Chicken Peckin’

Chicken Pickin’

In the theory of evolution

Humans have not moved far from chickens…

Getting along fine in their flock day by day

Until one sustains an injury drawing blood.

No matter how well they resided before

They all turn on the injured member

Picking and pecking drawing even more blood…

Similar to stoning in the Biblical stories.

Injuries sustained cause a painful death.

Everything goes back to normal

As the next one awaits his fate.

A very bloody habit

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Photo: blogspot.com

Little Friends

These three little boys Kevin, Doug, and Chris had such fun together back in the mid 70s. All born the same year, they were bosom buddies. Every time they got together they had a great time. This photo shows them enjoying their ride in the potato cart. Kevin’s father, Roy, built the tractor and mower combo. It pivoted in the middle and could turn on a dime.

These little rockers enjoyed the music coming out of the ancient Panasonic Stereo record player. Having grown up together they always loved getting together, as you can see. This is definitely poetry in motion!!

Now they are 47 and have children of their own.

Old Photos are so much fun to look at!!

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

 

A Walk in the Park

 

 

It was a gorgeous fall day for a walk in the park. The leaves were beautiful as we made the circle. These are some of the shots I took as we enjoyed the afternoon. Poetry in motion with no words required!

 

 

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

 

Home

Aging has its issues. Downsizing and relocating is often part of the process. Letting go of the things we have emotional attachments to can be very stressful. In time we might discover that the reshuffling of our life has very positive results.  Smaller places mean less work. Retirement communities can provide resources that add to our life.  What happens as we await metamorphosis is up to us. Our attitude and mindset makes a big difference in that outcome.

Awaiting Metamorphosis

We wrap ourselves with strands of life

That tells our story from front to back.

A life of joy and sorrow…

All woven into that cocoon we call home.

 

Layer after layer we weave the strands.

Stories, pleasures, and memories abound

Bringing undefined feelings of love

To our ephemeral life.

 

Family and friends give life its edge.

Children and grandchildren cut deep into our souls

Embedding themselves in the fabric of our cocoon.

 

Cool crisp mornings with coffee and tea.

Birds and flowers and vines of Kiwi.

Unspeakable joy and pleasures surround

In our home cocoon we’ve so tightly wound.

 

Time to let go and break out of our shell.

Who knows what joys and pleasures we’ll tell

In transformation of mind and matter.

 

Though parting is great sorrow

There is still hope for tomorrow

Beyond this cocoon we call home.

Scars

Scars

“Forgive and forget…”

An unforgivable cliché

Scars climb into the coffin with us

Lying there, embedded into our souls

A lasting part of who we have become…

Some visible and obvious…

Others not so much so

Forgiveness does not erase scars

It only allows us to heal and go on

Giving us the strength to live above the pain.

Scars that do not heal bring death

Soul stirring pain so deep and so sharp

That we can bear it no more.

Go lightly on that soul

Who chooses his fate,

Unlike the rest of us who wait

For fate to come knocking .

Fear of making a choice keeps many

Dead while living …

Enduring, waiting, wondering

Bearing the scars alone

Wishing for the end

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Photo: Dwight l. Roth

Twilight

The ocean is one of the least expensive forms of therapy. I found this painting I did a while back. It shows the calming effect that the ocean brings to our life. Hopefully, it will take you to a calming place and time in your life as well.

Twilight

The pregnant ocean swells and flattens

Teaming with life unseen.

Feel its heartbeat

In the twilight rhythm of the waves

Gently rolling in… caressing the shore.

Salt breezes soften the heat of the day

Gulls circle searching for one more bite

Twilight brings a calm serenity,

As the sun kisses the ocean on last time

Palms silhouetted black against the red sky

Sway strong and tall in the evening breeze.

Everyone has gone into the shadows

Following the flaming line of Tikki Torches

Called by the beat of the drums.

Dancers undulate, grass skirts sway

Twilight’s deep shadows

Close into darkness… broken only by flames.

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Painting: Dwight L. Roth

 

History

History

Word of mouth stories

Passed down through centuries

Of human kind

Representing events and actions

Showing how critical choices

Helped or harmed men and women

Of diverse origins and cultures

Recording these events as history

Chosen and written for

Future generations to read

And imagine what actually happened

That was not told or only inferred

Wondering in their minds what

Layers of history were not recorded

Significant portions lost in the dust of time.

We pick and choose the history

Our children and grandchildren

Read and learn from…

The successes and mistakes

Of the past are there to help

Them learn and avoid

Repeating the evils men do.

Sadly few ever learn from the past

History continues to repeat itself

Generation after generation

Calling to mind the haunting question

Pete Seeger so simply asked…

“When will they ever learn

When will they… ever learn…”

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Why Poets Write…

This amazing spider created a web outside my bedroom window. I noticed it today as I was heading around the house to my garden. It stopped me in my tracks and sent me back inside to get my camera. This is what we hope to do as we write poetry. We hope that a line or a thought will make someone stop in their tracks as they read. Only a few people read our poetry, but the hope is that those who do will be inspired and challenged by our words. The spider does not catch all the bugs, but he does catch a few. The few are enough to draw his nourishment and give him strength. This is what poetry does for us as well.

Why Poets Write…

Writing poetry is often like painting….

Not valuable until a century later

Still we write…hoping to connect

With that tweak of imagination

That will light a spark in someone else

We write for the same reason spiders spin

Weaving intricate webs of beauty

Hoping to entangle the imagination

Of one poor soul who might wander in

Creating that one line that will snag them

Stop them in their tracks

Inject them with stunning venom…

That one line that can change a life

Forever

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

 

Utopia

In 1967, when I was in college, a group called the Youngbloods recorded a hit song with the lyrics Let’s Get Together and Love One Another Right Now…  It came out just as the Viet Nam war was ramping up. A call to peace and love, it was a reflection of the flower child generation of the day. I saw on TV that there is a commercial that is using this song as a musical backdrop. The words are wonderful, but as you can see we still have not gotten the message. This poem reflects this same sentiment.  Listen to the song at the end of the poem.

Utopia

Think how great our world would be

If we supported one another more

And left the criticism at home

As we go out the door

 

Think how great our country would be

If we prayed for our president more

Seeking wisdom, guidance, and freedom from war

Where congress works for the people they serve

Instead of special interests making deals on the curb

 

Think how great our world would be

If people of all faiths could finally agree

Where those who believe differently

Embrace one another and agree to disagree

Listening to one another without controversy

 

Think how great our world would be

How much less stress we all would carry

If the networks broadcasted the good people do

Instead of murders killers and political brew

Think how much better the world would be

If following the Golden Rule was our creed

Loving one another with God’s love and forgiveness

Treating our brothers with care and acceptance

 

We all know this is only a dream

Our dangerous world sometimes makes us scream

But it is nice to think about, if only for a moment

A utopian world where Love is prevalent

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

 

Your Dreams

Your Dreams

Carry your dreams as you travel life’s road

With a light and airy smile

Pack as many as you like

Add dreams that last awhile

Choose light ones, just right for you

You can see them in your mind

They can happen, they can come true

But the work is up to you

Work to make them happen

Never leave them in your bag

Keep them always right on top

Don’t let your focus lag

Dreams are not like luggage

That gets lost when you fly

They’re always buried in your bag

They never go away

So as you age and life goes on

Thinking dreams have passed you by

Dig down deep, pick one just for you

It’s not too late to try

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Clip art photo from Pinterest