poetry

i sing of Alex

Sally4 Comments

i sing of Alex slender and brave
interjected self to save
a woman pushed
pepper-sprayed
oh, if Alex had only stayed
home (and watched the news)
but instead
armed with phone
(and holstered legal gun)
he reached out to help
(as any nurse would
caring
for the
SUFFE-
Ring)
BAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAM
agents counted bullet holes
as Alex lay dying
(minneapolis crying)

This week’s W3 challenge is to write a poem that is inspired by another poet.

My favorite poet has long been e. e. cummings. His poem, i sing of Olaf glad and big, is a powerful story that leaves me with a knot in my stomach every time I read it.

Do I love that poem? I love its power. I love its grittiness. I love that poetry can produce a knot in my stomach, and still make me want to read it again.

A to Z Blogging Challenge

P is for Pram

Sally5 Comments

There once was this thing called a pram
In which were placed sweet little lambs
Babies galore
In their perambula-tor
[how would you finish this limerick?]

Ocean Grove, 8-24-30
1957?

The top photo is my dad. The photo was dated and labeled.

The bottom photo is my sister. It was not (labeled). I just know my sister.

A to Z Blogging Challenge

O is for Owen

Sally2 Comments

There once was a cousin named Owen
Whose name we kept a-goin’
With son number two
Whose eyes were so blue
[can you finish this limerick for me?]

I thought my father had a cousin named Owen and that he could possibly be one of these children. However, when I checked my family tree, I couldn’t find a cousin Owen. I did, however, find my father’s Uncle Owen.

Note to self: label photos. Keep good records. Don’t trust your memory — it won’t last.

This is my son Owen — many years ago after a watercolor extravaganza.

When we chose his name, it was because it was a family name — and we didn’t know a single other Owen. Now it seems like Owens abound.

A to Z Blogging Challenge · poetry

N is for Nurse

Sally3 Comments

There once was a lovely young nurse
To whom hiking and camping was not averse
What began with a “hello”
From a young handsome fellow
[can you finish my limerick for me?]

My mom and dad met when she was working nights as a nurse. My father had the job of picking up IV bottles from the inpatient floors and bringing them to Central Sterilization. (It’s a job that no longer exists. Thanks, plastic.)

Anyway, as he was making his rounds, she and my father started chatting about hiking and camping in New England. The rest is history.

Faith · family · Life

Serenity

Sally17 Comments

From the time I was young, I had trouble waiting
Always-late-people? So irritating!
Delayed planes and buses — very frustrating
I wished I could be easygoing!

Yes, I was impatient — but wanted to change
So I started to pray (does that sound somewhat strange?)
I thought that I knew what God could/would arrange
Truth is — I asked without knowing

Well, God sent me teachers — one at a time
For a total of eight — tiny, helpless, sublime
This slow learner experienced shift paradigm
While all of my children were growing

Sereneness is seeing the blue of the sky
Feeling the sun, watching bees fly
Being in moments ‘stead of letting them by
Not going faster, but slowing

So I learned to slow down from my children eight
Little knowing, indeed, what was my next fate
Aging parents, dementia, at the next gate
No regrets — just love overflowing

For eight I witnessed their very first day
For two I was present as they passed away
Each one a miracle in its own way
Listen — do you hear the wind blowing?

This is my response to this week’s W3 challenge.

Poet of the Week, Nigel Byng, challenged us to “Write a paean about a moment of personal triumph. This can be something from your past, something you are currently experiencing, or something you envision for your future. The moment should feel meaningful—something that changed you, clarified something essential, or marked a quiet or dramatic victory.”

A to Z Blogging Challenge · aging · family

J is for Joy

Sally4 Comments

There once was a boy and an ocean
When they first met, what emotion!
Joy and delight!
Giggles! (Some fright)
[how would you finish this limerick?]

This is a photo of my oldest brother and (I think) my aunt. I’m guessing it’s Ocean Grove, New Jersey, but I could be wrong. I just know that my father and his family used to go there. They nicknamed it Ocean Grave, I think because there were a lot of older people there.

Bear in mind, all of this could be totally wrong.

The expression on my brother’s face, though, is undeniable joy.

I was reading this morning from William Willimon’s book Accidental Preacher — a self-illustrated memoir — and came across this little sketch:

From William Willimon’s memoir, Accidental Preacher

He had based his sketch on a photo. Here’s what he said,

I love that photo’s depiction of one of the great joys of aging — leading a little one toward the grand adventure of the wide world, gripping his hand reassuringly, egging him on to face into the wind and leap the waves.

But yesterday, when I looked at that picture of the two of us — the little boy and the old man — it occurred to me that I had misread that moment. I, who always thought that I was leading the child, saw that I was being led…

He was all future; I was now mostly past. In truth, the little one, still fresh in the world, had me by the hand, encouraging me to make my way into the deep…