Long Way of saying Poems
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“ STREAMS “
SILENT STREAM FLOWS FREELY UNDER COVER OF THE NIGHT
SWIRLING AND TWIRLING BENEATH SHADOWY MOONLIGHT
FISH GATHERING TOGETHER FROGS SLEEP ALONG THE SHORE
MORNING COMES JUST IN TIME LIKE EVERY DAY BEFORE
TURTLES MOVE ON SLOWLY AS RAPID WATERS FIND THEIR WAY
RIPPLES DANCING ON THE WATER TOO BEAUTIFUL TO STAY
RAINDROPS FEED THE STREAM WET THE THIRSTY RIVER BANKS
OVER AND OVER AGAIN NATURES WAY OF SAYING THANKS
SUN RAYS STREAMING DOWN CUTTING THROUGH THE CLOUDS
SHINE LIKE A THOUSAND DIAMOND RINGS COVERING WET GROUND
WARMTH STREAMS THROUGH MY BODY SEEING AN OLD FRIEND
TIME WITH SOMEONE I CAN BE MYSELF NOT HAVING TO PRETEND
THOUGHTS STREAMING THROUGH THE MIND AS IDEAS PAVE THE WAY
BUILDING ON THE PROMISES THAT WE MAKE TODAY
MUSIC STREAMING IN THE ELEVATOR AND THROUGHOUT THE STORE
OLD FAMILIAR SONGS MAKE YOU WANT FOR MORE
CHANGE NEVER ENDS TIME GOES MARCHING ON
ALL THAT’S NEW TODAY MAY SOMEDAY BE GONE
PEOPLE STREAMING CROWDED SIDEWALKS CARS CRUISING DOWN THE
ROAD
EVERYONE PREOCCUPIED CARRYING THEIR OWN LOAD
LIFE COMES AT YOU FAST THINGS YOU CAN’T CONTROL
MAKE IT DIFFICULT TO STAND WHEN IT’S EASIER TO FALL
SWIMMING IN THE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS WHERE QUESTIONS
COME ALIVE
NOT KNOWING ALL THE ANSWERS UNTIL THEY ARRIVE
Honey,
sometimes I feel my grateful care-giving
for our mutual care-receiving
grows increasingly under-valued by you
and so,
perhaps for that reason,
also under-valued by me.
Are you suggesting,
my generous lover,
that positive gratitude,
like negative attitude,
is contagious?
Yes, that.
But also I worry
you believe your ultimate gratitude
for my generosity
is to apathetically receive ever more of my care,
rather than to repay in-kind
over our relational time together.
Does expressing my gratitude
with civil please and thank yous
and you are greatly welcome
and with I owe you
some good care-receiving in return
count as at least partial care-giving repayment?
Yes,
and so would taking out the recycling basket
when you fill it,
rather than just leaving it over-flowing
with your Earth-resident care-giving
for me to take out
for us,
as if I were your care-giving robot
nutritionally-compensated for a robust future
by your mere past care-receiving
patriarchal presence
within us.
Are you suggesting
the absence of my care-giving actions
speaks louder
than the presence of my care-giving words?
Something like that, yes.
Well, thanks for that future care-optimizing feedback.
You are quite welcome
to act with care
even before you speak of our mutual care.
Is the recycle basket overflowing
with my care-giving again?
I thought you might have noticed
when your glass bottles
fell to the floor.
Oh,
I thought that was just matriarchal Earth's gravity
saying ThankYou.
No,
that's Her way of saying
it's past time to clean up your care-giving act.
Lucinda would write songs that were dark
Too intense, probed recesses of the soul
She'd wake up with a phrase, clear and stark
Write down a few lines, get on a roll.
Pull out a meaning, get the right tone
Find where the spirit meets the bone.
Irving Berlin rose from nowhere to fame
He says a song must have longing inside
Some of his biggest hits he felt were a shame
But if I wrote "white Christmas," I would feel pride.
He gave some profits to the father of his wife
The father had disowned her, an irony of life.
Mary says the song can write itself
when that happens, it keeps her trying more
A finished song makes her feel outside herself
Like a growth spurt or letting the spirit soar.
A couple of chords, then a walk in the plain.
The guitar kicks it off; a new song learns its name.
John was asked to end an album with a love song
He drove to Big Sur, then back to L.A.
Tried to feel the ways people get along
The lines poured out, he'd made his day
"like a fire when it's cold outside, or thunder when it rains."
"Perhaps Love" became a classic, reached the halls of fame.
Some don't feel music, others don't want it to take hold
The Taliban forbids songs, treat them as a crime
I know some folk who say music leaves them cold
And public taste can flip on a dime.
But when a good song hits the airwaves, it's a nice surprise
A new way of saying what applies.
John Denver, Lucinda Williams, Mary Carpenter and more
Like art in general, worthwhile to explore.
Lucinda starts with phrases, Mary starts with her guitar
Some songs are team efforts; each way can make a star.
Last year I wrote of serendipity…how out of nowhere…in a snap
when we least expect it…life…can drop a blessing in our lap.
Yesterday was Milt’s memorial service…to our son Bryan he was a good friend.
Since the service was in Asheville, North Carolina…we could not attend.
The service began at 2:00 P.M. so to honor the friendship they had built
at 2:00 P.M. we stopped for a moment to remember…and say a prayer for Milt.
Everyone who knew Milt loved him…and since we both felt the same
as a lasting tribute to him we’re having a tree planted in his name.
We learned from Bryan who attended the service that Milt had always been drawn
to the teachings and the writings of the author Kahlil Gibran.
Skip ahead to last evening…I was tidying up the bookstore…making sure everything was neat
when a book flew off the shelf…and landed face down at my feet.
I had already finished tidying and all the customers had gone.
When I picked up the book and turned it over…
it was The Prophet…by Kahlil Gibran!
Skip farther ahead to this morning (I go in early to clean the store)
when I see this bookmark about trees lying in front of me on the floor.
I knew this bookmark wasn’t there when I closed the store last night….
and the moment that I saw it…I smiled at the sight.
I can only imagine Milt had a hand in this book and bookmark finding their way to me…
as a way of saying how he enjoyed Bryan’s friendship
and to say thank you for planting him a tree.
Oh! I bought the book and the bookmark…thinking they are divinely haunted..
and I’ll be handing them off to Bryan the next time we see him…
because I think that’s what Milt would have wanted.
So thank you Milt for a little serendipity…how you out of nowhere…in a snap
when I certainly wasn’t expecting it…you dropped two blessings in my lap.
A shiver went through her fragile body,
it must have been the cold and misty raindrops;
no words she spoke exuding mystery...
a strange gleam I noticed in those teary eyes.
I lowered my glance and whispered,
" Honey, you must be a little cold! "
And yet she didn't mutter a word,
but her nodding explained her need.
Another thought stroke me as lightening,
and that could have been her way of saying,
" Hug me with passion and make me feel loved
on a rainy spring night when no voices are heard. "
Gallantly and devotedly, I put my brown leather jacket
on her shivering shoulders by giving a fiery kiss and embrace
and I expected she would have exchanged it at any moment...
not feeling the nippy breeze brushing her joyful face.
Although the name, Tat Tvam Asi, was new to me, the thought and meaning were not unfamiliar.
If I say that I am closed minded, would you judge me and set me apart as one incarcerated?
If I say that I am open minded, would you welcome me, embrace me, accept me as yourself?
If I say that I am both closed and open minded, would you deem me schizophrenic or delusional?
Such were questions posed to one I met on a commuter train who challenged me to a "Rethink".* He was well versed in his belief, calm, poised, relaxed, and offering me a key to meet the real me. He even challenged my life-long belief that mankind needs a restoration because of a separation. He insisted that I reject the need for restoration because there never was a separation from God. We had a long commute of at least an hour, and as I deboarded the train, I was more convinced. More convinced and confident that I was on the right train and the right track at the right time. The right time because I needed someone like the eye-opening gentleman to challenge my faith.
I am reminded of one occasion or encounter I had with people of a much different faith than my own**. At the conclusion of a failed conversion attempt with me, I complemented the gentleman's taste in his attire as a way of saying, "No to your religion, but yes to your dress code".
He seemed startled by my kindness.
With regards to the commute train gentleman, I, with a sense of gratitude, was able to determine with a sense of certainty that I was opened-minded enough to graciously respect and listen to him; and at same time, I was closed-minded enough to say graciously, "Thank you sir, but no thank you".
072521PSCtest, 'Tat Tvam Asi' Contest, Unseeking Seeker *Fictitious story **True story
his mind had entered a state of confusion
numb blank and befuddled on one hand
with walls in front
and verges closing in behind
enclosed in a mixture of discomfort
and pressure to move
stand still for a moment
a voice quietly whispered
with a chorus answering
run for your life
polarized messages
a Jungian way of saying
only uncertainty is clear
he coughed up some phlegm
a mixture of nicotine and discontent
and tried not to give too much importance
to the dreams he had had
maybe there was an aperture
in the partition in front of him
there was a chance that the blind alley could see
not a through road but rather a simple conjecture
that could be refuted with patience and time
three things he knew was that he would not
turn back on himself in anger nor sorrow
that an imprisoned state
could serve as a prism
and reflection would eventually
lead him through darkness
19th February 2023
This or that volume 16 cul-de-sac
sponsor Edvard Ibeh
sitting indian style on the grass lake front
singing songs that i have long forgotten
a little girl joins me today wrapped in her favorite blanket
she just got out of the hospital after having her 15th surgery
she suffered third degree burns on 47% of her body
yet and still here she is a survivor and smiling, inspiring and humbling me
she asks me if i am feeling better
i reply by saying i should ask you that
she laughs and says 'things still happen to you silly'
i give her a butterscotch lollypop and watch her eyes glow widely in appreciation
we quietly appreciate the quiet and the calm that it brings
i see the tears flow from her eyes, but i say nothin to disturb her moment
i just smile and adjust the blanket that she named Linus
she rests her head on my right arm and falls asleep
it is then her mother taps me on the shoulder and says 'i think i will take her now'
with hands up, jokingly submitting, i tell her 'she still chooses you over me'
she puts her hands on her hips and says with a kiddingly accusatory smile 'i am beginning to wonder more each day'
she picks up the little girl and looks back at me and mouths an unexpected 'thank you' followed by tears
i simply nod, give her a smile of understanding, and wave goodbye
exactly two hours later, while still sleeping the little girl's little heart suddenly decided to stop
she was just two weeks into year 7
now each time when i come to sit indian style on the grass lake front,
i bring a blanket similar to Linus with me and lay it strategically on my right side
i gentle wind blows specifically where i lay said blanket, aptly named Lucy
i guess that is the little girl's way of saying hello and sitting next to me now
Remember Her I Will Always....Rest In Peace, Sweet Little Survivor....
Anna Alpaca is a sight.
with long, long legs and long, long neck.
She’s almost as tall as a kite!
I lean in to give her a peck
and when I am too close she spits
to let me know to go away.
She’s not rude, it’s just how she gets.
It is her way of saying “Nay!”
Showing elegance and true grace
in her chic shabby rose gray coat,
In my heart she has found a place.
I wish she fit in my pink tote!
She could model on a runway,
she’s such a nice little cutie!
If you are good and let her play,
she might be your sweet patootie!
She softly hums among the grass
listening with long pointy ears
for angry threats that might harass.
She sounds alarm if danger nears!
Her curly hair and big brown eyes
are deeply soft and sweet to see.
She should win a special top prize
for being perfectly lovely.
I wonder if you read them
I hope that you still do
I've tried but I can't seem to stop
Writing odes to you
They're my way of saying
You're so hard to forget
Though I'm not really trying
Nor do I want to yet
I still have so much more to say
I want to make you smile
And to know that I'm still able to
Makes it all worthwhile
I know I'll always love you
Regardless what may be
But do you still think of someday?
Of one day you and me?
There's no need to answer
I might not want to know
Just let me think the answer's yes
To bask in that thought's glow
I still have something for you
I still think you're the one
In terms of horticulture
I'm the plant and you're the sun
Your warmth and brightness grow me
My bloom and blossom stays
Healthy, strong, and vibrant
Bathed by your lovely rays