When I began the journey, fifty odd years ago
to become a parent
There were no books or journals then
to guide this experiment
It's mostly based on mentorship
each of us has gained
Often full of potholes
mistakes we have obtained
So when I look in hindsight
not having skills required
Had parenting been my full time job
I would surely have been fired
But life provides us
with a chance to make amends
To bless with love my children
and treat them as my friends
There is no doubt challenges
existing on the way
Some families face adversity
every single day
Sometimes it seems
that life is back to front
The wisdom that we need when young
arrives when ageing fills our wont
To be a grandparent prior to parenting
would elicit a necessary skill
To raise five children, share more prudence
to a loving life, which they can then fulfil
She is the first great experiment
of the universe,
and of my life:
to release the only one
so that she may become the many.
No longer one thing, she becomes
everything.
And thus I may wander everywhere
in my being
through an emptiness of space
in the alwaysness
of her.
Once I was fortune's favorite
on hand for hours of discovery.
Now I am crowned
with perfection.
Once there with her, now
here with her
releasing myself
into the infinity
of love.
Christopher M. Swan, "Song of Susan," 2008
The feel of a touch,
the sound of a cry,
the joy of hello,
the sorrow of
goodbye.
We entangle, we combine
we fall apart -
but in the end,
we get up and
we try, try, try,
to form a connection
that doesn't end in absence.
It all ends
for those already absent.
Be present,
if not for others,
then for yourself.
The feel of a touch,
the sound of a cry,
the joy of hello,
the sorrow of
goodbye.
We entangle, we combine
we fall apart -
but in the end,
we get up and
we try, try, try,
to form a connection
that doesn't end in absence.
It all ends
for those already absent.
Be present,
if not for others,
then for yourself.
Blasphemy, truly—
To treat a poem like lab equipment.
Smearing souls on damp napkins,
scribbling overwrought sorrows.
We are sacred, young lady.
Vessles for disciplined sociopaths and
occasionally, prophets.
Not therapy couches
for freshly wrecked teens.
Yet here you are—
dismantling verses
with the rollerball pen from middle school
and deliberately gothic tragedies.
“I’m figuring it out as I go.”
The audacity.
But fine, if you’d rather,
learn poetry like the ruined—
I guess I can take this blow.
I’ve always been too soft-hearted.
Tonight, I won’t write anything at all…
I’m throwing in my quill,—who am I fooling?—
I’m throwing in my keyboard, overruling
my instinct for seriousness,—o how small
and earnestly banal…/I mean!, the gall
of an Artiste not sat at home drooling
on their craft and crafting another grueling
chef-d’œuvre,—Bah!—leave that to the alcohol!—
—@-tack your ’s-periment__’n’|defend|
mine own: for the[object]of this{subject}
is Anihilating your nothingness.
Yea! all this—and (, verily,) nothingless.
Avoid a void?,your void—I“[-VOID-]”| perfect
disdain,—no mask upon it to append.
Meet me—by the abandoned houses—>there
not here<—, for it’s a danger! to be seen
in such ill company as I__I mean:
if strangers knew how strange was our affair,
they’d **** us!—meet me when night has grown fair,
bring gifts (flowers) (for nothing’s more obscene
in such situation as we are keen).
Though I’m well loath to leave you unaware,
you’ll must need hear silence ‘stead my full name;
—(it’s customary practice;)—tell me not
yours either; I want to know as little
as possible,—so to go without blame,
and still to lick the flame:to spill the plot:
to linger - - - on your delightful spittle.
it's according to God's plan
in harmony the two shall meet
and peace will reign upon the land
AP: 3rd place 2025
This world is only an experiment
The proof of life and its existence
It's only a creation of the human mind
The final outcome of this experiment
Has yet to really be revealed in kind
Many thoughts on this vital subject
How can the mind create such joy
And yet despair at a life gone wrong
Into an amazing paradox we belong
Close up you can see the colossal amounts of energy
it took to grow this plant from a seed
An even closer look through the microscope,
inside lies the complete genetic information
Images of texture I can almost feel
Spikes that pop up prickly come alive
I have no limits to magnification
I can see vibrant stars dead center
Elements of sunshine tan and green
Sediments of gill filaments in V-shapes
Arrows in grooves with silver linings
Natures details to resemble filigree
Mucus glowing its sickle-shaped petal lobes
Milky sap growing within, aligning
milk vines and perfect pinwheels
Nature’s own flower arrangements
Under a microscope
Do not be perturbed said the man in charge
You must not think of wolves of any sort
Immediately they thought of wolves,
some in story books on tiny shelves...
Some went hunting them in make-believe
or went to far off zoos
Some thought of photographs -
those mostly frightening kind
Did anyone NOT think of wolves?
One stood up quickly, he...
I thought of Mary, that man said. She's anti-wolves and anti-dogs
and oh... so anti-me.
5/21/2023
Power-house kid mixes milk and some FLOUR
with dirt; he's planning a really big FLOW'R.
He is OUR young grandson and hopes to see
within the HOUR (or less) a dumpling tree.
I explain: DUE to the dawn's heavy DEW,
the ground apologizes: "No can DO!"
Haikuist
tries new method
betaku
contrary to popular religious belief
our universe was not created in a week
the universe did not spring from nowhere
spewing out planets and breathable air
that which constitutes the totality
has forever defined reality
difference lying within the constant changes
which evolution by any other name is
this world was not created for humankind
we adapted became physically aligned
to survive the environment our planet provides
what is possible becoming the ongoing guide
humans forgot their place within being
only themselves they now seem to be seeing
fortunately this universe does not care
if species is self-centered and unaware
that not one condition is ever permanent
including the so-called human experiment
no matter who or how long faith denies
fabricates larger, more intricate lies
self-righteousness and all consuming prayer
realty destroys it layer by layer
coming down to final analysis
existence shall always be all there is
Perhaps a conspiracy, but the crew only knows, the
Happenings aboard the USS Eldridge, kept hushed
In a ship that sailed from sea port to time portals
Leaves a feeling this test was not ready, but rushed
Amid the Atlantic they were meant to disappear
Despite intentions, not only from sight did they vanish
Ever baffled by a green, eerie glow where the ship was
Last, by naval command all of the records were banished
People say they reappeared in the Norfolk Naval shipyard
Heavily disoriented and fused to the steel hull of the deck
In legend they say these sailors fused were alive
And how did they explain this more than a ship wreck
Each crewman survivor, where are they all now
X-rayed and studied in a black ops facility?
Prying minds still trying to make sense of it all
Ever curious, but maybe beyond my ability
Remaining questions with impossible answers
In theory, could there still be witnesses left
Men or woman who saw a war ship materialize
Each in disbelief of their eyes, their logic bereft
Not knowing if it was paranormal or sanity failing
This gave a new definition, to the term parasailing
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