Best By The Same Token Poems
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by, and
That has made all the difference".
The Road Not Taken. Robert Frost
We deem it normal for babies to cry when they arrive.
Perhaps it's the best indication that they are alive.
But in their minds, it seems they are issuing a protest.
Notwithstanding, it takes only a little bit of loving caress,
and, just like that, newborns succumb to affection and tenderness.
It's as if a baby accepts it by saying, "Now that I am here"....
What if we were just as adjusting when life presents us with the
unexpected? "Now that we are here" would be a calming and mature
manner of course. We will never know the difference our lives would have been or would have made had it gone just as we had planned or how we
had prepared for it to be.
Before now, I had not given much thought to what might be happening at
birth in the minds of the baby, but I believe that there is a God-designed element within us at birth that gives us an untrained instinct or hidden
desire to make adjustments when so required.
Sometimes, when we are drawn into places that are unplanned and unsuitable, or by our own intention, we have every right and a need to
protest and seek an exit. But then, there are times that we of necessity
must bow to the situation and say, "Now that we are here", let's make the best of the circumstance. Let's reevaluate and recalculate. Let's reconsider and recheck the GPS that God has given us.
"Now that we are here", who knows but what God has brought us or allowed us to enter this place, this season, this misfortune, for such a time as this?
Like newborn babies, let us indeed protest this strange turn of events. We
absolutely have been given a will, a uniqueness, and a mind of our very own.
By the same token, we must occasionally turn aside and say, "Now that we are here", what now? Now that we are here, a place we never intended to be or to go, what shall we now do? Does this way lead to my destiny? What new ideas and inspiration await us? I know whereof I speak, and I must say, mine has been quite a ride.
031923PSCtest, Now that we are here. Unseeking Seeker
You've seen them. Those little trays on the store counter with pennies in them and often a sign saying “Take a penny, leave a penny”. On occasion, I have dropped pennies in them, but until just recently, I never had occasion to need one. Falling two cents short of my purchase price, I reached for another dollar, when the clerk said “I've got it” and added the two cents from the tray.
It got me to thinking, which always gets me in trouble, how much those pennies are like poems, lying there for the taking, waiting for someone to want them. Most people will not pick one up. But when they want one, it is nice to know there is one they can have.
Some say pennies aren't worth much, but I beg to differ. Their value varies from person to person. Poems are like that. Their value is generally greatest to the person that offers it. It is given for the most part to please someone else. However, those that read them place their own value upon them. Some they are very thankful for, while others, well, not so much.
The bottom line, to me at least, is a penny is always a penny and a poem is always a poem. It is what we do with it that makes the difference. I know much that I write does not necessarily speak to the reader. But to me, it's value does not decrease. By the same token, I read some things and say “OK” and move on, while others I keep. It doesn't make any difference to me. The author thinks it's great, and so do some readers. That's as good as it gets. If you don't care for it, like the penny, leave it there. But if it fills a need, pick it up and use it.
You've seen them. Those little trays on the store counter with pennies in them and often a sign saying “Take a penny, leave a penny”. On occasion, I have dropped pennies in them, but until just recently, I never had occasion to need one. Falling two cents short of my purchase price, I reached for another dollar, when the clerk said “I've got it” and added the two cents from the tray.
Why bring that up you may ask. Well, because I was thinking, which always gets me in trouble, how much those pennies are like reading poetry. Most people do not avail themselves of poems that are lying there for the taking, waiting for someone to want them. More people will probably leave poems then ever pick them up. But when they want one, it is nice to know there is one they can have.
People say pennies aren't worth much, but I beg to differ. Their value varies by how much you need or want it. Poems are like that. Their value is generally greatest to the person that offers it. It is given for the soul purpose of pleasing someone else. However, those that use them place their own value upon them. Some they are very thankful to get, while others, well, not so much.
The bottom line, to me at least, is a penny is always a penny and a poem is always a poem. It is what we do with it that makes the difference. I know that much that I write does not necessarily speak to the reader. But to me, it's value does not decrease. By the same token, I read some things and say “ok” and move on, while others I keep. It doesn't make any difference to me. The author thinks it's great, and so do some readers. That's as good as it gets. If you don't like it, like the penny, leave it there. But if it fills a need, pick it up and use it.
That's my two cents worth.
All things in moderation,
It's a good way to get along;
For life it seems is a smorgasbord,
Of work, play, strife and song.
How can we enjoy a meal,
If we only taste one dish?
How can we have the fullness of life,
With our mind set alone on one wish?
Life is a serious matter, that's true.
We must learn to earn our keep.
Common sense tells us that all things need,
To work, play, laugh and sleep.
Equal amounts of excitement and peace,
Are important to our very existence.
It's unhealthy for us to dwell on one thing,
And obsess with too much persistence.
It takes all the fun and joy out of life,
To worry too much and frown.
By the same token it isn't wise,
To try to be the town clown.
All things in moderation.
Listen, learn and be wise.
All things in moderation.
It's a good way to live a full life.
This Christmas, I am moved by the names in the genealogy of Jesus. I find the Biblical genealogy of Israel and Jesus to be a very fascinating study. There are four named women in the genealogy of Jesus and one name referenced. They are TAMAR, Rahab, Ruth, and Mary: Bathsheba is referenced to as Urias' wife.
When one reads TAMAR's story*, there is the feeling that what she did about her situation was over the top, out of culture, way out of line, and out of the realm of Godliness. By the same token, if we put our feet in her shoes, during her time, we might feel the same as she did regarding her plight and how to remedy the situation. Her patience ran completely out, and she felt that her father-in-law Judah was not living up to his responsibility. However, she did not bother to appeal to a greater earthly authority, nor did she bother to consult with The Lord. She took matters into her own hands, and although her approach was deceitful, her outcome was acceptable to her.
Judah's verdict against her, by current human standards, seemed judgmental and harsh. But Tamar forced him to face the truth and to commute her sentence of death. TAMAR proved to be a force to be reckoned with.
Judah speaks to all of us who spend our lives seeking self-gratification and running rampantly in our reckless self-righteousness. TAMAR speaks volumes about taking matters into our own hands, seeking desperately to find a fix for what ails us. More often than not, such fantasy fixes end in failures, and we live with the consequences. Self-righteousness is often very subtle and is capable of wrapping itself around the best of us. It's the type that says, "If I was writing a Holy Book, there would not be space on my Holy pages for the likes of Judah and Tamar". As a human filled with flaws, flops, and failures of my own, I am most grateful for the grace of God that has been extended to me. Both Judah and TAMAR, by no goodness of their own, found themselves in the genealogy of 'The Christ" who presents Himself as the Savior of the whole world. That includes Judah, TAMAR, you, and me.
12042017PoSoupContest, Favourite Poem From December 2017, Julia Ward
*Genesis 38
I confess, there are many things I want to and should change.
But by the same token, there are things better left as I found them.
The moth doesn't need an assist from me to make him a better butterfly.
Oh, I just want to make it easier and better; but better by whose standard?
If the sign says, "beware of dog", why would I doubt and not heed? Be wise.
If the notice says, "Do not disturb", why would I even consider going right in?
It's never more true that fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
11232017 PS Contest, Unsayable, Nette Onclaud, 6P
Keep paying your dues when liberalism
packets profits from your sweat;
and don't mutter a disapproval word...
when your stomach growls for an altruism
that enriches the lives of the smart,
while yours is not considered sacred.
The horrifying screams
that were suddenly halted
by an exhaled breath are fragments
of all hope and the beginning of all strife;
they remain inside and make
your agonizing soul bleed:
don't think of possible revenge...
while smelling the stench of the blood.
It's the ultimate self-sacrifice
preventing the horrendous carnage
of thousands who cling to life,
barely making their ends meet,
just picking up their breadcrumbs
and continue the squalid living and ache
for the abundance promised
by a liar who only sought gold.
Is it possible to avoid cruel glances and hatred feelings,
not hear threats that disquiet a tranquil life
meant to be lived by all who seek happiness,
not disharmony, conflict, or insidious rife?
Is it human to break hearts and rejoice
over their grievances caused by malicious deeds?
Mend yourself for the actions that brought ambivalent moods
of distrust, why hurt others and not be punished by the same token?
Don't keep spinning your wheel...it will stop and bring you down!
The horrifying screams that were suddenly halted
by an exhaled breath in distress have retained
their fret to encounter more frightful images that prolong
their play of mischievousness among enlarging shadows,
no powerful light will make them vanish into nothingness:
there's no redemption without realizing the gravity of wrong.
instead of crunchy bread.
People aren't perfect, for sure this is true.
They don't always do what they say they will do.
By the same token they often aren't guilty,
Of commissions, omissions that some will deem filthy.
Nefarious crimes, using darkness for cover,
Lest someone find out and all is discovered.
While often it's true not all are trustworthy,
It just isn't fair to be in a hurry,
To lump all in together and say there you are,
One's as bad as another, the fruit don't fall far.
Common sense tells us in some situations,
Most mistakes are made with the bet of intentions.
Don't be too quick to be judging your neighbor,
For sure some day you may need his favor.
Decide for yourself what works for you,
And don't criticize what your neighbor will do.
No one does anything the same way as you,
And the truth to be told you don't want them to.
It's rare that you'll find one exactly like you.
A soul mate, a brother, the same through and through.
Most people are different, not exactly the same,
'Cause individuality is the name of the game.
"So correct is Maya Angelou,
“Nothing will work unless you do”
Sweat and hard work is not enough,
You need to be strong and mentally tough
Strong in integrity and motivation,
With focus and determination
Self worth and happiness are also key,
To have that balance in “me”
To insure what I claim for me,
I am capable to share with “we”
Hard to give when you are broken,
Or to receive by the same token
So each day accept who you are,
Knowing that life leaves a few scars
As we seek to define,
Where our priorities align
Decisions are always hardest,
When you’re at your weakest
Or confused by your emotions,
Which hinder our forward motion
Toward that which we want,
Because indecision haunts
Be motivated instead, to explore,
What you really want and more
Believing that you will get through,
Because everything works when you do"
FREE-WILL is Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden making choices KNOWINGLY contrary to God's command. They were tempted with other choices which they had the ability to resist and avoid a different outcome which their creator did not choose for them. By their consent and personal choice, they charted a different destiny for themselves, and their actions literally affected the choices and destinies of every human being that followed. There is an amazing lesson for us to consider when we realize that our choices are not about us alone. Our choices may well influence, and in some cases, may dictate the destiny of others. Eve chose to say 'yes' to the serpent; Adam chose to say 'yes' to Eve.
FREE-WILL is also seen in a news story about a lady that refused to wear a mask which was a requirement to receive service. She appealed to her individual right 'not to wear a mask', and such a choice was well within her right to do so. By the same token, the business enterprise had it's right also 'not to serve her unless she wears a mask'. If the enterprise, in our present state of health, allowed her to go unmasked, he ran the risk of allowing others to be infected with The COVID-19 virus based on her choice alone.
DESTINY is Jesus Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane submitting his will
to the will of the Father. Choice seems to be in play here, but destiny is
primary.
DESTINY is also Jesus Christ on the cross destined to die, to be resurrected, and to return to Heaven.
DESTINY is also the sentence of death for the entire human race, all animal and plant species, and every living organism; none of which has any choice in the matter of death being our final destiny. The only exception that I know to that rule is the faith of the Christian believer which promises a new and eternal life after death. That would then be our eternal destiny.
091120PSCtset, Free Will VS Destiny, Chantelle Anne Cooke
longevity... a natural proclivity of the mind
the want... the desire to live a long ––prosperous life
basking in rays of sunshine...
though even in the midst of life's strife's
we dig our heels in and deal with its spills...
in hushed awareness we know one day the curtain will close...
our sun will set in our medley of daffodils ...
life as we know it will end
but until then...
we build relationships that bring us love and laughter
we try not to think about the day we will transition to the here-after...
the gift of longevity is such a blessed and beautiful thing
by the same token can be an emotional sting...
as we witness family and friends one by one
lives set with the sun...
I look around and so many are now gone
at times bitter-sweet thoughts of all the love shared reflected in my muse alone...
in my heart I know if my loved ones... and friends could just speak to me once more
when my spirit is low... my heart sore...
their message would water my soul like a gentle rain
the message:
"let not our passing cause too much pain"...
live... love... and laugh with a vengeance! friends and family
and when it's time for your sunset; you will be in Good Company...
The town which oozed the plain and lacklustre held them in a judo grip but by the same token itself seemed to become slyly going into step by step morph contraction.
“Donkeys are symbolic to a vast extent.
They exude such, indeed much ken.
Are they guffawing at us?
But just as you and I had our first encounter as children when on a short trip with our parents.
It was one of the few forms of entertainment available in this mystery shroud of a spot.
Where disposable income might be too easily disposed of.”
Both Nigella and Nigel found that ever since they met whilst nourishing the donkey, this donkey, its Mise en scene, its portentous presence had this uncanny knack of pursuit of both of them.
The strangest coincidences.
Idioms, expressions, the way people interacted, the synonyms for donkey in this town created a situation where the word donkey and a donkey’s environs, and other creatures in the habitat had this hypnotising invisible secretive yet insidious skulk.
“Have you even sensed, Nigella,a disconcerting shift and shunt this isolated district, the size, there has been a slow exit to boot. On boot.
Does it have its own booty?
We both smirk at that one.
Even as we interact there is this intended or unintended prank simmering….somewhere.
As if we might be shoehorned into a loosely scheduled drama.”
Nigel and nigella often mused and bandied about words asinine and their variants.
But devoid of concrete proposal or narrative life pulse in this strangeville of a town that was now a drift sand physically and in terms of folks who no longer existed resembled an abstruse puzzle when it shouldn't
Meaningless words
sometimes are heard
when spoken.
By the same token,
when written instead,
they are then read.
DNA spawns life and, too, the capacity to laugh,
which is a good thing, later, when those lives are torn in half.
Those three letters guide us down a long, rocky road,
through our behavior which that prankish molecule bestowed.
Yes, deoxyribonucleic acid is the name,
borne by the misguided chemical that I blame
for the unfortunate, darkly comical lives we lead
as it makes sure to screw us, as is guaranteed.
Our parents raise us, but you know they never understood.
They would have done much better if they only could.
We make a solemn vow, between ourselves and God,
that we won't make those mistakes (then, the parent path we trod).
At sixteen years or so, our young hearts must be broken,
and we must break another's heart, much by the same token.
All those genes really care about is that we reproduce,
and towards those purposes, we suffer such abuse.
We start work or college with the ideals known to youth,
as we strive for decency, honesty, and truth,
until one day, we're middle-aged and growing bald,
and our own corruption has today's youth appalled.
When our hair has all fallen out, and we're officially old,
we're neglected until our bodies finally grow cold.
Then, for once, people praise us and choose our epitaph.
I hope mine will say, "at least he had a good laugh".