The Silent Voice

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In the recesses of the mind
Where reason and conscience lie…
Right alongside the knowledge of good and evil
There comes a sound // not in words
But a silent voice speaking to me
Not with scream nor shout

But with a still small (silent) voice
Heard above the noise of loud voices
Clamoring for my attention
Heard above the noise of city streets
Roaring trucks and honking taxies

Above social media smart phones
Spewing out trivial pursuits
The silent voice always there.

The other option…
Some call it mystical
Others hear nothing
But I hear the silent voice of God
Speaking into my soul…

The voice that says, “I love you my child.”
“No matter what you might do,
I love you!”
“Be all you can be!”

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

I am the guest host for Tuesday poetics at d’Verse~Poets Pub. The prompt for the day is the Sounds of Silence. We are to write a poem describing any aspect of the Sounds of Silence.

Join us at d’Verse. The bar opens Tuesday at 3:00 PM.  https://dversepoets.com

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Wandering/Wondering

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The transition from living on your own to living in an Alzheimer’s  care facility is a real paradigm shift. My father in law struggled greatly with the confusion of loss and change. When his wife was diagnosed with a brain tumor and had to be placed in a care facility, it took longer for him to be placed. We took turns staying with him during that time. Not having his wife there with him and his onset of confusion created a lot of anxious moments for him. This is one example that occurred while I was sleeping in the living room.

Wandering/Wondering

“Oh, it’s you,” he said with a puzzled look

“I did not know you were here!”

This was the third time that night

“I just came out to make sure the door was locked.”

“When did you get here? ”

“We’ve been here for a week!”

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Mish asked us to write a Quadrille of only 44 words and use the word Puzzle as our prompt. Come join us at d’Verse~Poets Pub.

https://dversepoets.com

Lost

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What happens when things grow foggy and you no longer know who you are? A few years ago we were in Wal-Mart when I noticed a man who seemed lost and confused. Not only that, but he was obviously not in control of himself. He kept wandering back and forth through the lines. It was so very sad to see this man who was so out of touch with reality. This is my account of that incident.

Losing Touch …The Point of No Return

He was wondering across the checkout lanes
At the local Super Walmart
With a look of concern on his face
As he looked across the carts

He was unaware of his condition.
His pants were soaked and soiled
His only concern was to find his wife…
And surely she would come through soon

As I watched him move from lane to lane
My heart went out to this man
Who seemed not to know the state he was in
But had only one plan

I asked him if I could be of help
He said he didn’t think so
She would be coming through very soon.
And he wandered on down the row

I went to find a manager
Who could help him find his wife
But when we returned he had vanished
He was nowhere in sight

I still think about the old man not much older than myself
And wonder if he found her
And what it must be like
Not to know who you are

I cried many tears as I recalled
The empty look, the lack of concern
Unaware of the condition he was in
And for the mind that had grown dim

I wonder if I too will reach
That point of no return
The place where my only concern will be
Just to find the one I love

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Standing Alone

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Night Light
Towering above dunes gnawed by ocean waves
Stands a monument of engineering
Seeking some souls to save
A beacon of light to prowling ships in the night
Specters of the sea
Those who listen… who shake with fright
Will live to see dry land tonight
Light piercing darkness guides a ship all alone
Flashing danger ore a graveyard
Of lost ship’s bones
A brick and mortar giant of clay
Calls excited children to come and play
Or climb the winding backbone of steel
And dream of one day steering a ship’s wheel
And every night the mirror shines
Reflecting the light within
Through hurricanes, lightning, wind, and rain
Into the black of night again
Children and parents have all gone home
The dark waves pound the shore
Standing strong it’s all alone
Knowing some ships sail no more
Rain and hail beat the window panes
But the light of life never wains
Ships toss on the rolling foam
The colossal stands alone

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Photo of the Boddie Lighthouse near Nags Head, NC

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Reposted on d’verse for open link night.  Come join us at d’verse~Poets Pub.

https://dversepoets.com

 

Second Year Mutations

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Gregor Mendel was a pioneer in studying genetics in peas. It is amazing how far the study of genetics has come. You can send off and order a DNA test that will tell you your origins and also, people who have the same DNA who might be your long lost relative. But, the genetic changes that take place in people and flowers has never changed. When two flowers come together through pollination, the genetics and DNA are mixed and altered. Sometimes odd mutations occur. I love exploring the genetic changes in flowers by saving the seeds and replanting them the next year. The mix of genes in these zinnias from last year are evident in the new flowers produced this year. Most are still the same, but these few come through missing some petals and parts.  I will save the seeds from them and see what comes out next summer. Enjoy my odd flowers.

Zinnias full bloom

Summer sun accents beauty

Mutant genes revealed

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Hope you enjoyed my little botany lesson!

Fragile Flower

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This morning I saw my small Hibiscus was blooming, following last evening’s shower. This afternoon our d’Verse challenge was to write a poem incorporating the hidden meaning of a flower of our choice. Naturally I had to use this beautiful image for my poem.

There are several meanings to Hibiscus. One is gentleness and fragility. In Hawaii it is used to give several different meanings. It is woven in leis to welcome visitors to the islands. When a young woman wears a flower in her hair on the left it means she is single and available. If on the right it shows she is spoken for and in a relationship. You can guess what it means if she has one on both sides!

When you came to me
A hibiscus in your hair
Soft and fragile
Left accent calling me to you
What could I do
But be captivated by your smile

Throughout the years
Your fragile beauty remains
Sharing family
Grandchildren
And so much more
Now the hibiscus on your right
Reflects the love we share

The day is drawing to a close
You my sweet hibiscus
Are as beautiful as ever
Wilted edges change nothing
You // my fragile // gentle flower
Will live on forever

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Join us at d’Verse: https://dversepoets.com

Mom’s Kitchen

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At my house growing up, the kitchen was the center of daily activity. It was barely big enough to house a stove, a fridge, a cabinet, and a table.  The kitchen was a hum with my mom cooking, canning, or baking. I loved licking chocolate off the spatula and beaters after she mixed up a cake.

In the winter, it became the laundromat, where underwear hung on a wooden rack. like spokes on a wheel. My mom and sister sprinkled clothes from the basement and placed them rolled up into the wicker basket to be ironed. The ironing board was set up in the hallway between rooms with steam hissing all morning long as they pressed the shirts, slacks, and dresses.

Off to the side was the pantry with a large porcelain sink and a tall set of cupboards for storing dry goods. I can still see my father cleaning chickens from our pen in that sink.  It was a grand time to be alive.

Sleet strikes window panes

Winter clothes pressed and hanging

Pressure cooker sings

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Photo from the family album

Today on d’Verse, Lillian asked us to write a haibun following the strictly traditional Japanese rules. It includes a short prose reading followed by a haiku that eludes to something seasonal.  She asked us to go back in our memory to the house we grew up in and pick a room to write about. I chose our family kitchen.

Come join us at: https://dversepoets.com

 

Speculation

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My wife accused me of repeating myself every time I watch a news broadcast.  I keep hearing them talk over and over again about “what they don’t know.” To me this means they are making it up as they go along. In the age of 24 Hour News and TV Tabloids, a  lot is left for speculation and truth. This poem expresses my feelings about the Fake News of the day. See what you think!?

When the news anchor begins with…

“What we don’t know is…”

I know we are in trouble

Made up stories of speculative imagination

Conjured up // supporting a biased point of view

Not based on facts or real evidence

But rather…On “What we don’t know is…”

 

It is not hard to see why many tune out…

When news of the day is simply “educated gossip.”

Why not just stick to the facts of the day

Let the listener do the speculation and deduction

 

News used to be about what happened

Now it is about, “How do you feel about what happened”

With demands for admission of guilt…

Tried by the media in the court of public opinion

Followed by firings….

Followed by apologies…   Some accepted and some denied.

 

Is the world worse than it used to be?

Perhaps, but I believe it appears that way

Because now we see everything that goes on

Often in real time captured on smart phones

Instead of seeing our junk that happens

We see everyone else’s bad news

Exponential crime and debauchery day after day

Is it no wonder that such negative attitudes prevail?

Good new is often relegated to the last 60seconds of the newscast

Sort of like getting a lollipop at the dentist

After he has done a root canal on you

 

If you still listen to the news, ask yourself…

Am I hearing the facts or “What they don’t know?”

When “What we don’t know is…” becomes the truth of the day

We are all in trouble … it really is fake news!!

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News Logos: Bing images