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Daniel Cwiak Poem
I was blessed to know a woman in my life
Who faced hard times, struggle, and strife.
A Chinese immigrant, she came from a poor town
Lost her husband, was kept from her daughter, but not kept down.
She had three other children who were born here
Getting them a better life was her biggest fear.
She had to fend for herself and them alone you see,
Speaking little of the language in this foreign country.
But, she had always lived a determined life
So she fought back...with a fork and a knife.
She opened a restaurant in a small community
Where her gracious manner made her friends instantly.
Her children would grow up in town with new friends
The restaurant she opened was the mean to her ends.
She worked very hard...sometimes eighteen hours a day
She never complained because that was her way.
Her life's expectations knew more successes sublime
The restaurant grew...one egg roll at a time.
She once told me of the anxiety she felt at the money she'd spent...
Laughing said, "My uncle said sell 2 qts of Chop Suey/Day...you've got the rent."
She was a woman who chose kindness as she felt had to her been shown
To people far and near her generosity was known.
She was thankful that she had the opportunity
To give back with love rather than animosity.
I first met her over some 30 years back
She struck me from the that moment as a person who had the knack
To make others feel at home though strangers they be
She certainly did, because she did it to me.
I still remember her caring for me...it was shown
Once caught in a blizzard, she opened her home.
So often was there a path to this woman's door
Though she stood, less than 5 foot 4.
Her heart was as big and wonderful as one would want
An earthly angel, she was heaven sent.
Though her health began to wane later in life
She never gave in to that world of strife.
Her eyesight began to fail and it was difficult for her to see
But that didn't stop her or her generosity.
She loved people and filled everyone with cheer
Ever thankful that she had had a life here.
Though she is gone I'll never forget her face
Or her love of life, devotion to family, and unstoppable pace.
To me I'll ever be thankful to have had the joy
Of calling her "Ma" ... ONE IN A MILLION~was Connie Moy!
1st Place Winner - "One in a Million" Poetry Contest
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
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Daniel Cwiak Poem
In the 1600's, Europeans lived on the eastern shore
Their numbers grew, they wanted more.
Iroquios, Sauk, Ottawa, and Mohawk were tribes they met
Too many and more, paid our forefathers' debt.
Men moved west thru the Cumberland gap
Daniel Boone led them, wearing a coonskin cap.
Freedom's new country was born in 1776
The indians, however, did not fit our mix.
Lewis and Clark sought a Northwest Passage route
Rivers to cross, mountains to climb, animals to shoot.
An indian girl helped them gain their fame
Sackagewa led them, though few remember her name.
Two years of exploring to the western shore
They brought back tall tales, maps, journals, and more.
With many a tribe did they speak
Here were the Mandan, Ojibway, and Creek.
By 1845 "Manifest Destiny" was the phrase being coined
More indian lands were to be purloined.
In the south, Houston, Austin, and others too
"Texicans" all, under the one star flag they flew.
It was not easy to take Santa Anna"s land
Travis, Bowie, and Crockett went to lend a hand.
They died in a mission on the San Antonio line
Today, "The Alamo" is still their shrine.
Missouri to Kansas to California men went
Their golden passion in mines to vent.
new states joined as the country grew
Lines of covered wagons rolled on anew.
Something was amiss by 1852
Going west now, seemed wrong to do.
The south was rampant with Slavery's scourge
Making men free, would take more that courage.
Lincoln was President, a Civil War, the country bled
Hundreds of Thousands died, eager for it to be shed.
Four years of war, death and destruction
Followed by a euphomistic "Reconstruction".
Names of the west now tripped off the tongue
Dodge, Wichita, Hayes, and Tombstone's tale of the gun.
Hard men faced each other's will
Some of them end...up at "Boot Hill".
Cody, Hickock, Custer, and Earp were names that were said
So were Clanton, the James Boys, Hardin, and Billy the Kid.
The Cherokee and other indians now came into view
Apache, Cheyenne, Commanche, and not least the Sioux.
Pony Express, Overland Stage, Chisholm Trail were names we knew
Moving men and cattle, as the western legends grew.
Then, a seal on the joint was made
At Promontory Point, a golden spike was laid.
The west is part of our unique history
200 years of a nation, men longing to be free.
Listen in the winds around you that blow
Pehaps you will hear it whisper, "Westward Ho!"
God Bless America!!
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
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Daniel Cwiak Poem
Elections are less than a week away
And all the candidates have something to say.
With nervy tenure the ads were on the wing
Tossing the dirt as far and as much as they could fling.
When the signs are all up with their names posted there
I always say..."Voter, Beware!"
It's not their programs that they'll try to move
But the largess in their pockets that they'll try to improve.
I won't say I'm not cynical about election day
I work as a judge during that crazed fray.
Candidates all quote Washington, Jefferson, and Lincoln for sure
It would be better for us, if they knew who they were!
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
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Daniel Cwiak Poem
When I was young and life was easy
I never thought but of the next day.
For the young, things can be so breezy
It is the child's way.
I never thought but of the next day
Until that day came upon me.
It is the child's way
And I did not want to see.
Until that day came upon me
I was carefree like the bird on high.
And I did not want to see
The dark adult horizons that would make me cry.
I was carefree like the bird on high
Only to be trapped by love
The dark adult horizons that would make me cry
Crushing me down from above.
Only to be trapped by love
For the young, things can be so breezy
Crushing me down from above
When I was young and life was easy.
Dan Cwiak ... written for:
Paula Swanson's Pantoum contest
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
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Daniel Cwiak Poem
The date was set and the church booked up
Invitations sent out, colors picked, and a hall for the sup.
The bridesmaids and groomsmen had all been chosen
For the date for us on the calendar was now frozen.
The Maid of Honor could only one person be
The Best Man knew this day would be crazy.
For all of the planning, the work, and the tension
Would culminate in this day of anticipation.
The minister counseled us and helped us to plan
But the burden was on us, for this day to span.
We wanted everyone to be as happy with us today
That's why we took so long to plan it this way.
The floweres trimmed the aisle along the carpet white
While all our family and friends dressed festively tonight.
The music started to play as the couples walked the aisle
I was reminded not to cry, instead to give a big smile.
It was my turn to walk the walk now
"Don't slip, don't trip, don't cause a row.
It's the day of the wedding and there is my peer
One question remains, "What am I doing here?"
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
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Daniel Cwiak Poem
Have you ever really looked at a tree?
Have you ever thought of the ancient roots,
Those that support it ... to behold its majesty?
The boughs and limbs carry leaves oh, so green,
We are again reminded of God's handiwork,
When we see the budding exuberance ... come the early spring.
They make us mindful of beauty by their quiet repose,
They are willowy, and shade us from the harsh summer sun,
Beneath their gentle sways ... we rest comfortably below.
Fall ages them and their greens turn to brown.
As winter's cold blasts blow upon them,
Do we ever feel their plight ... as their leaves tumble down?
Families are a personal and spiritual tree.
Their ancient roots so long ago planted,
Grow in size and shape and form ... in gifted majesty!
Generations of limbs and boughs support the child leaves,
In every new face God's handiwork,
Radiant in the splendor of life ... each one of us receives.
Time slowly ages each one to their own event,
While we who remain here grow and love,
Still remembering those whose winter ... we could not prevent.
It is the strength of their memories we add to our own,
They give us the values, insights, and perspective,
Which we in turn pass on ... to the seeds we have sown.
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
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Daniel Cwiak Poem
I was talkin' with the Lord when He said to me
"Are you okay? Need some company"?
I told Him that even with all His creatures
I couldn't find one that had my features.
"Well, no need to worry about it." He said
Then he gave me a nightcap, and put me to bed.
When I awoke I was awfully sore
Little did I know there was to be a lot more.
For He had taken a bit of my hair and a piece of bone
And whilst I slept, formed for me a unique companion.
I caller her "Eve" as it seemed to fit
As time went by we were a hit.
We would talk and eat and walk the garden nude
No neighbors as yet, we needn't be prude.
Then one day she said to me,
"Hey Adam, here, try some fruit from this tree."
Not knowing the difference between evil and good
I took a big bite, as together we stood.
Then in a flash everything turned black
I knew we were in for some serious flak.
"What have you done?" I asked aloud
"Was this from the tree, which was not allowed?"
"Well", she said, "The snake gave me the word
That if we ate it, we would be like the Lord."
We realized we were naked and ran off for some leaves
When the Lord started calling, we were hiding in the trees.
"What's going on?" He said to me
"Have you eaten of the forbidden tree?"
Like all blame shifting men not skipping a beat
"Yes, Lord", I said, "Eve gave me some to eat.
"You foolish creatures . . . it would have been wise
You could have spent eternity in this Paradise."
"I'm sorry Lord, I can't say it enough."
"You're right, you can't, so I'm making this rough!
Because now, you will have to scratch out a life
For yourself, your children, and especially your wife.
If you think this is bad, you're in for a trick
Wait until some banker dreams up plastic.
She'll be shopping and buying and going all around
It'll be enough, to put you in the ground.
As for her, she'll suffer as much and more too
After all, now she'll have to put up with you!"
So an angel took us to the gate in the garden wall
Saying only, "Be careful, now it will hurt if you fall."
So there we were, On the Outside Looking In
At that manicured garden, where we committed our sin.
I wouldn't mind if so much weren't at stake
Now all she says is, "I have a headache."
I've tried to forgive her and a gentleman be
But I still can't let her control the remote for the TV.
So here I am thinking, "I've been such a dupe,
For posterity . . . I'll put this on Poetry Soup!"
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
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Daniel Cwiak Poem
Now here's a contest that seems pointless
But, up to a point, I guess it will do.
The points in my life have sometimes been fruitless,
I just thought I would point that out to you.
Oh, the point of this rhyme
May be pointed one way,
But it is at this point in time
To score points by what I say.
The point that I am making,
Is that there is always some point
That life points in a way forsaking,
Giving your point a grave disjoint.
I have pointed out many times
that points are good and bad.
But the good points I remember better
Rather than the bad points I have had.
You can sometimes see how pointless it is
To try to point these things out.
As for the point I am making,
You get the point...no doubt!
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2011
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Daniel Cwiak Poem
"I am sending you a gift of poetry, dear heart." This one really reached out to me in its simple
and uncluttered use of a sunrise to show God's handiwork. I thought that since your work was
in Haiku, I would try to do a free verse version relating the thought of God painting His
morning canvas. I hope you are okay with this.
Inspired by the poem: "Heavenly Sunrise" by Constance~A Rambling Poet~
For: "I Am Sending You A Gift Of Poetry, Dear Heart" Contest
Free Verse Poem Written by: Dan Cwiak
The Master takes his brush to palette~
Effortlessly is the day's canvas dotted with color.
Golden Horizon swished from the brush~
Darkened only by the earth tones of morning.
An Orange Ball creeps o'er the distance~
Shades of red and yellow stir the burnt umber awake.
Fine lines drawn for this morning~
No mistaking the Hand of God at work!
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
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Daniel Cwiak Poem
There is a spirit that watches over you
In the daylight hours, and nightime too.
You may not think that they are there
But there is a way to make you aware.
I learned the name of my angel a long time ago
Because I was interested and I wanted to know.
His name is "Maximus" and is with me here
To learn of his presence once made me fear.
Because what you do is watched all the day
The angel keeps tabs, God finds out that way.
I guess you think I'm being naive
Trust your faith, if you believe.
If you want to know your angel's name
There is a way to find out which is no game.
Say a prayer for three days in a row
And after each time ask him to reveal his name to you.
If you believe in him he will tell you true
If not, he may be silent to you.
I know of others who have tried this I can say
Some, have learned the names of their angels this way.
When you pray for their name do not think it absurd
Some, I know, will hear that singular word.
It won't come as a shout from heaven on high
But rather as a whisper, when your angel is nigh.
These spiritual beings are here for us all
Sometimes they wait just to here us call.
And when you do wouldn't if be grand
If you knew the spirit's name...who behind you stands!
Try it and see if you think I'm fooling around
Be honest with yourself with both feet on the ground.
As someday that spiritual angel you will greet
Wouldn't it be nice to be on a "first name" basis when you meet?
And if you try but do not hear their name
Keep on trying because your conviction was lame.
I know many will think I'm crazy with this
But knowing my angel's name has brought comfort and bliss.
So try it yourself and see if in kind
If your angel will speak to you...they really don't mind.
Because then a dialogue with them you can share,
Even if they never speak again, you'll know...they're there.
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak | Year Posted 2010
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