From the day I was conceived God had for me a plan - He wanted me to get involved to help
my fellow man - I know some were against it but God knows what is best - Since the day He
took me home I've had perfect rest - Heaven is so beautiful - I'm walking streets of gold and
now I'm serving others including saints of old - I know some still have anger about the way I
died but God and I both have seen the many tears you've cried - He is a God of comfort - His
love will never cease - Give your feelings to Him and He will give you peace - As painful as I
know it is please don't hold a grudge - Remember this my loved ones - God alone will judge
Then on that resurrection day when all the dead will rise - The Lord will reunite us together in
the skies - So don't give up dear friends - my memory is alive - Put your trust in the Lord
and I know you will survive.
In Memory Of All Fallen Soldiers, Police and Firefighters
ODE TO MY FRIESLAND
When I was four years old-- like pebbles-- I collected stories
Seeking out the old folks’ home was my treasure trove of glories
Wondrous memories they’d reveal if I would rockaway some time
And the hostess of high tea was the elfin Madame Emma Qvein.
A war had taken all her kin and family fortune turned to dust
But never could be stolen golden memories in her trust.
Woven in her memory was the charm of Waddenzee
And she bequeathed its salty magic to an eager child like me.
I still hear the shouts of fishermen duel the flapping fresh bleached sails
As off they chased their fortune at the whimsy of the whales.
Though fifty years passed before my toes embraced that rocky sand
Hand in hand as little girls we watched the sun rise o'er her land.
February 7, 2014
Dark, enigmatic, created world
The natural realm of fairies and elves
Visited untimely by children of men
Heroes, saviors, and spirits undone
Fantasy lives inhumanly lost
Behind unsung valorous deeds
Smoky breathed creatures of tooth and scale
Crossing the boundaries of nearly impossible
Slain by strange power
Destroyed by bright courage
In fiery desperation wrought
Lo, where are the dragons now.
Dedicated to every young man bestowed the honor of wearing
the glorious Oklahoma Sooners' Crimson & Cream
Over sixty years, boy and man, I have been a Sooners fan;
And always hoped to be among the truest in the stands.
And while I don’t remember all the Players’ names,
They’re my Heroes, each and every one, because they play the game.
When they’re on the field of battle, my Sooners surely give their all;
And when they’re on the sidelines, just waiting for a Coach’s call;
Visions of Glory must be dancing in their heads;
The Glory of the moment and our cheers, the Glory of playing for
the mighty Big Red.
And for those Sooners who rarely played, whose names were
known only by a few,
Make no mistake my friend, each of them is my Hero too.
Like Soldiers waiting in the ranks, but never called to fight,
They ‘re ready and they’re willing, their spirit and their sacrifice
add to Big Red’s might.
I stand in awe of Sooner Magic. No, I never doubt it.
My Sooners could have never won so many Championships without it.
But don’t misunderstand when I say Sooner Magic won those games;
It was Sooners players who, once again, rose to the occasion and
glorified the name.
Sixty years of college football and my Sooners have won the most.
Their fierce pride and performance inspire this simple toast:
“My Sooners Team goes on and on, different faces, different names;
But my Heroes, Each and Every one, for win or lose…
They play the game.
ye lamhe ye yaade ankho me basa ke,
tum to chale jaoge apne din ajmake,
teri yaad reh jayegi in nam ankho me,
tere pyar bhare jajbat chalak ayenge tanha rahon me.......
wo yaro ki batein,wo apas ka pyar,
kav mitha to kav kadwa sa takrar,
wo roommate se jhagadna,
phir usipe hak se rob jhadna,
wo warden aunty ki dant,
phir unpar makkhan bhari baton ki barsat,
wo rat rat bhar gappe ladana,
or class me late attendance banwana,
class me lectures se jyada teachers ki harkaton pe dhyan dena,
or hostels akar unki khilli udana(kehna yaar unka lecture to kuch palle hi nahi padta),
wo exam ke 1 din pehle xerox ke liye jhagadna,
or na chahte hue v doston ke ache marks ane pe khush hona,
wo sixth sem ke result ka ana,
or ek taraf supersenior hone ki khushi
to dusri taraf college chodne ke gam ka satana....
ab wo farewell party ki rat or masti ki barsat,
ankho me chalke ansu or hothon ki muskan kam,
ye sb yaad kr lena tum,
jab kav lage tumhe apne jivan me hasin pal kam..........
ye hai humare college ki choti si duniya ki choti si kahani kasamagam......
You stand there oh so tall,
bringing shame to those
who came before you
and still you expose
Their greatest weakness
is that they can’t compare
to your silhouette
and no it’s not fair.
They try to make me happy,
thinking maybe one day
she’ll see through this shell and
see the color beyond this grey.
Sadly, they are mistaken
there is no other that can make
my heart a broken record
and still I find it breaks.
a golden mane,
my eyes are blurred
I forgot your name.
Like Atlas you grasp
my world in your palm
I sing of you now and then
as though you were a psalm.
You’ll always be there.
Never will you leave,
the magical memory
Oh how I wish
I could set free
the native American Indian
with pride and dignity
taking them back
across the great open plains
to their sacred home
in the lush green vallies
where buffalo are plentiful
so the Indians can live in peace
one with nature once more
where the eagles soar
setting them free as the wind
wild untameable as a magnificent stallion
running toward the setting sun.
I just wanted to let you know
That I have this love for you...
Although I'm not fast to show
For you, there's nothing I wouldn't do
And I can't control this love
No matter what I try to do...
While I know our lives are separating
Which has got me pretty blue
I just want you to know
How much I love you...
Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved
Oh how I still see you every night in my mind
You're the best girl I feel I'll ever find
And when my eyes would fall upon your smile
My heart would be put on trial
And so if nothing else, I want to let you know
That I'll always love you, that my hearts beat
For you, won't ever slow...
Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved
So I wish you happiness beyond compare
And sorry for the times I couldn't help but stare
Caring, passionate, smart, and loving
From my heart, to you, I'll never be shoving
You will always be in my heart
No matter where we go, how far we drift apart...
Goodbye My Love...
Now when I think of you
I remember the last years
You helped me to recover
A place I never could have reached
Showing me the true love of my mother
No matter how hard I pushed away
By my side you would stay
You helped through my hardest time
Forgiving my life's mistakes
Devoted yourself to my recovery
We grew closer than I ever remember
We had moments together
That will last forever
I still can't believe
When I recovered
The fatal illness
You were diagnosed
That would take you from us
But my memories will never be taken
As I pass the cemetery walls
To see your final resting place
You will always be on my mind
Kneeling here I think...
Are you watching over me
From someplace far beyond
Ode to the Netherlands
Oh, Netherlands, I remember you well
the beautiful cities I came to know
Brukelen, Haarlem, Utrecht and Zeist
as a younger man in search of lore
the blue canals along the street
the Amsterdam bistros where people meet
my nederlandse friends and Indonische love
a culture blended with the best of beers
Is it the same as I recall
when Queen Juliana ruled with great aplomb
in the fifty six years I have been there since
bloom on forever , Oh, Kuekenhof
and flow on, Oh, Zuiderzee
My heart will always be with thee
THE SIMPLE JOY OF ART
When eyes delight upon a work of Michelangelo—gut grinding art--
Creation by a mere man, from his enchanted hands
explode results of David –perhaps a heavenly message to impart
To the earthbound, scattered world flung far in lands
mountain wrapped, plain dirt plains or seabound rocky shores.
Vagabonds, they come to marvel by foot or cart. In awe they stand
before the stone made man. Walking through the door,
drawn to David’s splendid daunting beauty—his far gaze
imparts to the viewer-- in that instant, in this life there is nothing more
of beauty needed to be seen. Years pass, nights will follow days
yet thoughts of this wondrous creature never waiver, never fade
but haunt delightedly like a nightlight in the darkness. What manner is there to praise
the artist for a gift so long lasting? Repeated thoughts played
reflecting David's beauty --and played again—durable throughout the years,
Clarified and Magnified in time, not diminished--when mind is disarrayed
suddenly a glimpse will flash—through grief’s unbidden tears
David will stand in mind’s eye, unchanged , ever manly strong--
beauty possible by stone conscience unblemished by dreadful acts or craven fears.
Thus it is --creation of a man who does no wrong.
Perhaps it is the reason Heaven's blessed the world with Art
which reaches all-- both rich and poor--announces to the throngs--
Look to men of stone to find the rare and pure of heart.
Victoria Anderson-Throop ©
Called to me… before
…Ever had a chance
…Left its mark on me.
Claiming my soul as its own
Snuffing that glorious spark
That never grew.
Leaving nothing left
For this world
But a hollow vessel
That this world
Has filled with sorrow.
Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.
Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.
Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.
Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.
My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.
Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.
Phantom toe. Phantom toe. Where art thou? It used to be there. You still cause me pain but don't exist. A faint memory or a mystery....I ponder this at times. Seems 10 toed brothers refuse to understand the perplexity. Their loss. My loss.
The passion of the soul
there is no stronger force
that surges through our veins
alive in breathless winds
and gentle seas
the spirit soars
but living strong within our hearts
For the passing of a young man passionate for life, sea and surf...
and my son's childhood friend...
An ode to.......
Drifting through my mind like an elemental
You seem a waking dream of color and light
The moments are spontaneous and incidental
Only remnants illuminated particles of plight
Devastation it lingers the pain is instrumental
Spasms scarring and blurring my vision white
Mingled with words the effects detrimental
The breath of reason with wings take flight
Leaving my dreamlike thoughts fragmental
The days bleed and fuse to the dark of night
The voices lost in anger always judgmental
Lingering in confusion and madness in delight
Jealousy burns the soul but only incremental
Eternal seems the burden internal is the fight
The scope of my part denial is monumental
Truth to me is a dream no longer in my sight
The intent not intended the result accidental
Sadness weighed heavy with a warriors might
My young heart was scared and temperamental
In my leaving in my heart I know I wasn’t right
Years stream by our love glows in the sentimental
Its resonance beckons memories of you held tight
Heartfelt lush dreams of our love transcendental
Longing from afar as my words fade like candlelight
Do you want to hear a story, perhaps an anecdote or two . . .
There is a place to do it, when life caves in on you.
There is a group of people who share their lives today . . .
I found them only by happy circumstance, as I was traveling this way.
They get together once a month, to tell tales of their past . . .
Each one in their particular way have stories that will last.
Each one could talk for hours on end, and there would be no lulls . . .
For the times and places they have been, are etched upon their souls.
Their pleasure in remembering is a joy to all who hear . . .
We like to listen to the tales they tell, they give us all a cheer.
The lives they have led, the people they've known, the places they've been to . . .
Are celebrated with us each month, as if we'd been there too.
The moments in time that in our hasty lives, we often will forget . . .
Are cherished now as memories, especially the ones we seem to fret.
Memories, I know, are not for us alone and need to be shared . . .
Even the ones we don't want to think on, the ones that made us scared.
The stories they share with us are not just a reason for rhyme . . .
But I wanted each of them to know, how much I enjoy this time.
Because of them, I have remembered so many things of my own past . . .
Times that I'd forgotten, but have come back to me at last.
The darkest corners of memory are brightened by their chat . . .
I, for one, know I will always be grateful for that.
Our thought are put in new perspective - even the darkest ones we save . . .
But however dark and grim they are, as memories they behave.
To all the MEMORY MAKERS present and past who grace us all this way . . .
This rhyme is for you, "Thank You" for sharing your lives with us, past, present, and today.
We were all saddened to learn of the death this week of one of our hardest working citizens. SOMEONE ELSE. When SOMEONE ELSE died it created a huge void in our community that will be difficult to fill. SOMEONE ELSE was with us for many years. SOMEONE ELSE always did far more than a normal person's share of the work. Whenever there was a job to do, overtime to pull, or a meeting to attend. One name was always on everyone's lips. "Let SOMEONE ELSE do it". Whenever there was a need everyone just assumed that SOMEONE ELSE would volunteer. It was common knowledge that SOMEONE ELSE was the hardest worker in our community. SOMEONE ELSE was a wonderful person who often appeared superhuman. In all honesty. Everyone expected to much of SOMEONE ELSE. So now that SOMEONE ELSE is gone, what will happen to our schools, our children, our churches, our community. SOMEONE ELSE left a marvelous example for us to follow. But now who is going to do the work SOMEONE ELSE did. Will it be you. Or will it be SOMEONE ELSE. c. Rodney Mendoza