All the boxes assiduously receive their check
The cards have been accounted as in the deck
And the rungs have been climbed without a skip
While expending great energy to keep a tight grip
For fear of failure, fear of a stumble and fall
As well as exposure of philosopher and poet’s call
To explore and dream in color and hues at night
To experience dreams of free soaring and flight
Then to awake and calmly check the next box
As normal, never acknowledging that missing sock
That may be driving us crazy deep inside
But we are normal, sort of, on the outside
This week I learned that
Despite recording technology
Despite remote control at our fingertips
Despite the mute button so prevalent
Despite narrowed attention spans
Despite a paucity of curiosity
Despite the Super Bowl is two months away
Despite the proximity of the kitchen
Or maybe because of this proximity
People actually watch commercials
At least enough to get riled up
About a thin woman
…. on a $2,000 stationary bike!
Funny
Why am I obsessed with the news?
There is nothing good here and very little new
On the front pages, or with these talking heads
And if I read the feel-good news stories
I sigh, because these puppy stories don’t work for me.
Bring me thoughtful prose and in-depth analysis
Of the human condition, and our vessel’s survival
Despite the human condition, of our universe still
Turning toward and out and about without
Our involvement, or more precisely our interference.
Bring me something that is unique and new
Something that is from the soul
That says we have a history and more importantly
A future!
Is it too much to ask, that we should understand
How this all came about, and what it all means?
Poetry in Healthcare
There is a study that is questioning if poetry would be an aide to patients that are in long-term care and having serious illnesses, including some in palliative care (meaning their pain is being managed, as there is no cure option). The evaluation is considering if the strength, hope, memories enhanced by the connection and intended ambiguity of poetry has value in providing means for greater connection and communication. They are evaluating the prospect of overall improvement in patient/doctor relationship. The study is evaluating the time-cost versus the benefits for the patients as well as opportunity to reduce physician burn-out.
My personal belief is that poetry can create a level of personal reflection and introspection that removes a person, at least for a time, out of the trials of the moment, distancing themselves some from pain, enabling a journey inward in a way that few things can. Similar to formal prayers, which is a form of poetry that seeks to find a spiritual link between our inner-self (soul) and God, poetry could improve the understanding, and insight into our inner-self. Exploring the human experience in poetry brings us closer to inner-self that is the inextricable connection of our physical, emotional, phycological-self, as well as our spiritual-selves. Prior to the majority of the population being able to read, poetry in the form of lyrical prayer or hymns were a means to enable spiritual soul introspection whenever and wherever it was needed. The lyrical nature of prayer makes it easier to take it with you. Today, maybe poetry too will provide both some healing value, as well as improved human connection between physician and patient. Or more broadly between patient and caregivers.
What’s good is bad… what’s bad is good
He cannot remember what was said, but should
Also, for that matter where Colorado is, nor
That Category 5 Hurricanes are a thing
The art of the deal that is never not win-win
But rather benefits only one,
Except it does not do that either in the long-run.
So, let us alter reality to fit the insistence
Of those that are desperate to believe.
As ignorance contrary to some’s definition
Is really knowing truth,
… but still denying its existence
The morning November moon, I love so much, showed itself.
About this time of the year, we are privileged to be smiled upon
By a barely-there moon, as it hangs on to the night, while greeting a new day.
Sunset Artistry
Light scattered red by dust
Glowing orange just for us
As it travels through so many miles
Of atmosphere distortions for smiles
On faces radiant in sunsets glow
As the heavens shine on us below
With colors beyond compare
Brilliant views, we proudly share
As photos or artistic views, if we dare.
If words could only capture the spectacular rays
Of sunburst, bold colors as the end of lovely days
Then poetry would shine as art on us
Colorful as the so many ways that dust
And words deflect light to produce rhymes
Echoing all the sunsets, forever from ancient times
What if there’s nothing left to discover
And we have lost what it means to wonder
If all that we ever knew was what we would know
And there are no questions in our minds to show
What we should think of or strive for just when
It’s time to consider the meaning of life again
Before it slides back into oblivion’s darkness
Because we didn’t credit wisdom’s starkness
When we have become lazy of thought
Having forgotten all we’ve been taught
As we sit facing the cold wind’s tasking
Question… Of my source you could be asking?
She says… what does that word mean
I say, deduce from context, and likely source of the word
She complains, that I use words that need explanation
But then I have high expectation that schools teach
Something about how to think, not just to remember
Of course, the conversation, then begins to meander
Across the dinner table of scraps and scrabble of a meal’s demise
And she now says with a twinkle in those oh so clever eyes
That she’d rather clean the kitchen than talk with me
She hates these conversations she tells me
While knowing this challenge will be rewarded, with kitchen
Duties as well as conversation that moves on to plans
For a future sure to be bright, but she wants to own it herself
Then she says she doesn’t want to play chess with me
I didn’t even ask…
Another challenge that means don’t try that four moves ahead crap
Cause, I’m not playing that game, because I cannot win
When we both know she’ll win just by playing the game
And I feel that through it all
… she’s already four moves ahead of me!
Fall is a disturbance of great importance
We think of spring as renewal and rebirth
The excitement of new year full of hope
But no renewal happens without the glaring
Bareness following the colorful death, and
The clearing of the old from the carpet of earth
The starkness of branches forlornly reaching for the sky
As if beseeching the heavens for relief from exposure
And the nakedness against the winds that strip
The last color of who we pretended to be
As the leaves of October fall to the cold votes of November
As the time of renewal starts with the exposure
Of the old, the exhausted tired messaging
That no longer can hold back these winds of truth
Fiery red and orange fades to a brown death
Making room for something new, and hopefully better!
