Poem: Purloining Power

Purloining Power

Oh, I know what you say: a great honor

It is to be elected legislator,

You get to write laws that we must foller

As we country bumpkins dwell in the holler.

Doesn’t it say in the constitution

An educated electorate is

Necessary for the good of common

Welfare in a democracy? It is.

Yet here you go writing laws to destroy

Schools and prevent in every way their

Ability to levy taxes, your ploy

To derail schools so we are unaware

That you have stolen the power from us

Who, as the people, need to be kept from

The darkness of an autocracy, plus

You say the Blaine Amendment is just some

Old fashioned way to keep God out of government

Because we must follow His ways as it

Says in the Bible. But wait, that’s a blunt

Way of forcing your beliefs down our throats.

The serpent was never as deceitful

As you, gently legislating away

Our democracy because it is well

Known you are honorable, as you say.

Forgive me if I don’t go out of my way

To kiss your hand that would slap the power

Out of my educated head, that way

You can have honor purloining power.

March 2023

About This Poem

I have had a negative feeling about the Idaho legislature's need to control local education and make demands while underfunding for years. This poem is my frustration about that. It seems that it's only getting worse. And I seriously do believe that many of the people in power are corrupt and want the populace to be uneducated so they are easier to control. Look at the American desire to believe the craziest of conspiracies! Just gets worse as we go. The photo is of the Senate Chambers in Boise.

 

Poem: The Universe Converges at Dinner

The Universe Converges at Dinner

Around the dinner table the universe

Converges—gathers?—collects? Perhaps is?

The future sits down as past dishes out

Nourishment and the eternity of 

Generations finitely gathered to 

Celebrate infinity that brought them

Here to commune of things that do matter—

Never mind the fluff, the posturing of

Class or caste or whatever you call it—

Because each member gathered here can tell

Of things infinitely important like sense:

Smell, sight, touch, sound, and taste (for here we dine).

Of these we must not deny each other

While inexpressibly giving all our

Thanks for our communion through the senses

Of existence, that is something difficult—

That is inexpressibly beautiful

In its pain and pleasure because it is.

In our communion is our sustenance

Lead by recognition that it gives life

For which we must be eternally grateful.

It is here that we feast upon that known—

That divine power that has given us 

Existence that without we would be naught.

Bring here your burdens and all of your joys

For here you can be everything you 

Were meant to be, forgiven wholly now

For missing that point that you are forever

And you were meant to be nourished with His

Bread and wine, his body and blood always.

March 2023

 

About This Poem

This poem is clearly about communion in a Christian sense, but not necessarily in church. I feel like anywhere we dine together we are the two or three gathered in His name and that makes Him part of the dinner. Eating together is communion whether you are Christian or not. That's what this poem is about. I just happen to be a Christian so that's my approach. It also occurred to me that I could write an entirely different poem, or even a comical short story based upon this poem having next to nothing to do with communion in a spiritual sense. Maybe I'll do that... And the picture is of the dining room in the House of Seven Gables in Salem, Massachusetts. That could lend a bit of witchcraft to the communion, but I really am a muggle in spite of my name. But it is a nice dining room situation....

 

Poem: To Watch the Sunset

To Watch the Sunset

To watch the sunset

in a different part of the world

for the first time

is to see new colors,

shapes unknown before,

feelings new within your being,

youth renewed.

Step away from your own life

for awhile,

feel the intensity of living

and shake off the January frost

of routine becoming monotony.

A sunset on a prairie lake in Minnesota,

a change of the guard in Ottawa,

a little house on the South Dakota prairie,

an A frame in the Green Mountains of Vermont,

nestled in a deciduous forest

far removed from the Samaritan Mountains

of the desert of southern Idaho

and then to return and breathe 

the dry mountain sage as if

it were the first time.

January 2006

About This Poem:

I haven't posted on here this month, National Poetry Month, because I've been away in Hawaii being a beach bum. This poem, while not mentioning Hawaii or Kauai (where I was), touches on the importance of travel to me. So I wanted to share it here after my travels. The photo, while not a particularly beautiful sunset (though later it was) was from Poipu Beach where we were watching the return of the parakeets that roost in the palms there. So I hope this poem inspires you to take a trip, no matter how far or near.

 

Poem: Snow Fairies

Snow Fairies

In the silent hour of winter

Just before the black of night

When the last pinks and blues 

Have recovered themselves and 

Scuttled away from your sight,

Mothers and fathers have come home from work

And school children have brought home their studies.

The lamps have been lighted, the fires burn bright

Then snow fairies come out to play in delight.

November 2000

About This Poem

It's April Fool's Day, so I thought (since it has snowed both yesterday and today at times) that I should share a snow poem. I found this one in my journal and noticed a childlike sense of audience in it, probably because my boys were little when I wrote it. I like childlike poems and snow. So, since we're all tired of it, one last snow for the season. April Fools! 

The picture is, obviously, of snowflakes on my deck. The glitter of a true snow fairy is seemingly not photographable (like unicorns and other seemingly [but perhaps not] mythical beings) but snowflakes in all their intricate design are.