my chair

Will we be far or near
sometimes it worries me
as I sit here

Would I give it all here
to truly be me, be free
here in my chair

I lift my face to the air
and give it all to thee
as I sit here
here in my chair

The Bear in the Stream

The photo above is the impetus for the poem today - or at least part of it. I took myself for a hike in Hidden Falls Regional Park in Auburn CA today. It was noisy and peaceful, as only nature can be.

The Bear in the Stream

The sound of water calms me
as it rushes over the rocks

The quiet of the trail
envelops me as I trod along
listening to the sound of the water
sometimes faint, sometimes strong
as the trail winds along

The occasional bird calls
out overhead
and unseen critters rustle
in the bushes on the edge of the trail

I pass a small stream
with a rock that looks like
a bear's head in it.

I stop and take a picture of it,
then look around
knowing bears don't come down this low.

Or do they?

No, they don't, at least not today.

Today was simply water and trail.

Sapphic Verse

Today I tackle Sapphic verse - 11/11/11/5 - syllable count. Another traditional form of poetry. This one was inspired by the events of the day. I rescued a lizard who the cats had brought in - I believe for the third time - sans tail, and put him in the front flower bed this morning. This afternoon, I was out reading a book in the sun, enjoying the warmth, looked over to our planter which is sadly now without a tree rose due to the powerful winds a month or so ago, and said lizard was peeking around the corner. He scuttled out a bit, got scared and went back under the planter. I watched him do this two or three times while I was outside today.

Little Lizard

I rescue a lizard from the house today
The cats brought him in, they thought with him to play
Not today I say as I put him outside
In the front rose bed

I come out to sit, read, and enjoy the sun
The lizard peeks around the planter at me
Now he scuttles forward a bit, still looking
Then creeps out some more

Come to me, little lizard, I will not bite
Unlike the cats who took your tail and caught you
Ah, frightened by the edger, you hide again
Come out tomorrow?

Thursday Night Madness

Play Ball! It's baseball season, and we have a minor league team here - the River Cats! So, one Thursday night a month, we trek down to Old Sacramento, congregate on either the second or third floor of a place called Fanny Ann's, have burgers and beer until about 1815, then trek across the I Street bridge over the Sacramento River to Raley Field to maybe make it to the seventh inning stretch - drinking more beer, reminiscing with our office buddies, and watching a ball game. This week we made it to the fourth inning - the game was 1-0 for the home team!

Here's what came from that experience:

Congregate at Fanny Ann's for burgers and beer
on the second or third floor, listening to the music
sharing stories of the office

At 1815, head down to the I Street Bridge
over the Sacramento River,
and over to Raley Field
quite an entourage at times, walking
from one place to the other

Get our cheap seat tickets
and more beer
head down the third base line to
the tables at the end

When the Star Spangled Banner starts
stand up, hats off, hands on hearts
face the field

Someone then yells, "Play Ball"

Watch for pop flies that come over
the third base line and into
the bleachers

Paul says he's caught six in the last
eleven years

Pete has two

Reminisce about those who have
moved on or retired
or passed away

God rest Lester and his peanuts

Good folks, good times
stories shared, memories made

It was Toga Night
even for Dinger, the mascot

Tankas for the Day

This morning I was pondering tanka - a 5-7-5-7-7 form similar to haiku (5-7-5, about seaons) or senyru (not about seasons, also 5-7-5). Those are syllable counts, by the way.

This is what came of this ponderance after the work day was over...

Based on getting a job interview for what looks to be a very interesting job:

Applying for job
opportunity beckons
getting interview
need to make the most of it
how to make the most of it?

Sitting outside in the sun writing, listening to the sounds of the neighborhood:

Scaling piano
notes drifting from neighbor's house
now playing a song
not one to sing along to
at least no discordant notes

Thinking about various things, past and present in life:

Wanting harmony
understanding, peace and love
having distance,
communication issues
relationships are worth it?

Ah, Yes - Spring has Sprung!

Here is the offering for today...a simple haiku

Spring

Allergies are here
Pollen count is on the rise
Ah yes, Spring is here!

A Chance For Atonement

This is directly related to family issues that cover several generations now...

A Chance For Atonement

Spring, starting anew
forgiveness for all you do
comes atonement too

Atonement means change
it is time to rearrange
first things must come first

Addictions must go
responsibilities stay
and your life goes on

If addictions stay
responsibilities grow
and your life shatters

A life that shatters
with parts glued, cannot be whole
like mirror cracked

Never again whole
for pieces always missing
never found again

Hope atonement comes
responsibility stays
go, addictions, go

False escape fleeting
in morning, problems remain
still have to face pain

True escape takes guts
face to sun, back to others
close door behind you

Never turn around
always face to sun always
one day at a time

One step at a time
out from the abyss you climb
left foot then right foot

Easy, who say so?
but can be done, this I know
face to sun, always

Choosing the Abyss

This came to me as I was pondering the state of affairs across our nation and across the world these days, and my eyes landed on a sticky note with the following saying on it in my office:

If you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you. - Nietzche

Choosing the Abyss

How many abysses
must we look into
during our lifetime?

The abyss of war
The abyss of poverty
The abyss of struggle
The abyss of division

These are the abysses chosen by Man

There are, however, other abysses

The abyss of love
The abyss of enough
The abyss of concord
The abyss of unity

These are the abysses chosen by our Creator

So why then does Man turn away from those which the Creator has chosen?

Why does Man choose

The abyss of want
over
The abyss of enough

The abyss of destruction
over
The abyss of creation

The abyss of division
over
The abyss of unity

The abyss of loneliness
over
The abyss of comfort

Why?

A Challenging Craft

As we near the end of the first third of the month, I find myself challenged to come up with a poem a day. Thank goodness I wasn't trying to come up with a poem a day within a particular theme! I'd be sunk!

So, here is my humble offering for today, about the essence and presence of writing.

A Challenging Craft

Write

So sayeth the Muse

Of what shall I write

I ask

Muse answers

This

That

The other

This or that

Abtract or concrete

Painting pictures

Sharing thoughts

Sometimes messy

Sometimes neat

Staying within form

Or wandering about

Exploring ideas

Pushing boundaries

Challenging processes

Stirring emotions

Broadening horizons

Fanning flames

Or putting them out

This is what writers do

What writing is all about

Awaiting Our Fate

As an employee of the Federal Government, I wait with bated breath to see if Congress can actually due its job and get a budget out this year. Will we have one in place by Monday, or will the economy start taking a minimum additional $1B hit every two weeks until one is passed?

Budget Woes

First proposal set in motion

Near Cupid’s day of emotion

Over summer House and Senate

Review, propose changes and debate

Come fall all their discussion

Has fallen to filibustering

And first continuing resolution

Then come elections

Seats change

As do the power reins

From the asses to the elephants

In the House

Still no budget

Instead

Six more continuing resolutions

We pass Cupid’s day of emotion again

And St Patrick’s Day too

Enough is enough, says the President

As the House tries to pass an eighth

The eleventh hour cometh

And us workerbees wait to hear our fate

Asses and Elephants - 7 Apr 11

I'll let this one speak for itself...

Budget woes

Frozen toes

NIMBY politics

Bunch of flipping hicks

Asses and Elephants

Elephants drinking Tea

Like the Parliament

In the Country

We broke from in 1776

Asses not taking the reins

Not stopping that which

Is clearly insane

We the people

Vote these politicos

In and then

Complain

Year after year

It’s the same old

Refrain

No more gnashing teeth

Nor wringing hands

Let’s join together

Across this land

And make them hear our demands

Or

Vote them out

Vote them out

Vote them out!

Humility - How Loamy is You Soul?

This came to me after reading an article in the April 2011 issue of The Sun called Reading Isaiah in Chiapas by Fred Bahnson.

Remembering that we are

human beings first

and all else after

Remembering that we are

stewards of the Earth

caretakers of Her

and all that dwell

upon and within Her

Remembering that

from Her dust we began

and to Her dust we return

As humus is essential to

the fertility of the soil

so too is humility essential to

the fertility of the soul

5 Apr 11 - Spring is Here

Many of us are blessed (cursed) with seasonal allergies - hayfever - which is starting to rise now that Spring has sprung and things are a'blooming! That is the inspiration for today's haiku-style one stanza poem.

Sneezing symphony
joins coughing cacophony
Ah yes, Spring is Here!

4 Apr 11 Poem - Two Wrongs

The impetus for today's poem came from a publication called The Sun, two stories specifically from the April 2011 issue - okay, one interview - Fighting with Another Purpose, Veteran Paul Chappell on the Need to End War by Leslee Goodman (page 4) and one story - Two Wrongs by Sybil Smith (page 16). These writings, coupled with the fact we are fighting on at least three fronts and cannot even pass a Federal budget this year (or at least that's the way it appears), brought this forth out of my psyche:

Two Wrongs

Two wrongs don’t make a right

Two wrongs make three wrongs

Three wrongs make four

Two wrongs make a war

Outrage turns to anger

Anger acts against another

Second wrong

Act born of ignorance,

Arrogance or greed

First wrong

First seek to understand

The one you call enemy

Instead call him family

First we are all human beings

Second turn outrage

Instead of anger

To peace

Second come from a place of love

Third seek to help

Those in need

Instead of feeding greed

Third love thy neighbor as thyself

Fourth have enough

Enough fills the need

Filled need harbors no greed

Fourth enough is…enough

Savoring the Stillness

Today I move as through water,

slowly,

enjoying the stillness of the day

No neighborhood hustle or bustle

No parents herding children here or there

No lawnmowers or leaf blowers

No hammers or saws

Just birds twittering,

chirping,

singing in the trees

The breeze making music

through the neighborhood windchimes

gently moving leaves,

flowers,

and twigs on the trees,

Making the smaller plants sway to Nature’s music

Sunday Poem Basis

Today is a day to enjoy the stillness. Not a lazy day, and not necessarily a slow day. Just one to stop and listen to Nature and enjoy her music. No pondering of much or mindless repetition - just stop, listen, and enjoy the stillness!

Red-Winged Blackbird

Red-winged blackbird trills

Wind tousles tree leaves, grass blades

Mourning dove does coo

Juncos come and gone

Finches and sparrows have too

Red-winged blackbird stays

Doves here all year round

Red-winged blackbird comes in spring

Flys home in the fall

Sitting in the reeds

Lighting on the tree, the fence

Red-winged blackbird trills

About the next poem

I love red-winged blackbirds, especially listening to them sing in the spring. The population took a serious nose-dive somewhere between the early 1970s - when I used to see them as we were traveling around in our motorhome - and the early 1980s - when I was old enough to drive and see things for myself. Now I live near an ephemeral stream that has reeds in it that the birds like to gather in. They light in our neighbor's tree and on the fence, and start their songs in the spring.

So, inspired by hearing their songs not only where I live, but also while I was out on a bike ride in another county (the bike ride is called Party Pardee, and goes around Pardee Lake) today, I created the poem for today.

It's a set of four haiku-like stanzas, since I love that form, especially for nature-related themes.

Enjoy!

1 April 2011 - Seeking

I seek –

solace, connection, acceptance

from others

I seek –

love, respect, honor, dignity

from myself

I seek to be cherished

To find solace, I must be

the ear

the touch

the soothing words

To find connection, I must

listen

understand

accept

To love, honor, respect, cherish and dignify others

I must first do all that for myself

For

how can I love others

if I do not first love myself?

how can I care for others

if I do not first care for myself?

how can I give solace

if I cannot accept it for myself?

how can I connect

if I do not allow myself to be vulnerable?

All these things I must do for myself

before I can truly do them for others

National Poetry Month 2011

Today is the first day of National Poetry Month, 2011. My challenge to myself is to write either poetry or something poetry-related every day for the month.

My comfort zone is prose - fiction or non - poetry is challenging for me, both to read and to write. However, to grow as an artist and a writer (although a writer is an artist in the truest sense of the word), I must challenge myself and grow in all areas of the craft.

So, here's goes - 30 days of writing and posting poetry and/or musings about poetry.