write a poem

    The Duck  Like a shoe in the socks drawer,  Or a tuxedo on a boar, A duck scrunched on our front porch, Apt as a Christmas tiki torch.   The duck wasn't expected And seemed disconnected. It's not difficult, though, to devine  His surprise was greater than mine.

Writing Poetry

I've been away for a time with a health issue. Back to writing today. What's your feeling about this one? thanks for your ideas. Like an undershirt in the socks drawer, Or a champagne flute in a sweater, A duck scrunched on our front porch, Apt as a Christmas tiki torch.  The duck wasn't expected And seemed totally disconnected. It appered nevertheless. Is it necessary to devine The duck's surprise was greater than mine?

Writing poetry

Jesse, Happy, Mickey and Stan

Jesse, Happy, Mickey and Stan,

Eddie, Charlie, Jocko and Sam.

"Always hustle; that's our plan.”

Grover, Sparky, Richie and Cap.

Ernie, Yogi, Roger and Nap.

"Watch the ball hit the bat."

Dizzy, Dazzy, Daffy  and Ted.

Reggie, Sandy, Jackie and Red.

"Eye on the ball, rule A to Zed."

Writing poetry,revision

Grover, Sparky, Richie and Cap.

Ernie, Yogi, Roger and Nap.

"Watch the ball hit the bat."

Jesse, Happy, Mickey and Stan,

Eddie, Charlie, Jocko and Sam.

"Always hustle; that’s my philosophy.”

Dizzy, Dazzy, Daffy  and Ted.

Reggie, Sandy, Jackie and Red.

"Keep your eye on the ball, A to Zed."

Writing poetry

Grover, Sparky, Richie and Cap.

Ernie, Yogi, Roger and Nap.

"Watch the ball hit the bat."

Jesse, Happy, Mickey and Stan,

Eddie, Charlie, Jocko and Sam.

"Always hustle; that’s my philosophy.”

Dizzy, Dazzy, Daffy  and Ted.

Reggie, Sandy, Jackie and Red.

"Keep your eye on the ball, A to Zed."

Four poems

    I’ve Come to Help You

I've come to help you, she said,

The wind is strong and it might

Blow you over. I don't want you to fall.

Two others called out:

First: Man, she's taking care of you;

Then: You're one lucky guy today.

She held out her elbow for

Him to take. They left

The building, headed for his car.

Watch your step, this wind

Is fierce. He tightened his hold

On her arm. Thanks, he said.

The southern sky was robin's egg blue;

Black clouds were approaching from the north.

In between, weather-making wind was buffeting.

Here we are, she said, opening his door.

He slid safely into the driver's seat,

Kissing his forehead, she patted his shoulder.

Made it! he shouted ceremoniously.

We usually do, she smiled.

He inserted the key into the ignition.

             

 Immanuel

The folk invoke their Immanuel.

Immanuel, Immanuel, God be with us!

Oprah, Oprah, the Barbies exult.

They wait for Judge Judy,

Then quiver in rapture

When the Judge and the Bird emerge.

Tyra, Tyra, the Thumbelinas praise!

On another stage Ellen conjures

The Believers' spirits,

Then they arise and rejoice.

Each time the floor director gives

The cue, the people go to a

Perfect world, riding My

Little Pony to Eden. A fulfilled

Life begins by pulling a string

Grounded in a memory chip.

Family Circle

At a round rest stop table

The usual can of pork

And beans, plain, nothing added

To make them seem more

Than they were, was the only side.

The mother prepared simple

Bologna sandwiches, neat,

With no mayo or lettuce,

And the ordinary meal

Became a summer picnic:

It was an unbroken circle,

Singing songs of childhood.

They were like westward

Pioneers who stopped

Someplace near here decades sooner

To locate themselves

In a family way.

      Standing in the snow

Nothing read on a screen can

Be considered anything like

A book, he said with a tenacious

Grip on certainty. A book is

A book is a book; it has pages

And it has a spine, he grumbled.

Books use words, of course,

Not pixels. To hold a book,

He said, just feels good.

Why do you suppose people

Created screens? I asked.

He was wearing sandals

Like a young man years earlier

Standing in the snow at

Hadrian's Wall, the pride

Of Rome and the civilized

World. He looked at me with

Imperious eyes and grunted:

They didn't do it for me.

Baseball and Love

Love is the most important thing in the world, but baseball is pretty good too.

For Easter . . .

These books aren’t sold at J. C. Penny, but they’re easily available elsewhere. When paired, they’d make nice Easter gifts (along with a box of candy, a bottle of chardonnay, or even a Mini Cooper).

1. SONGS OF SADNESS, SONGS OF LOVE, by Larry K. Andrews. (Mystery-Romance) This is the story of Ryan Graves, a young boy growing up. Not only does he have the usual fears of adolescence, but a physical disability causes him even greater agony and heightened fears and of being rejected by his peers. The reader watches this young man as he goes through middle school, high school, and the university with new emotional challenges at each level. This is a study about how people respond to challenging experiences in their lives; some people are overwhelmed and defeated by their challenges while others accept and accommodate them, moving onwards to successful adulthood.

2. THE CHINA-AFRICA PARALLAX: A RYAN AND GILLIAN MYSTERY, by Larry K. Andrews. (Action-Thriller) The China-Africa Parallax: A Ryan and Gillian Mystery describes how representatives of China and Africa are conspiring to steal research data from major US universities. They will kill anyone who gets in their way in order to achieve their ultimate goal: China’s economic and military domination of the world. This is a fast-moving mystery with an emphasis on today’s geo-political issues and economics. Ryan Graves and his wife, Gillian Davies, characters introduced in Songs of Sadness, Songs of Love, assume perilous, key roles central to the FBI strategy to thwart the devastating conspiracy.

Available at amazon.com and Barnes & Noble. Or, order e-books direct from amazon.com and Barnes & Noble or the Kindle Store.

Writing an unfinished poem.

My friend and book club colleague Janice Terry pointed out to me that poems are never "finished." We just abandon them for a while with a view to returning to the poem when we feel the inspiration. So, with Janice's words still on my mind, here's a "finished" poem.

        

I've come to help you, she said,

The wind is strong and it might

Blow you over. I don't want you to fall.

Two others called out:

First: Man, she's taking care of you;

Then: You're one lucky guy today.

She held out her elbow for

Him to take. They left

The building, headed for his car.

Watch your step, this wind

Is fierce. He tightened his hold

On her arm. Thanks, he said.

The southern sky was robin's egg blue;

Black clouds were approaching from the north.

In between, weather-making wind was buffeting.

Here we are, she said, opening his door.

He slid safely into the driver's seat,

Kissing his forehead, she patted his shoulder.

Made it! he shouted ceremoniously.

We usually do, she smiled.

He inserted the key into the ignition.