Rust

Rust

Rust the shedding of superficial cover-ups

Cracking our image in the cauldron of time

Peeling away layers we thought were no more

Revealing vulnerabilities close-up

Weak spots in our picture-perfect shell of reality

Letting the cares of life chip away at our core

Ulcers of paranoid acid eating away at our soul

Possessing our mind convincing us of our mortality

Layer by layer continuing to peel back more

If left unattended will it becomes our horror

From specters of the past already put to rest

But if addressed can be restored

Healing renewal for the future once more

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

 

 

 

Fake Artificial Intelligence

        Fake Artificial Intellegence

As we stare hypnotized at LED screens

We somehow have convinced ourselves

That we hold truth in our digital hands

Reality somehow resides in this artificial screen

Artificial intelligence is only as smart

As those who feed the info into the grinder

As we are bombarded by AI all around us

We begin to drink the cool-aide one sip at a time

Never thinking only seeking the next feeling fix

Sucked into emotions that feed our perspective

Sound bites and pictures sculpted and scripted

Take us where we are willingly led

No logic or common sense in our sensational addiction

No question of moral or ethical consequences

As we bow down to our media gods of Limbaugh and Maddow

We sink deeper and deeper into the stupor of fake AI

Whatever happened to “Question Everything!”

Whatever happened to “Think for Yourself!”

Will future Artificial Intelligence be as fake

As the media we feed on today

Will thinking without emotion be the step

Leading us back to common sense

Or will AI feed us fake information

Controlling us like the children of Jonestown

Sacrificing our intelligence for one we created

Bowing down to the “truth”

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Bing Photo  –  hardnoxandfriends.com

 

Give Me Wrinkles

I am always amazed at celebrities who are as old as I am, yet have faces of a forty-year-old. It looks smooth, but does not match their age. I have always been one to go for the natural look. Make-up, to me, seems to only cover ups natural beauty. Some have so much cosmetic work done that when they die, they won’t need to be embalmed. They will be perfect just the way they are!

Give me wrinkles!

Don’t embalm me before my time

Filling my skin with foreign fluids

Pumping up my crow’s feet

Smoothing out my forehead lines

Porcelain skin looks lovely on the young

Yet they cover it with paint and shade

Thinking the artificial somehow looks better

Hiding their natural beauty

Don’t embalm me before my time

Pumping me full of water balloons of silicone

Painful stretching to achieve cleavage

Bringing side effects and risks to health

Just to attain that statuesque look

Don’t embalm me before my time

Let me keep my wrinkles and my lines

Aging with rings like an old oak tree

Scars of battles long past

Showing character and strength

In the body given me

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

When I am Loved

Being alone and at the mercy of others must be a very difficult thing. As we were leaving the crafts fair, last weekend, I saw this old man all alone in the doorway down the street. He was playing on a chord organ and had a jar out to collect money from listeners. I sent my grandson over to put something in his jar as we passed by. The thing that caught my eye was his loyal dog lying at his feet as he played his music. I thought how comforting it must be for him to have that connection.

When I am Loved

As long as there is one who loves me

All else becomes secondary

Work struggle pain or poverty

Become tolerable when I am loved

No matter how old I get

Or how I am perceived

I am rich

A dedicated friend who loves me

Is worth more than gold

There is one who loves unconditionally

Attached at the heart by soulful bonds

Would lay down his life for me

A true friend to the end

This is Man’s Best Friend

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

 

Here’s Your Sign

In Historic Staunton, Virginia last weekend, I enjoyed seeing all the unique shop signs hanging above the sidewalk. As we enjoyed the craft fair booths and the people we met, I began shooting some of the signs overhead. I loved the variety of names and the poetic feel to each one! Here are a few that I liked.

 

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

 

 

Can You Hear the Termites Chewing?

Can You Hear the Termites Chewing

Can you hear the termites chewing

Most people can’t become that still

Few take time to sit or listen

Perhaps only a blind man could

With sharpened acuity and sensitive ears

Hear those tiny critters in the wood

Take a walk in the woods

Sit down on a rotten log and listen

Block out all else but the lumber jacks

Working in dark coal mines of wood

Chewing chewing chewing at this unending log

If you concentrate block out the noise around

And the symphony of creatures auditioning for a spot

Parking their flute or drum in your brain

For your future reference

If you block out everything else to true silence

Perhaps then you can hear the termites chewing

Beneath your seat on the decaying log

As for me it will never happen

Age and excess decibels have taken their toll

The constant ringing that never stops

Covers all the minute sounds silence might bring

Like termites chewing inside a log

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Photo: Ruth A. Roth

Resilience

The photos in this post reveal that survival is dependent on resilience and strength. The desire to survive against all odds, to grow and thrive, to challenge the odds makes both nature and humans unique. Without resilience we would simply whither and die. But with an attitude of resilience we can accomplish great things in life.

Between a rock and a hard place!

Develop Deep Roots!

Cover Past Hurts and Move On!

Don’t Allow Handicaps Hold You Back!

Take Life One Step at a Time!

Celebrate Every Small Achievement!

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Mountain Poetry

We took the scenic route part of the way back from Virginia to North Carolina today. We drove about a hundred miles down the Blue Ride Parkway from Waynesboro to Roanoke. It was wonderful to see the spring foliage at the different elevations. Here are a few photos to enjoy, all poetry in their own right. I will post more at a later date.

A Tribute to Mom

One of the things that struck me most, as I read through her diaries after she passed in 2007, is how many times she writes, “I am so tired!”  Back in the 40’s and 50’s there were no air conditioners. Clothes were washed in a ringer washer and hung on a clothes line to dry. Mom always washed clothes on Monday. I can still smell the aroma of Tide and see the clothes squeezing through the ringer into the rinse tubs. When dry, she and my sister Priscilla sprinkled them and ironed them on an ironing board in the kitchen. It was hard work and I am sure Mom was very tired every night when her head hit the pillow!

Thanks Mom, for all your hard work and loving care!

Wash Line Memories

Lines strung across the yard to the apple tree

Electric pole and butternut make three

Held up in the middle with a big long prop

Just a long skinny pole with a nail in the top

Morning dew quickly takes leave

Clothes carried from the basement in a basket of weave

Wooden clothes pins in a bulging bag

Some have heads others squeeze to hold the rags

Shirts and underwear flap pretty as you please

Jeans and sheets hang carefree in the breeze

Neighbors next door see everything you wear

Back then it didn’t matter we didn’t give a care

Towels loose moisture but not their good smell

When you wash with Tide you know all is well

The best part of all are those windblown sheets

Crawling in bed getting tucked in and ready to sleep

There’s no better bed in the entire world

Than one just made with windblown sheets

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Photo:  Mom Pulling me in the Wagon 1948

 

 

The Cry of Haiti

 

The resilient Human Spirit is very amazing even in the worst of circumstances.  Most of your remember back in 2010 when Haiti was hit by a major 7.0 earthquake. It was a very unsettling situation for whole country, since many of their buildings were substandard and collapsed as a result. The photos of people living in fear and devastation was very heartbreaking. Almost 200,000 people lost their lives. Many people and agencies reached out to help, but much more is needed. I wrote this song for them as I tried to picture myself in their situation. The refrains are a repetitive reflection of the human spirit. I thought you might get a feel of the emotion involved in this tragedy. I don’t have written music, only guitar chords and a recording.

The Cry of Haiti

Though the Earth may shake us

And walls come tumbling down

We’re brothers and sisters in our pain

We’re brothers and sisters in our pain

Together we will rise to face another day

To become more than we are now

To become more than we are now

*

Though death surrounds us

And tears flow from our eyes

We’re brothers and sisters in our pain

We’re brothers and sisters in our pain

Together we will rise to face another day

To become more than we are now

To become more than we are now

*

Our stomachs are empty and sky over our heads

We’re brothers and sisters in our pain

We’re brothers and sisters in our pain

Together we will rise to face another day

To become more than we are now

To become more than we are now

*

With children dying broken in the streets

Our hearts cry out in agony

Our hearts cry out in agony

We’re brothers and sisters in our pain

We’re brothers and sisters in our pain

But together we will rise to face another day

To become more than we are now

To become more than we are now

*

Where are you God in all this agony

How will you heal my broken soul

How will you heal my broken soul

We’re brothers and sisters in our pain

We’re brothers and sisters in our pain

Together we will rise to face another day

To become more than we are now

To become more than we are now

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Words and Music (c) Dwight L. Roth

Bing Photo: http://articles.architectjaved.com/earthquake_resistant_structures/tag/base-isolation/