I woke at 8:45
Stretched and yawned
Smiled. All gaiety.
Potty first. Face splashed
Skipped teeth, shower, hair
Pajamas wrinkled
week-long underwear
Rushed down the steps
Threw open the fridge—
Friday’s meatloaf, cold brick.
Just Me & Capt’n Crunch—
sugar gravel
still in a Scooby-dish bowl
9am flipped on the boob-tube
Saturday morn cartoons
Mystery van
Spinach
Spiders
Anvils dropping
White cowl
Bull’s-eye dog
Sugar Sugar
Ah…Honey Honey
Daniel—
Cliff edge
The long fall.
I laughed until I wept, until I cried.
All gaiety—
gone.
The sweet milk gone warm.
Chirp.
Screen lit—
three little dots
then—
“You up yet Papa? XOXO”
My t-shirt had holes, and my jeans had some patches.
My feet were bare, and my elbows both had scratches.
The grownups were all indoors and the kids were out of sight.
'Twas a perfect childhood, 'neith a sun that shined so bright.
As we rode our bikes to the beach in nineteen sixty eight,
we felt the sea breeze on our faces. Everything was great.
Blissfully unaware of the nightmare in the jungle land,
I collected seashells in the Southern California sand.
My parents called me inside, with news, one cloudy day,
about the blast that blew my happy childhood away.
I wonder why everybody felt the need,
to express their opinions so openly,
about this man who had the misfortune to die.
I watched them slowly strolling past the casket,
like they were shopping for fruit at the market,
I wondered why some of them felt the need to cry..
There were a few folks braver than the rest,
who touched his hand or patted him on the chest,
whispering that now he is in a better place.
Doesn’t he look nice and so peaceful.” they all said,
one lady even kissed him on his forehead,
he looks so natural with that smile on his face.
When it came my turn to look over the side,
my excitement faded and to my surprise,
because to me the old codger just looked dead.
When your stretched out in your casket I suppose.
that’s probably the way that it always goes,
too look like you’re sound asleep at home in your bed.
August 28, 1968
A New Birth
Miracle Man
8-25-2023
I saw odds stacked against me, and no place to turn,
I sought the face of one that I’d given little concern.
I put my trust in Jesus and with great faith believed,
I was amazed at what my Heavenly Father achieved.
The recent prognosis that had my body once bound,
In an instant was gone and my life turned around.
It was that precise moment that my new life began,
I made Jesus my savior and He’d forgiven my sin.
1968, the only year
Since the Great War,
Supposed to ensure
We would fight no more,
No combat deaths
Of any serving Brit.
A sobering fact.
But do enough know it?
Sickening sweet smell of marijuana
A young guy with a super grin playing bongos
I had never seen that in real life, just on Dobie Gillis.
Come on up! My free-minded cousin said.
There were beds, but they were occupied.
I did not know people sleep during the day.
Being from the Midwest, this was all new
Are these your roommates? I asked her.
Just people, she told me.
I changed into my swimming suit,
Because I was in San Francisco,
And I thought there would be a beach
Someone started a sing-along in the living room.
I was intrigued; this was freedom I had never seen.
We’ll swim tomorrow, my cousin promised.
We never got to the beach
But I saw S Street
And I met real hippies
I found out my zodiac sign
And I learned I have gold in my eyes.
Someone called me an old soul.
It was 1968 I was sixteen.
And it was enough.
August 28, 1968
Haiku: by Tom
Cancer was the match
that set my fields on fire.
Then came God’s healing.
I
David Frost in the month of September
Before the US opening in October
(Not live, except Paul sang live throughout;
But the mixed fans will thrill; even a turbaned Sikh)
So if you fell weighed down today in 2020
Go back in time; thanks to YouTube: "Make it better!"
II
Please SEARCH this video from those glorious Beatles' archives
Feel the PEACE & HOPE from the Pauls, Ringos, Lennons, & Georges
In South Africa, our budding talents, sang : HEY JUNE
And it is making the rounds: SEARCH that too
"Hey June, in South Africa" and get my news. Better 'n' BETTER!
Remembering August 28, 1968
Written: by Miracle Man
10-07-2019
I prayed that day to feel God’s touch,
I asked no more, just that much,
Prayer was answered from above,
With tear filled eyes I felt His love.
But what did I, a lost man, have to give,
I vowed my heart for as long as I live.
Since that day we’ve not been apart,
He’s won my thoughts and also heart.
August 28th 1968*
Written: by Tom Wright
3/20/2014
Without joy I faced a mountainous rise,
A pale rider had entry into my day.
Sitting astride, the specter of my demise,
No longer, my concerns, could I allay.
But from uplifted prayer, an answer,
Descended not as an eminent surprise;
I was jolted by news that it was cancer
By the Holy Spirit, God did baptize.
Straightaway from that earlier mount,
Came sudden alterations to my life.
The pale rider was dropped for the count,
God’s unseen hand controlled the knife.
*The day that I committed my life to Jesus
Had Cancer at age 28
Alive today at 75
Praise God
As he lay in an open field
Blood pouring out of his head
Trying to yell for help
He looks upon the clear blue sky
Wondering if today he will die
He can feel the wind from the chopper blades
Yellow smoke sends a message to the pilots eye
Pick him up or he will die
As they pick him up to put him in
Bullets riddle the red cross on the choppers side
A thirty minute ride to Da Nang
With his Jugular severed doctors had no clue
How he was still alive and he did not die
A brothers story told to me as he lay dying in an open field
Sponsored by: Mark Massey
Name Of Contest: War Sonnet
Date: 01/10/2019
Shakespearean sonnet
Judge N/A
1968
Beaten on the school yard
Cursed on the bus
Not all the kids hated whites,
The few left in the hood.
Haters sat at dinner tables
Hearing the call to “justice.”
Just like us.
Nine – not near ready
To understand the chemistry of
Hate.
Fear haunted me,
Dark sickening fear,
A sticky gray fog covered
My days and my nights.
Afraid for all of us, and those
Eager to do harm.
Naïve, ignorant, only knowing
Fists and slurs.
April fourth, June fifth, 1968
All the world raged, rioted,
Hated against hate.
The only voices that pierced the fog came from
The men with the power to wage peace.
Inspired by the truth trickling through
Muddy cheesecloth filters covering our minds.
Dr. King was only a man, but of God.
His devotion to the Power of Love
Drilled into my heart
Injected me with guilt and
Passion.
Bobby Kennedy was only a man,
But a visionary.
The truth, seemingly invisible to us,
So painfully twisted his face.
Both men dreamed, and now…
So do I.
"Wah-hoo-wah!"
said the 'bro,'
"Let's head toward
Fraternity Row."
The Library bells
toll ding-dong,
Drunken brothers
play beer-pong;
All through the night
play and drink,
By dawn of day,
their breath stinks.
Men of Darmouth,
give a rouse!
Party hearty
and carouse.
From every window
music blasting,
Led Zeppelin screaming
lyrics everlasting.
But, hey, poor freshman, if you feel left out,
Don't hang around your dorm and pout;
Lack of coeds needs a fix, sir?
Here's the recommended elixir:
Tonight's big Freshman Mixer!
So many girls there on parade--
None of whom wants to be an 'Old Maid.'
And so it goes,
all through the year,
Mechanical sex,
fueled by stale beer.
Debauched, promiscuous
four-year journey:
At whose end
you're ready to be,
quite miracululously--
A CPA, CEO, Physician, or Attorney!
DA NANG, 1968: THE DANCE OF DEATH
That night I watched the muted flashes
Reflected off low somber clouds
And heard the muted rumble
Of distant artillery
As if a storm were approaching.
And I knew that somewhere
In the jungled hills out there
Uniformed figures flailed the air
In grotesque dances of death
Engulfed by flames
Shredded by shrapnel.
While I, weary beyond caring
Thought only of blessed sleep
Perhaps tomorrow or the days after that
I too would dance the dance of death
And then could rest forever.
LORD, I KNOW
Lord, I know, you know what I mean
Lord, I know, you know what I need..
I'm not one who spends
a lot of time on my knees
I'm not one for saying,
C'mon Lord, Please.
But Lord I know you've heard
every word that I say
every time I pray.
Every time I pray.
Lord, I know, you know what I mean
Lord, I know, you know what I need..
Lord, I know, you know what I mean
Lord, I know, you know what I need..
I'm not one for saying
"This is what I need..."
I'm not one for praying
for things I just don't need.
I just want to thank you,
Thank you Lord, again,
I know you know
what I mean again.
Lord, I know, you know what I mean
Lord, I know, you know what I need..
Lord, I know, you know what I mean
Lord, I know, you know what I need..
© ron wilson aka Ron Arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
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