Category Archives: Poetry

Last Day

19
Posted by on in children, collaborating, Personal goals, Poetry, Striving

May 26, 2016, Prescott-

Standing in line, for a freshly-baked dozen,

I see many ahead, with the same wish.

Treating our charges,

on one last morning of hard work.

Arriving on the scene late in the year,

the farewells of many are muted, fleeting,

but credit is given to those to whom it is due.

A hug for the lady who has done the lion’s share of work,

ends the high school days of many.

My time in this cradle of maturity has resumed.

I will be regular staff,

come August.

How rewarding, to be once again,

the repository of trust.

Hiroshima

8
Posted by on in Historical, Poetry

May 25, 2016, Prescott-

The blue light flashed and took its toll

both within the plane and without,

hearts and minds rolled.

The force of the minute,

brought down the mighty,

and the sky, for a time,

was, alternately, smoky black

and shimmering white.

This was no punishment for Nanking,

Corregidor.

or Bataan.

It was, in fact.to limit even more blood

on the crowded sands.

In two days’ time,

some 71 years later,

a sublime view of peace

will be offered,

by a target of haters.

No apology,

just resolve.

Be the peace

you want to see.

Not Your Call

9
Posted by on in Personal Values, Poetry

May 16, 2016, Prescott- 

(This is in response to people of various ages, who have attempted to harass me, in recent days.)

I am of “mixed race”.

It’s not your call,

whether I work in a particular school.

That I don’t fit your criteria

of Correct Colour,

means nothing.

I am a straight male, who acts his age.

It’s not your call,

whether I work in a particular classroom.

That I don’t like your gay come-ons,

and insults, means nothing-

to me, or to my friends,

whether they themselves are gay or straight.

I am a World Citizen.

It’s not your call,

as to for whom I vote,

who I call friend,

or who I think should be allowed in the United States,

or anywhere else.

Your fear blinds you,

a naturalized citizen.

It does not blind me.

Enemies of mine,

I make and live by my choices.

These are my calls,

supported by my friends,

those of my family who support me,

and my supervisors at work,

who believe in me.

Ghosts

15
Posted by on in Inspiration, Poetry, Social

May 10, 2016, Prescott–

My thoughts go to a place called Xanga.

I’ve been informed that my subscription is over.

The ghost pieces that have built up there,

are to be the stuff of archives.

Bittersweet.

as that was a place I could reach out,

a place where I could learn to accept love from strangers,

a place where I could banter with snarky people,

and a place where I could deal with bullies and trolls.

My imagination ran free,

for the first time in a long while.

Many friendships were made,

many of them still thrive,

in real time.

Some were lost,

in the wake of culture wars,

misunderstandings,

upended relationships.

The wisps of thoughts,

long ago communicated,

as my truest love faded from life,

one hour, one day, one year at a time.

My cyberfriends joined our son,

in holding my hand,

keeping my mind intact,

helping my heart to heal.

As I write,

the cool presence of her spirit,

wafts over my hands,

reassuring.

 

 

Rewards

7
Posted by on in Personal Values, Poetry

May 9, 2016, Prescott-

After twelve years in the trenches,

Man has been given a respite.

His spot in the field may go

To one whose patience is well-tested.

In turn, the sanguine one will be secure.

Until it’s time for him to take a rest.

Love and joy can be the rewards

Of any who, the needs of others, do not ignore.

Timeless

12
Posted by on in Poetry, Social

April 27, 2016, Prescott-

One of my students wrote a mini-movie script, this morning.

The depth of his thoughts spewed forth, without warning.

As with many of his generation, the focus was on geologic change.

Earthquakes, of late, have seemed to increase in range.

He wrote of the Big One, and how it would affect Hoover Dam,

sending cascading water, down the Colorado, and into the Bill Williams.

Our town would bear a bit of overflow, perhaps,

but his first thought was that his sanity might snap.

His rescuers appeared, though, in the personages of all the girls,

who, his adolescent mind has determined, rock his world.

Change is timeless, and so is sameness.

Growing

13
Posted by on in Education, Poetry

April 25, 2016, Chino Valley –

Heading out, for unexpected work,

I determine I’ll not shirk.

The types of math that are on the agenda,

Used to be headaches, never ending.

Time and tide have made them comprehensible,

So my explanations to the people are more dependable.

Self-confidence is thus transferable,

and knowledge, in turn, becomes more durable.

(My long-term post at Prescott High School was closed today,

therefore I went up to Chino Valley, to help there, for the day.)

 

Twelve Days

4
Posted by on in Poetry, Spiritual

April 19, 2016, Prescott-

This evening, we Baha’is began the twelve days of the Ridvan Festival, a time commemorating Baha’u’llah’s announcement of His station and mission, to His family and closest companions.

An honourarium:

Twelve days in the most bountiful garden,

exuding the most divine of fragrances

even as all inhaled the beautiful scents of nature.

Ridvan, in the midst of the Tigris,

 

an island that sent the Lord of the Age

forth to western Asia’s greatest city.

Yet, during these twelve days,

all was about summoning a new race of men.

 

As It Happened

4
Posted by on in Poetry, Social, Striving

April 17, 2016, Prescott- I was in an intense frame of mind, and in a hectic schedule, this weekend.  The needs of my Faith led me down to Phoenix, and a semi-cloistered 1 1/2 days’ consult with my fellows.

I look back on all my experiences of this past forty-eight hours, and see:

A tall, intelligent, comely woman walking past,

Offering a slight smile,

The briefest of acknowledgements.

Come to find out,

There was an early morning spat.

A young woman,

friend since the age of nine,

walking about with upturned nose,

selectively greeting the chosen few.

Come to find out,

father’s taken off,

for parts unknown.

Sullen man glares at passers-by,

not asking for anything,

but huddled tightly with himself,

on a corner bench.

Come to find out,

he’s been drifting,

since President Bush the Younger

said “Mission accomplished”,

when sullen man’s mission had just started.

There is pain, even on a bright day like today.

There is joy, even on a hard day, like a couple of Thursdays ago.

Meme Chose

8
Posted by on in Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Poetry

April 13, 2016, Prescott- 

(The title is in French, and is pronounced ” mem shoze”, meaning “same thing”.  It has nothing to do with Internet memes.)

Walking down the street,

As we all anticipate the return of heat,

I sense a bit of apprehension,

from those behind me,

as approaching young men

draw our attention.

I’ve lived a good life,

so I feel no worry.

They are just people,

so no need to scurry.

It’s said to be good to confront

our prejudices.

Giving them voice,

one’s tolerance actually

nourishes.