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Cynthia Palmer-Ham Poem
While watching "Name That Tune" reruns
I taste the garlic she used to put in the Beef Stew...
Thinking and laughing
about something we had done together...
Bittersweet mem'ries of days gone by...
She was my Mother, and now she's gone,
but she lives on in me.
Her mannerisms...her smile,
her eccentric ways of cleaning...
Her mood swings...laughter..tears...
Her struggle with alcoholism,
and my triumph over it.
I loved her dearly.
In loving memory of
Della Jeannette Ham
9/24/20 to 10/20/94
Copyright © Cynthia Palmer-Ham | Year Posted 2014
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Cynthia Palmer-Ham Poem
Although I've tried to understand your reasons for what you do,
sometimes I just turn my switch off, and ignore the nonsense.
Repeating the same ignorant remarks which obviously tweek my heart and soul,
you've really been asking my permission to leave and not come back,
because I was just a dalliance to you - "Hot Love In the Summertime"...
You take beautiful people, animals and creations and twist them around
to suit your 'manly' thoughts and desires, turning a beautiful flower
into a withered-up twiglet with no hope or life left.
Those are YOUR choices - not mine! I see beauty, and am mesmerized
by God's glorious developments within the universe.
You see only the flaming asteroids which threaten to destroy
this wonderful world we live in.
You hope for chaos and destruction, and you have a destructive personality.
You respect nothing, and prove it with your words and actions.
If only you could realize or even care what destruction you have caused,
and try to repair the damage by helping the beauty to blossom and bloom,
spreading yet again...
But! You obviously could care less about true happiness, peace and faith,
for your faith lies only in the knowledge that (finally) one day
you'll succeed in stifling out your own sordid life,
ne'er taking notice of all the wreckage you leave behind - intentionally.
What could have happened in your life
to make you hurt yourself knowingly...hopingly...
...Continuing to commit suicide on a daily basis?
What evil has befallen your soul to make you hate so much?
Or, is it mere child's play to you to make ev'ryone and ev'rything around you
wish they'd ne'er known a person as cold and nasty as you are?
My thoughts will wander to you from time to time in the future,
but they will immediately be dismissed - pushed away - like you did me.
My love is a special gift, but you don't see beauty, so you cannot know real love.
Therefore, I will spend the rest of my days striving to erase the hatred,
and bring love into the world, whether you like it or not.
God's love is the most beautiful thing there will e'er be,
and it shines like a beacon in my soul, but your lighthouse crumbled long ago,
and you don't even want to rebuild.
So, goodbye to your darkness, hello peaceful world.
Copyright © Cynthia Palmer-Ham | Year Posted 2014
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Cynthia Palmer-Ham Poem
There once was a Queen from Kent,
Whose notebooks have yet been rent,
Who spent all her time
Creating a rhyme,
So her kingdom was downward sent...
Along came a Champion so proud!
But his followers were MUCH too loud!
They woke up the Queen,
Creating a scene,
So her soldiers kicked him 'about'...
"Say what!?" Screamed the Queen
As she looked him 'between'...
"Let him up!" She did order,
"And kick one another!"
As was the law in 1319...
"This man will be MINE," said the Queen,
"Yes, this man will be my King!
He'll save our dear land,
And lend me a hand
With a little personal something."
SAID THE CHAMPION:
"You MUST stop speaking in riddles, my dear,
For your words to my mind do adhere!
If I'll be your King,
Then do this one thing,
Or you'll lose me fore'er, I fear."
The Queen did her best to adjust,
Turning eloquent words into dust...
She barely could talk,
So her mate she did stalk,
And spent her days wrapped up in lust...
Her stories are many, I hear,
But many are filthy, I fear,
So I'll leave up to guess
How she got out of her mess,
And how her Champion honestly saved her.
Copyright © Cynthia Palmer-Ham | Year Posted 2014
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Cynthia Palmer-Ham Poem
It's been well o'er ten years
since I took my journey
through a darkened star-lit tunnel...
...Sucked down a streamlined funnel...
Many people say their 'experience'
was filled with feelings of love;
beautiful sights...colorful lights,
but mine was a fearful flight.
I saw no glorious revelations,
no visions of life past.
I saw only darkness around me,
with dancing stars surrounding...
I flew with blinding fury
straight ahead...out of control...
I could feel my soul screaming
as though the air was filled with electricity.
I cried "No! No!", but kept going...
I screamed "I cannot leave my son!"
No escaping, filled with fear,
the force pulled me e'er near.
Suddenly, amidst my crying protests,
I came to an abrupt halt.
I was stuck there in the stars so bright...
...Ho'ering in my deathly plight...
Then an invisible door square, yet round,
opened oh, so slightly inward...
The brightest light I've e'er seen
flooded out one side to me...
A booming voice from all around
told me to "GO BACK."
HE said my work was "Not yet done",
and that I WAS "Needed" by my son.
...And I came back...
I was given the chance to make my life right -
to do what God has willed...
One day, though, my life will finally end,
and then I'll truly see
my loved ones and friends.
Copyright © Cynthia Palmer-Ham | Year Posted 2014
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Cynthia Palmer-Ham Poem
This is the universe,
and the world is my observatory.
What is real
is real to me,
so how can it be real to you
if we all see what is real,
but it is only real
because we SAY it is...
...And I'm not you,
and you're not ME,
and we all see things -
albiet maybe infinitessimally -
dif'rently?
Go figure...
Copyright © Cynthia Palmer-Ham | Year Posted 2014
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Cynthia Palmer-Ham Poem
It's the way that I run
and shave my legs
when I know
he's on his way...
It's the way that he listens
to my constant chatter,
conversing with me,
knowing I'm only lonely...
It's the way that I smile
inside my soul
when I speak his name,
or hear his voice...
It's the way that he waited,
watching me with others,
knowing I'd come to him
in the end.
It's the way that I feel comfortable -
only with him,
and not bashful,
or afraid I'm too fat.
It's the way that he cares
when he's doing
what he knows to be right for me,
to keep me from being hurt.
It's the way that I admire him
for working so hard,
and accept him
for he, himself...
It's the way he doesn't hide
the fact that we're together
from anyone, anytime -
especially not his friends.
It's the way that I don't
obsess over him,
but am so very glad
when we are together.
But most of all,
it's the way that we click,
and openly respect one another
ev'ry day, ev'ry way.
Copyright © Cynthia Palmer-Ham | Year Posted 2014
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Cynthia Palmer-Ham Poem
I find it odd that as soon as I asked for forgiveness for my sins
they all came back on me - tenfold. My seemingly 'bad' luck was caused
only by what I did to others against the will of the Lord.
When I honestly repented for the wrongs I had done,
I didn't ask for ev'rything to go haywire, but that's exactly what happened,
because I hadn't tried to rectify my behaviors. I tried to run from them,
and act like I'd ne'er really done anything wrong. I tried to shield myself
from them behind a wall of lies that only created more lies.
Instead of facing up to what I'd done, and try to fix it,
I thought it would all just go away because I wanted to turn my life around
and be a better person. I realize now that by hiding behind the hand of the Lord
I only got slapped in the face even harder. I showed no respect for the laws of God
or the land I live in, so I got blown apart by the bomb I lit so long ago.
It's time I stop running, and face up to what I've done. Only if I'm willing to do this
will the Lord show mercy on me. I must apologize, and pay the price -
even if in secret. Only then will the landslide that I created rush into the sea,
and be squelched by my honesty. Once I take this step, all will be well again,
and I will be able to live my life in peace, knowing that I have done all I can
to right my wrongs. And, when I die, the gates of Heaven will open wide,
and accept me unflinchingly. Then I'll truly know I've been forgiven.
Copyright © Cynthia Palmer-Ham | Year Posted 2014
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Cynthia Palmer-Ham Poem
If being wrong is such a sin, then why CAN we make mistakes? I'm sure that God
would have abandoned us all by now if He thought that we couldn't learn anything.
By making mistakes we take nature's paths to success. Figuring out whether we're
right or wrong can be half the fun of the trip - if we ride out our storms in the right way...
Learning lessons the hard way may not be as much fun as the other, but it also happens
for a reason, and my reasoning tells me that my eyes have needed opening each and
ev'ry time I have made a mistake. And, as time goes on, more and more each day I
realize that I am not perfect.
Copyright © Cynthia Palmer-Ham | Year Posted 2014
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