DEBBIE

                SHE FORGOT TO WRITE HER NAME

She was in a rush, at least walking fast.

I thought she might walk on past,

But she didn’t.

She became intrigued by what I was asking.

Asking questions about what her friends knew,

And when they knew it, sort of presidential questions.

“Who are you, and why are you questioning them?” she asked.

“It’s a fun way of finding out more information about friends,” I said.

“What do you mean?” she asked, evidently not convinced.

“Put down ten questions about yourself with answers,” I said.

“Everybody has secrets, more than what you read.”

She was convinced suddenly, and her questions flowed like water in a stream,

Tumbling one after another, as in a rapidly growing dream.

“I want to see what you see when you talk about me.”

Then she blurted, “I want you to make a poem about me!”

In case you are ready to assign blame,

Debbie is her name. Also known as ‘LIL Debbie.

She loves being a grandma with nine kids,

And loves her own three children, if you should ask.

She loves to travel, evidently enjoying the company of others,

Every day she does extra things that make people smile,

 whether it’s a friend, a patient or a stranger.   

She’s married and she loves the food her husband cooks.

Debbie is a shopper extraordinaire, using coupons to have fun

But still stay on a budget.

Debbie was a single mom with three children and three jobs

For many years.  That kept her strong through the years of tears.

Debbie might ask anyone some questions, as I found out.

She wants answers that don’t leave any doubts.

She had to scramble to keep up with her kids,

And she learned to be a multitasker in order to cope.

Debbie is an optimist with lots of hope. 

If you want more information look for her smile,

Then sit her right down and chat for a while.

June 24, 2017

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JUST ONE MOMENT

Life is a temporary stop in our journey through the heavens.  We will have time to visit without feeling rushed. We will  sing or dance or do all the things we imagined we could do.

Time is a variable. Each plant and each animal has its own time line. My space is located within the space allocated to humans.

I am a transient passing through worlds parallel, overlapping, and superimposed but to me there is only one lifetime I can live. I tried to explain all that to Albert but he was having trouble understanding all of the concepts.  Finally I said, “Albert, time is relative.”

We took a train trip and I explained the difference between riding in the train and watching the train go by. It took a while but gradually he began to understand.  I think he might be able to explain several theories if he pays attention but he is still fuzzy about the speed of light and how light can be bent and go even faster.  I’ll explain it again next week. I’d hate for him to give up when he’s this close. On the other hand, he could learn to be a poet and become famous. No one ever gets famous learning obscure mathematical theories. And maybe Albert could be a politician. No one ever knows what they’re talking about.  (or cares)

June 21, 2017

OTHERS, LIARS AND MANY MORE

OTHERS, LIARS, AND MANY  MORE

 

Hezer did not listen to their lies.  Everything they said seemed to be poisoned arrows aimed directly at him. Why did they continue to speak their malicious words? Why were they lying? What had he done to deserve this?

                More and more people were beginning to hate him.  He could feel the hatred, see their eyes grow cold, and know they were talking about him behind his back. “Don’t talk to him. He’s not someone we want to associate with.” “Did you hear what he wants to do now?” “People are disappearing.  He’s got to be stopped before it gets worse.”

 The lies were growing, stretching from small sores into festering, gaping wounds that he could not stop.  The more the lies were told, the more the lies were believed. The lies became the truth, comprehended and interpreted to be facts.   Facts were created out of imagined truths and soon there was no distinction between fact and fiction.

His skin was brown and soft, different from theirs.  He was one of the newly created liars, his DNA altered by scientists eager to produce a race of people who could survive under the extreme conditions of a nuclear war.

 At first scientists were proud to claim they had made improvements to mankind. But it was only a matter of time before things began to change.

 The media began with grandiose announcements informing the general public that scientists were gods capable of building a new future.   With the cooperation of everyone the new people could be blended into everyday life with no harmful results. The new people were reputed to be extraordinary workers, requiring less sleep and less rest. In addition, they were very friendly. That brought up the possibility of less hate between nations and less wars.  On paper and in controlled situations everything seemed perfect.  Everybody was thrilled to see changes being made.

As the years passed and war loomed over mankind without actually happening, the differences between the liars and normal humans became festering sores.  All the things humans wanted to do, the new people insisted they could do better.  The liars were reputed to jump higher, run faster, and have better sex.

A lie gets better in the telling, while the truth is always the same.  Stories became ludicrous as the stories stretched and grew.  The liars changed the truth in small increments, made the lies deceive humans who were ready to believe.  Scientists rushed to tell the truth and make claims based on fact, but it was too late.  The lies were no longer lies.  They had been told too often with no opposition and now all the people believed them.

Because the liars had few differences, the others, (the common humans) were concerned the liars

would begin taking over. The others struck first, quietly replacing the liars in their jobs. Humans retook  power positions. This time the others were careful to keep the appearance of being fair with no discrimination.  Laws were enacted to increase the number of lies. Lawyers, politicians, and sales personnel were expected to lie consistently.  Their habits were already well established.

The truth is plain, although it has been known to be naked, harsh, or ugly.  Lies come in many colors, and can be very pretty or very ugly.  The liars came in many colors, which made them very special and easily seen.  They were often targets and many had been attacked and killed by frustrated others. Although liars liked being noticed and admired, they were opposed to being killed. The others, or humans as they liked to be called, deviated from the plain truth, and many others would testify in court that liars did not have as many witnesses as others did.  Therefore the liars must be lying. Others ignored the fact that “it only takes one to tell the truth. It takes many to keep a lie.”

Wars did not stop because the liars were created. Wars were often started because of miscommunication between political groups. Liars became the scapegoats in many countries and were forced to defend the truth, especially when others covered up the truth or divided it into small portions.  Liars continued to ask for the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

The world became divided into four distinct levels.  But that was after the world lost much of its wisdom and hope. It was a time of lies and secrets, a time to restore life and love, and a time when all things beautiful became a part of truth. But that’s another story that deserves to be embellished and expanded, stretched and interpreted, loved and hated, and turned into choices which began at the very beginning of time.

 

Others became the highest group. Liars were the middle group. Many were in the next level.

The lowest group were the poets, singers, philosophers, and others who told the truth.  

June 4, 2017

 

 

Imaginary

What is imaginary? Except for distorted stories, embellished lies, and mathematical impossibilities, imagination is a loneliness changer.  When I was growing up in the verdant hills of Oklahoma, I had a lot of time to think alone and invent playmates.

There was no television set, radio, or big city lights. I did have a younger brother who was my shadow.  He followed me around and we studied snakes, insects, farm animals, and people.  Life was exciting when we let our imaginations take over.

We played marbles, climbed trees, invented implements of destruction, captured crawdads, knocked down wasp nests, and read.  Sometimes I thought my brother was the lucky one because he was two years younger.  Because of his age some of our neighbors thought he was entitled to life’s little extras.

One neighbor, Mrs. Olson, lived alone in the house next door.  Once or twice a week I would go to her house and draw ten to fifteen buckets of water from her well for her cooking water and her bath water.  While I worked, she would read to Billy.  Often she would get out her family pictures and show Billy places she had traveled. I was envious that Billy got to use her viewer because the pictures were 3D.  Although I was irritated, I also noticed he was given cookies and ice cream.  I believed in fairness and this was not fair!

We moved every two or three years as my dad got a new job.  There were always new neighbors and new friends and new things to discover.  I was in the habit  of picking up little sacks which had been thrown on the ground.  The sacks originally contained bubble gum and were always empty.  On a string looped at the top of the bag was a small cardboard circle.  When I pulled on a circle the bag would tighten and the contents remained inside.  My intentions were to keep my steelies, cats eyes, boulders, and other marbles in a bag without losing them.

But one day when my imagination was running wild, and I was bored, I told Billy he could collect ten of those circles and the people at the store would exchange them for an ice cream cone.  I watched him rushing around gathering the circles, pleased with myself for playing such a prank.  After ten circles were in his possession, he went into the store. I expected Billy to come out of the store mad or crying.  Instead, he was carrying and eating a huge ice cream cone.

“How did you get that cone?” I asked.

“Just like you said. I traded the circles for the ice cream.  Thanks for telling me!”

My mouth fell open. Then I raced around picking up circles.  When I went inside the clerk said, “Sorry. That was the last ice cream given away. Maybe next week.”  I was disappointed but forever hopeful as week after week I stopped at the store looking for my ice cream.

My world was small and yet it was filled with ghost stories, constellations, woodland animals, insects, and warm gingerbread.  I did not have to imagine family love.  It was always there.

June 3, 2017

IMPRESSION

Impression

The king was young and energetic but he was tired of wars, tired of negotiating, tired of having to race around his kingdom assuring his subjects he would be there to rally the troops. If an opposing army threatened, the king needed an envoy, someone who would represent the king and prove that he did indeed represent the king. The representative to leave earlier so the king could organize his followers and hide his treasures.
If the envoy was not loyal, it could be disastrous. If his subjects knew the king had sent the envoy and believed him to be a true subject, they would rally to the cause. There had to be a way to keep the king’s picture, or an impression of him, fresh in his people’s memories.
He summoned his wise men and presented them with the problem. He said, “I can’t continue at the current pace of racing around the countryside like a politician, making sure my subjects remember who I am. I have to get enough support to remain king. Someone has to represent me at the political action committees, kiss enough babies, promise enough victories, raise enough money to pay for all the castles, fund the crusades, etc. When will I have time for all that? I want people to believe my vice-king is telling the truth, just like I do.”
The wise men sat in a circle and discussed the problem. They began to shake their heads. “There is no way someone can represent the king and the truth. No one looks or sounds like the king and no one believes he always tells the truth. And who can draw enough pictures that look like the king? Every picture is a little bit different. Fraud investigators would have a field day with that one.”
A young waitress was pouring tankards of ale and overheard their conversation. “Sirs, every person sits down differently and leaves a different impression on their chair’s cushion. The King has been riding most of the day. He always leaves a broad impression.”
The wise men considered her words carefully. “We agree, but that impression is too large and not very long lasting.”
The waitress considered that for a moment. “Last night the king was so tired he did not remove all of his jewelry when he was getting ready for bed. He was still writing out his thoughts for his speech tomorrow and he accidently let his hand with the royal ring rest against one of the candles. I will show you.” She returned a few minutes later with a candle. “See? His ring made quite an impression. Everyone who kisses his ring and pledges loyalty will recognize his ring’s imprint.”
The wise men intended to give the young waitress a good tip for being so helpful but one of the men mentioned to the others that she was blonde. “We would appear to be fools if a blonde woman was given credit for being wise. One of us should get credit”.
They drew lots and the winner went to the king and reported the good impression regarding the wax. Unfortunately, this occurred while the king’s ratings were low and he was desperate to make a good impression on his subjects. The king had the wise man beheaded. Dead men tell no tales, and the king claimed credit.
From then on, wax images of the king’s ring were used to stamp his decrees and sent around the kingdom. All the people who saw the wax stamp on the royal decrees agreed they represented the king. The impressions were very clear. But it was not until centuries later, after videos, recordings, and other evidence could be compiled, that presidents, kings, and other politicians were proven to always tell the truth. At least that’s the impression they want to give.
May 27, 2017

TOMORROW IS THE BEST DAY

Every day is sweeter than the day before,
Every day I love life a little bit more.
Starting with eye raising exercises,
Making my eyes look full of surprises.
Leaping out of bed, (o.k. If I’m honest instead)
I crawl out and sometimes bump my head.
I stumble down the hall, holding on to the wall,
Realize I’m getting shorter than ever, I’m growing small.
Saying, Parkinson’s Disease, you ain’t got me yet!
I mumble a few other words like….oh I forget,
But it’s still a beautiful day, and nothing’s in my way,
There are Tigers (lilies) and Lions (dandelions)
A whole world full of animals, wild, and free,
Living with gusto just like me, don’t you agree?
Sooner or later I might take a swim,
I might wait until the ocean is filled to the brim.
Splash around in water trying not to sink.
Wondering where’s my woman? She’s my missing link.
But I manage to survive another fine day
With God’s abundant love packed around my solitary life,
And just maybe I could have survived a wife.
I remember to count the stars shimmering silver on black,
They remind me there’s nothing I need and nothing I lack.
But just in case I forgot even one little thing,
There’s always tomorrow to add to my list
One more time to kiss or be kissed,
Tonight when I bow down to pray,
I’ll say ,Lord, I’m ready but I need one more day.
P.S.
And Lord, I have three more blogs to write
And three more books, no, not tonight,
I’m writing about you, and I need more time.
There’s a few poems also with a little rhyme.
And I haven’t seen Sri Lanka, Moscow, or Idaho,
Your world is beautiful, you put on a show.
Yes, I’m finished with your world. I’d like to show it.
It’ll slow me down in the ground.
But it’ll take time BECAUSE I’m a poet.

May 24,2017

ZIP

He was a little man
And his friends called him “Zip”.
I thought it was because he was small,
Or because he was constantly dodging cars.
But that wasn’t the case at all.
Wanting to be tall,
He had a peculiar habit of jumping up,
And coming down, almost without touching
the ground.
He bounced like he was on a trampoline,
Suddenly I would see his head,
And then not, then again in a different spot.
I thought maybe he was a zipper, up and down,
But I was wrong again. He was called Zip
because he would zip in and out of a crowd,
Keeping his sense of directions on track.
Once when he he missed his corner
He was too proud to admit he was lost,
And too frugal to pay the cost
Of a cab.
Zip became my friend, and we often talked as we walked,
About topics important to him. He asked,
“Was the world getting smaller or taller?”
He was losing his bounce,
And he worried he had gained an ounce.
“Not to worry,” I said.
“Your heart is getting bigger instead.
You might be small but you are making the world
A better place,
You don’t take up much space,
And you always have a smile on your face.”

I wish more people had a little zip when they walked,
And were happy when they talked.
Zip inspired me.
Now, he’s my best friend,
And I want to be more like him.
He will someday have a place in the sky.
I’ll call him the “Little Zipper.”

April 25, 2017

AVID

I’m an avid reader,
I read all kinds of books,
Non-fiction, fantasy, love stories too,
All deserve attention and second looks.
What will the characters do,
as they march from page to page,
I follow admiringly a step behind,
Gathering ideas from sage to sage.
SciFi, poetry, words eaten as a meal,
I can’t get enough of words,
They give me quite a thrill.
I can’t wait for night to fall,
and read before I sleep,
In my dreams characters come to life,
From book to book they leap.
My friends wait behind the covers,
They’re patient as I unwind.
I am an avid reader,
Because they give me peace of mind.

AS IMPORTANT AS….

As Important as

I think I’m almost as important as the President.
I get noticed by the I.R.S. every year,
Although no one makes fun of me on SNL.
No dignitaries come to visit, (or want to).
I still get to watch sports in person
Without anyone watching me.
Even though I know how to text on my phone,
Everyone leaves me alone.
Most people don’t care if I ignore them
Because my texts, e-mails, etc.
Don’t get snagged by the FBI and whoever.
No one is watching or listening to me.
Why do I think I’m important?
Because I am a common man,
A citizen of one of the greatest countries of the world.
You may disagree with me,
You can do that in this country.
You have rights and privileges,
Whether man or woman, rich or poor.
Together, united we stand.
I salute my countrymen.
You should be proud of who we are. April 17, 2017

COLONOSCOPY

My body is playing tricks again,
and driving me insane.
I’m tired of all the drama,
and tired of all the pain.
My doctor’s appointment is scheduled,
It would be bad if I should miss,
Especially if the doctor shouts,
“Hey everyone! Come and look at this!”
I understand it’s not fun and games
To get a colonoscopy,
It may be a laugh for someone else,
But it’s not much fun for me.
Nothing to eat but an awful drink,
What could be any sadder?
“Oops! It’s time to go,
The drink affects my bladder!”
Doctor, just check me out,
I agree I’m long overdue.
Which way are you going in,
Is it to get a better view?
You’ve done this procedure countless times,
Please be gentle and not rough.
The nurses have already prepped me up,
So, doctor, do your stuff!

April 11, 2017