Tuesday, January 30, 2018

SNOWBOARDER

I stand at the top of the slope looking down

I'm here with my wife on a date outside town

We're bundled from head to the toes in our boots

Surveying the skiers that zoom down the chutes

We're strapped in our bindings and ready to go

To have a great time in the powdery snow

Our boards cut through edges and carve out our groove

My wife is quite good so I feel I must prove

That I can keep up and be cool as she is

To glide like an eagle with grace like a wiz.

But gravity's not much a friend to poor me

I slide round befuddled a lot like a bee

That can't fly so graceful 'cause bees aren't so good

At being like eagles on a thin piece of wood.

So zig zagging down the mountain I slide

Completely without an ounce of cool pride

But never without a smile on my face

'Cause after I fall she's there to embrace

She kisses me soft at the base of the slope

And lifts up my spirits to load me with hope

A true friend to me who fills life with thrills

And takes me advent'ring on snow covered hills






Monday, January 29, 2018

BLACK HOLE


Black, bleak barreling through space bending light round its void

Devouring, destroying, chugging down stars
in the Milky Way

Searching, scouring space, sucking in
all in its reach.

A dense mass of tightly packed
fear and the unknown

Wrapped in a dazzling twilight of
beauty and awe


Brittanie and I watched some very interesting documentaries on Black Holes. A black hole is at the center of EVERY galaxy in the universe. So crazy! There is so much to learn...and some times fear.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

WANDERING IN THE WHIRLY WINDY WHITE

Wandering in the whirly windy white
Lost amid this icy wintery sight
Wondering whether
The weather will get better

Fidgeting frozen fingers freezing from
Lack of radiant warmth coming from the sun
Why this foul weather
That's freezing this fowl's feathers?

Shivering sheepishly shamed by the snow
Like a summer toad against this wintery foe
Will this scene ever
Be seen as sizzling weather?

Chittering, chattering teeth and chapped cheeks
Lots of grizzled clouds looming round for weeks
Whipped collar weather
Will boil your choler redder!


My dad wrote a variety of poems. Many of his best poem where about nature. But my dad seemed to capture what we saw as normal in a wit and curious way. I tried to do this about winter. I love the winter, but there at times that I struggle. This poem's whimsy in the usage of alliterations, homophones and broken rhythm is an expression of what I love about winter. While the actual words are what sting me about winter.

Friday, January 12, 2018

GENERATIONS' GIFTS

The wooden box held time itself
With scrapes and gouges in the sides.
It sat there angled on the shelf
Unmoved, lid closed it now resides

For several years forgotten, then
A man walks past in deep, deep thought
Espies the box, recalls again
The treasures placed within that spot.

Awakened from his reverie
With eagerness and hasty mind
The man draws near the box to see
What tokens there he left behind.

In hand he takes the old wood chest
Blows off the dust and notes aside
It bears a weight of heftiness
What richly wealth was hid inside?

Excited, he removes the lid
With highly hopes and dreams resound
Looks down upon what's now unhid
And sees three simple items found.

Somewhat with feelings of chagrin
That he had kept just three small things
He took the first with gleeful grin
Awakening rememberings.

He held in hand an old pen knife.
And with its touch was flooded then
With memories of Granddad's life,
His tales of war returned again.

His Granddad gave to him this blade
When he was young to keep and use
And with its gift a lesson weighed
About the words he hoped he'd choose.

For Granddad said to each is grant
His tongue by God and like this knife
Can cut and stab like sword in hand
In thoughtless speech of spite and strife.

But those who grace the world in speech
That's wise and good, as quoth the psalm
Will still the storm, the poor will reach
To heal their heart with Gilead's Balm.

The pocket knife he then returned
Into the box with thoughtful hope,
And took the next to be decerned
That lay inside an envelope.

The paper pouch contained a pair
Of cuff links made of brass and gold
His father gave to him to wear
The day he took his bride to hold.

And with this gift a lesson shone
His father kind to him advised.
The cuff link pair had worth alone
But when combined they're truly prized.

This moral wise is also true
Of those who strive to be agreed.
Through work and prayer they can accrue
A price divine, none can exceed.

He placed the cuff links back with care
With hope these lessons would remain.
And drew the final token there
A silver watch with gilded chain.

A gift of love from his own son
That he received one Christmas Day
To honor him for all he'd done
A gift that time would ne'er decay.

A pocket watch with locket door,
Inside inscribed read, "To my dad,
Who e'er made time for me and more
To laugh and dream, for this I'm glad."

A cherished prose that lit his soul
It brought back thoughts of time well played
Upon the lakes and sandy shoals
To raise a boy, foundations laid

The hands of time will always turn
And we must ever seize the day,
And fight for all that we so yearn
Else fast shall fly from us away.

Returning now the time piece back
Unto its place amid the rest
And gently closed the lid a crack
Upon the shelf returned the chest

Until the day it would appease
A tired soul to raise and lift,
To gaze upon blessed memories
And all his generations' gifts.



This poem was meant to be written for the New Year, but I was having trouble getting the right words out. I hope it brings brilliance to the storms we all face. This year remember the kindness of others and the love they have for you. Look around you every day for the lessons that life will teach. Write them down. Share them. What gifts have you been given that have brought great meaning to you? Share them in the comments below. Thank you for reading! 

GALILEE MY HOME

Oh Setting Sun of ol’ Berkay
Thy red rock walls in full array
Warm my frame by its display
Signalling I’m home.

Leaning out o’er our skyship’s bow
Extending ‘yond what would allow
I see your towers closer now.
Excited that I’m home.

Our captain barks out his command
The crew move swift, I lend a hand
To take the ship down near the sand
Nearing to my home.

Descending through a turbid cloud
We then brake free from its thick shroud
In glee I raise my voice aloud
"Galilee, I’m home!"

Galilee’s gates are open wide.
Though her walls are cracked and dried
Her crimson flag flies high with pride
Welcoming me home.

The busy street and sand worn road
Once served as homes where I abode
My path has changed, so has my code.
Is this still my home?

But, the people frank, an avowed race
They greet us now with warm embrace
Upon each cheek a kiss they place
Greetings from my home.

Among the people I walk the street
Through Galilee I meet and greet
To hide my mirth is quite the feat.
Elated that I’m home.

Old friends come out from shady lairs
They lure me with their shiny wares
To come, return, lose all my cares
Steal away my home.

I’m sitting now in Kihnsed’s tow’r
Contemplating the midnight hour
Looking over the desert’s pow’r
Drawing me back home.

Can I escape these walls I see
Of stone and sand ’round my city
Surrounding this, my Galilee?
Abandoning my home?

A song upon the wind I hear
A distant cry, its drawing near
Her voice—-a spell; her words are clear,
"Tadje, come back home."

Remember I, where my quest stands.
It beckons me to leave the sands
And place I must in Asha’s hands
The mem’ry of my home.

I turn and wave goodbye, adieu
Heading back towards Chaaya’s crew
Return again, my vow renew
Leaving now my home.

But just before I leave I kneel
In honor there near Chaaya’s keel
And with my hand the sand I feel
A token from my home.

Aboard the ship we rise up high
Towards the deep blue azure sky
From o’er the rail aloud I cry,
"Galilee my home!"


This poem I wrote awhile back with my gaming group. We were playing in a fantasy setting where we soared around in a skyship called Chaaya's Quest. My character was a wizard from a desert city called Galilee. His mentor, Kihnsed, lived in Galilee too in a typical wizard's tower.

I wanted to post this one as I was behind a week working on my New Year's poem.





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