My Mother Has 4 Noses - The Memory Wall

My father - Jonatha Brooke's Memory Wall

Poem: Ostriches

Ostriches

They are flat-earth in thinking

For no proof will provide

The reasons for changing

Toward the facts they’ve denied

Our climate’s been altered

What we’ve done is at root

A snowfall in winter

Doesn’t make this point moot

Half-wits won’t notice

‘For their head’s in the sand

While our ice caps are melting

They pretend all is grand

Sandy served as precursor

For the floods will soon come

As the coastlines we live on

To the oceans succumb

Temperatures rising

To unmatching, new heights

Earth-cracking droughts

There is no end in sight

We consume, we devour

And we squander at will

Unless we evolve

Our demise we’ll fulfill

With unfettered destruction

And the fools of FOX “News”

The threat is expansive

There is too much to lose

  

Copyright SGW 2014

Poem: Monsters

Monsters

They resided under the bed

I knew they were there

Lift the bed’s apron … twice

Quickly!

Nothing

They were there

Trust me

Never a threat

Until a finger to a light switch

So all went dark

And they were there

Run to the bed!

Tuck the blanket in fully around me

My only defense

Yet here I sit today

Having warded off the monsters

Hidden under my childhood bed

They were there

Copyright SGW 2014

Footnote:  Poetry prompt #243 in Melissa Donovan’s “1200 Creative Writing Prompts”

Poem: Ends

Ends

Moments pass as clocks spin

Little nooks of happiness reveal

Warmths of joyful pleasure

Linger in these pockets of sanctuary

For their finite nature is absolute

And they fade from view

As life moves to other destinations

Consciously, one must breathe in these jewels of time

Mental images marking what has come

And gone

The sadness of that which is lost …

Is it lost?

Or just embraced within

While some new adventure gestates

I will miss what has ended

But also rejoice in the beautiful memory

For then it lives forever

  

Copyright SGW 2013

Poem: War On Christmas

War On Christmas

  

“It’s wartime on Christmas,” says the charlatan voice

Reveling in tantrums instead of godly rejoice

Each year like clockwork comes the passionate fury

The attack on what’s “holy” in their self-righteous glory

In a nation three-quarters Christian it is hard to conceive

As to who’s actually threat to exactly what to believe

Perpetuation of fraud lies at root of the frenzy

To whip up the masses, requires indignation aplenty

For where is the gospel in these preachers of lying?

Lacking of love holds intolerant plying

Demanding that all of the people must comply to their stricture

Unbending beliefs seem quite removed from the scripture

The populace shopping to capitalistic vulgarity

Where is the outcry to our moneyed depravity?

And all of the symbols from a pagan’s beginning

Since no origin in Jesus, is a Christmas tree sinning?

The truth is the message is meant to divide us with hate

The fake war on Christmas:  Deceive … Inculcate

It is all an illusion by the worst of the lot

The one thing assured; any God they’ve forgot

 Copyright SGW 2013/2016

Nelson Mandela

I have always felt that it is somewhat excessive when we make a big deal out of the death of famous people. Plenty of "regular" people die every day, too, and many of them were good, caring, decent people who made a difference in the world that will be lasting and positive.

Today, though, Nelson Mandela, has passed and the world has lost something it has rarely held. Nelson Mandela had his flaws and warts, I am sure. However, we would all be hard-pressed to find many people who have lived a life that was so given to good works, noble causes and decency. Mandela sacrificed much of his own life and pleasure for a greater good. In doing so, he never seemed to succumb to hatred, loss of dignity or corruption of even the slightest bit. Hopefully, he has left a path for not only South Africans, but all of us, that shows how we should live with each other and treat each other.

There are few people from history who I genuinely consider heroic. Nelson Mandela was one of those people, and I am truly saddened by his passing because I miss knowing that I share this world with such a great person.

Poem: Red Molly

Red Molly (Red Molly)

  

Harmonious beauty from angelical sounds

The rhythmic flowing of the music astounds

Eyes closed in wonder as the notes cast their charm

Melodious ocean of these songbirds disarm

The healing vibrations breathe a life-giving force

A three-part performance is the stage and the source

Warming of spirit can be felt in their presence

For the purest of pleasures, represent the quintessence

The listener leaves nourished with remarkable calm

Sustained by the power of mellifluous balm

Which finds me next morning with this pad and this pen

Inspired to writing ‘til I hear them again

Copyright SGW 2013

Poem: Fanatics

Fanatics

  

Fear takes its measure in infinite shaping

An ignorant basis there can be no escaping

Intolerant, fanatic, often religiously zealous

Cling to a panic that is fervently jealous

Limited thinking is the fabric it’s sown

Science discarded, fact-based reason disowned

Blindly accepting carnival barker’s lament

They preach as if righteous; somehow heavenly sent

They can only find comfort in what their mirrors reflect

Frightened by difference; twisted cause and effect

Racism bred from an uncertain dread

“Brown people coming and a black as our ‘head’”

Create boogeyman government to nourish their story

The more they can fear then the more to their glory

Twisted and tangled in deformity of view

The fear’s all they know, so they mindlessly do

  

Copyright SGW 2013

Poem: Nothing

Nothing

Clock ticks

Counting down windows of opportunity

Until the squeeze is felt

It pinches

Chokes

And it leaves one with vanquished resolve

The aloneness is palpable

Any promise, but a lie’s nom de guerre

Eventually waking up

Taking in reflections

Seeing nothing

Nothing

Nothing at all

Some clouds have no silver lining

They are dark, wide and threatening

And when the rains come

They’ve always come

The torrent never relents

Copyright SGW 2013

Poem: Pocono Mountain Morning

Pocono Mountain Morning

Pocono Mountain morning

Heavy rain beats down on roof above

Brushing and splattering upon the green scenery on display

Watch droplets on the window

Listen to the pat, pat, pattering

Kayaks sit idly for now

Near the sweeping waters aroused by the storm

Breathe in the morning

Wetness all around purifies the world

And me

Others sleep

I’ll sit in this chair

Shifted to a window’s view

Writing

That’s what I do

Copyright SGW 2013

Poem: Counsel

Counsel

Awash in emotions long-contained deep within
This perilous path must dig deep ‘neath the skin
The hiding in masks only serves to benumb
And parts need all parts to equate to the sum
Fear is the riddle ever twisting of thought
You’ve been found passing by what’s forever been sought
Where often the journey leaves indelible mark
The lessons of scars can be blessedly stark
Travel in circles, sometimes roads know no end
A map has been laid … and the world will amend
Answers yield questions too numerously given
The perfectly placed left subconsciously riven
The crossroads are met with a reckoning glance
Left yet unwritten – walk away or advance?

Copyright SGW 2013

Khaled Hosseini: "And The Mountains Echoed"

This is not a review.  How could I presume to review Khaled Hosseini?  The author of "A Thousand Splendid Suns" and the classic "The Kite Runner," has now given the world "And The Mountains Echoed."

Whether the details of his previous stories remain whole or in part, the essence of Hosseini's work lingers.  It is alive and well again, in "And The Mountains Echoed," as he bring another tale centered around Afghanistan; a country for most of us that is nothing more than "the place where terrorists were and a lot violence remains."

Again, this is not a review; just some random thoughts I find myself holding after finishing reading the book only moments ago.  Hosseini's gift is the ability to bring to the pages extreme pains and hardships, yet blend in an unexplained peacefulness and serenity.  Then, in the tears of beautiful interweavings of life that yield promises that life has heart, hope and love, even within all the struggles, there is also the subtle, stubborn aching.

I loved "A Thousand Splendid Suns."  It is a story of incredible honesty.  It hurts and feels good at once.  As I cried my way through the final 50 or so pages, ultimately ending in a place of calm, sorrow, bitterness, warmth ... life, I am aware that it will be several days before I can even consider reading something else.

Poem: Storms

Storms

Storm on horizon is warning

Darkest of skylines now forming

Calm does not mask what soon beckons

Illy prepared will be reckoned

The heart, it can pulse through disaster

Rhythmic beat ever faster

But can hearts be alive acquiescing

To the death of the void coalescing

Wreckage is strewn all-surrounding

Listen for faintest of pounding

A mixture of living and dying

Spilled milk cares not for your crying

Copyright SGW 2012

Poem: Dreaming of Mr. Rogers

Dreaming of Mr. Rogers

The story's from my youthful days

Recurring dream whose memory stays

Not bent of anger or violent mind

I more was mild and rather kind

The dream still lingers, is yet to fade

It's time I tell through poem laid

Of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood

His virtues clear and understood

The scene is set with common thread

The homespun den, the sweater red

With sneakers tied and smiling bright

Yet strangely see was late at night

A knocking door, his head had turned

Who could it be would soon be learned

A lion stood upon the rise

A flowing mane and fiercest eyes

And poor old Fred with panicked feel

No make believe, but lion's meal

  

Copyright SGW 2006

Footnote:   Based on an actual, recurring dream I had well into my twenties.  I know, I have a twisted side.

Poem: Tears

Tears

World leaves its imprint in many a fashion
Feeds on our longings, consumes of our passion
‘Nary a notice as to where it will spring
When least it’s expected, best expect anything

Man at the grocer’s is awash in full grief
Need to unburden yet can bear no relief
Son, thirty-eight, was just taken away
The heartbroken father left in shattered dismay

All we can offer is to listen and nod
When the man walks away I unmask my façade
Shed me a tear and my voice loses power
These are the moments where emotion will flower

But tears come from places of often sunny condition
Where a heartfelt conviction writes a warm composition
Simple sent message from a dear, special friend
“Happy to have you in our lives” she’d extend

Eyes start to moisten with the love this conveys
Reminder to self:  Ample good’s on display

In these polar extremes lies the binding of living
Sometimes it’s taking and sometimes it’s giving
Hardship can break us to a point of demise
‘Til angels of mercy breathe new strength to arise

Tears have been shed for the better and worse
Life is a blessing and life is a curse
Life is the challenge of entangled emotion
Nothing is rooted, for life’s constant motion

Copyright SGW 2013