Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Parent Poems

These are poems several friends and I wrote this morning when we all should have been doing other things. Amused us perhaps they will amuse you.

Daughter Song
oh how sweet is the melodious
sound of my daughter's voice
rising from the basement
in the refined timber of a whine

Kaza Fraley

my son was beating my duaghter
over the head with his toy screwdriver
Chris Lyons

plastic screwdriver
pounding katie's head with rage
Micah in Time Out

Chris Lyons

Some haikus make sense
Others however do not
Mike Fraley

No I Can't
No I can't do it
no magic wand have I to
create a potty
::applauds mike::
Chris Lyons

is that the right way to ask?

Chris Lyons

For Mike
I scream
I scream
I scream
I want
I scream
I don't get what I want
Perhaps the same action will create a different result this time
I scream
Kaza Fraley

curtain on the floor
nobody knows why its there
i guess it fell, dad

Chris Lyons

Sing song rhymes
The Cat Returns
Strawberry Shortcake
Finding Nemo
Opiates for preschoolers
They sit they stare
They are not in your hair
Kaza Fraley

Thursday, July 23, 2009

The Unstoried Man

I have a strange affinity to those that get the short end of the stick in the Bible. I feel bad for poor Thomas who does something completely reasonable he doubts it when his friends tell them that they have seen their dead friend alive. He has a little trouble believing that a dead person is alive and I have to say in his position I would have done the same thing. Dead people are by definition not alive. So he doubts the sanity of his friends and their wonderful fish tail of walking talking, breathing, eating, dead Savior, once he sees Jesus with his own eyes he makes a profound statement of belief, not to mention recognizing Jesus for who he really and truly is, that is God incarnate when he falls at Jesus' feet saying, "My Lord and my God." Also Church history tells us he was an amazing missionary to India bringing the truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ to there.

The Bible character whom I feel for today has an amazing set of names and not much else to his story. Joseph, aka Barsabbus, aka Justus. Here is what we know of "poor" Joe. He was with Jesus and the disciples from the time when John was baptizing until the day when Jesus was taken up from them. He was also a witness to the resurrection, I take that to mean he was with the disciples when Jesus appeared to them. He was one of the two people whose names were put forth to replace Judas among the 12 apostles. The lot did not fall to him. He was the one not chosen. He was the one left standing when everyone congratulated Matthias for being elected to be counted among the 12.

That is all we know of him. Christian tradition says he later became a bishop but little is known about him and his work. So we are left with Joe the man who was not chosen. Joe the man on whom the lot did not fall. Joe the one who was not an apostle. As I search the Internet for a pictorial depiction of this man there seem to be none. He is always a foot note under a picture of Matthias. Matthias is the one they chose and oh yeah there was this other guy, he was kind of cool, he has three names

I think when I get to "heaven" I will pull up a seat and let Joe tell me his story, since after all he has got be be better than the one recorded in the Bible.
Perhaps someday, I will be inspired to write his story for him and others like him. Kaza's supplement to the Bible where I give all these stories to all the storyless characters who show up as one liners in the Bible.

I will put it on my list of things I will write about when I become a writer.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Just a little amature poetry

I passed into another universe
I do not know when
I passed into another universe
I do not know how I got in
The sky is forever purple
All the people are green
Their breath is blue
And all their songs are too
I wonder and wander, I don't know where I have been
I watch them go by
I don't see me, they do not greet me
But yet I feel they and look and say, "Hi" with a turn of an eye
I like here.
I don't want to go home.
And I don't know why
Without word am known
I feel I know them
We get along
they are my friends
The sun sets and I close my eyes
Whisper, "goodbye"
When I wake will I be in this world or mine?

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

The Wonder of a rainy day

We have had a fair few of rainy days here in New England.
A rainy day usually makes me think of green and growing,
Of fresh flowers glissening with life giving water,
The moist warmth which follows on a summer day.
But this Summer in New England rain is bringing rot and death.
Mike and the girls ventured through the rain to the local vegetable farm
The veggies are dieing.
Too much of a wonderful thing is horrible, is deadly.
Reminds me of a lady Mike knew in Kansas who "got drunk" off of water.
She drank so much water she flooded her system and the end result was something a kin to being drunk, funny thing is she did this on a hike through a desert.
She needed water.
Her body needed a lot of water.
She gave it too much water and it nearly killed her. (aside from the "drunk" effect)
Too much water is killing the melons and zucchini I helped weed.
Too much water is rotting the roots of the tomatoes I helped tie up.
Too much is never a good thing.
Although it seems to me we are good at too much.
When I lived in Mulvane I shopped at the tiny little grocery store in town.
I rarely needed anything which it did not provide.
Here I shop at two different grocery stores, a farmer's market and the veggie farm.
The first week I was here I spent five minutes trying to decide which jar of pasta sauce I would buy.
I only needed one jar, but I had 20 or so to choose from.
Too many choices.
Sometimes it seems we are good at having too much.
Too much water can kill you;
As will too much meat or too much cake.
All of which are good in certain amounts.
I have to say as I was packing and unpacking my house I began to wonder if we (our family) suffer from a horrible case of too much stuff.
I wonder what in our lives we have too much of.
I wonder if any of those things will eventually rot our roots, or bring decay and destruction in our lives?
Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but if we continue to allow too much of * whatever * to be in our lives will we perish, just as the poor veggies are perishing because of too much rain.