Moon with a Moon

~When Climate Change won’t matter…

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When the earth hiccups and burps

Covering green with light gray

Will the Earth become

all crusty, powdery and dusty…

a Moon with a Moon?


 Painting changed to Black and White:  Dwight L. Roth



Check-out Time

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Static hisses in the brain as we struggle

to overcome the feeling of helplessness

spinning in a vortex of anxious thoughts.

Isolation seems needed to wipe it away

Cheerleaders tell you to cheer up

sharing thoughtless advice making it worse.

Only solution… self-destruct!

Today at d’Verse, Mish asked us to use the word static as our Quadrille prompt. I grew up in an age of radio static on AM stations too weak to hear. We loved playing with static on balloons as we rubbed them on our sweaters and stuck them on the wall. I can still feel the static shock from the doorknob after walking across nylon carpeting.

My poem today reflects the static we hear in our heads. As many of you know Naomi Judd from the country music duo, The Judds, passed away yesterday due to her struggle with ongoing mental illness. If you have ever struggled with depression, you know there are no easy solutions. Many cannot stand the ongoing static in their heads and decide to check out early. If you are struggling, reach out for help rather than thinking life is hopeless and there is no solution. Life is too precious to lose.

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Collateral Damage

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Collateral Damage

What happens to all those lives lost in war

Those blown to smithereens or shot and left

What happens to those back home who wonder

or to refugees leaving all behind who wander

What happens to the bodies found on the streets

and the nameless buried in mass unmarked graves

What will become of those who survive

battle after battle on the home front, never knowing

if this day or tomorrow or some future moment

will be their time to depart

And then, there are the children who will never be the same

Robbed of their childhood, scared for life

after seeing mortars and bombs blow up their homes

they huddle against their mothers hoping their train

will make it to the boarder, wondering if they will

ever see their fathers… there brothers… their neighbors

again following this living hell they are going through

The collateral damage of war goes on for generations

Some will choose to exit early while others will wake up

terrified, screaming from the nightmare of memories

attempting to make sense of it all in their dreams

Yet, generation after generation we continue to refuse

to turn swords into plowshares and live at peace


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Job’s Cry for Ukraine

Our Cry to God

Where are you God when we need you the most

as bombs explode and buildings crumble

Where are you as little men who desire power

send other men to the slaughter in their place

And where are you as mother’s weep

for their husbands… their sons… and their children

Where were you when refugees fled their homes

for destinations unknown and unforeseen just weeks ago

Where were you as bullets fly and old men are murdered

left shot, lying in the street like human refuse

Where are you as women were raped and children cry

from a lifetime of the despicable happening overnight

Where are you God as the Nations rage

seemingly out of control

God’s Response

I Am… not the chess-master controlling the board

As pawns are discarded and Queens attempt to capture kings

The affairs of men go on as they have since the beginning

Nation against nation and Kingdom against kingdom

Some think I Am a genie in the bottle

that when correct prayers are given, rubbed the right way,

will bring the three wishes of fantasy and dreams

My kingdom is not one of the physical realms

But of the spiritual, not of this world but of the eternal

I Am the God who gives you strength from within

Power of unequal measure coming up from the depths

When faced with crisis, or the enemy, or the forces of evil

I Am the God who reveals himself through the human spirit

bringing comfort to the grieving and strength to the dying

I Am the God who removes physical blinders revealing

chariots of fire moving you forward to face whatever lies ahead

I Am the Lion roaring through you to confront evil in the world

Those who look to me will find renewed strength

And like the Phoenix rising from the ashes, you too will rise

I AM the God of peace…      which will come in time

as Love is shown and Grace, Mercy, and Forgiveness

are extended to all


This is not intended to be a theological study although it is inspired from the Biblical account of Job questioning of God as he lay suffering in sack cloth and ashes. This is simply a poetic rendering of questions we might be asking ourselves, as we watch the death and destruction in Ukraine, and how I imagine God might answer.

Paintings of Sunflowers: Dwight L. Roth

Sharing this on d’Verse Poets Pub open link night… Join us at:


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There was a time when things held value, were retained and cherished. As I think of our fast-paced digital world, I wonder what is gained and what is lost.

Once we had hymnbooks that contained a collection of cherished meaningful songs to be sung over and over. Now we continually crank out new songs, flashed up on a screen, before we have learned to appreciate the current ones.

Being a blogger is stimulating and interesting, but the volume of material that flows through the blog leaves me only minutes or seconds to contemplate it before moving on to the next new thing. Will what we write today have any meaning for tomorrow like poets and writers of the past?

The music industry lives for the bottom line and rides success like and eight-minute rodeo ride. Creativity is often put aside for the next successful million selling song, just like the one before.

So again, I ask, what have we gained in our lightning fast virtual, digital world? What do you value and hold dear? What do you put on your virtual shelf to read or listen to over and over? Is anything held in your hands and cherished anymore? Does anything move you or stir your soul? Or are you numb with overload!

Give me a second.”

Hold new meaning in our world

No time for thinking


Painting of some of my favorite things: Dwight L. Roth

Sand… or Gold?

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Truth will set you free…

Sales-pitches creates blinders

Like panning for gold

One must wash away the sand

To find small nuggets of Truth


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Lillian gave us several proverbs and adages to choose from to write a poem. I chose “The truth will set you free… from John 8:32.

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Ode to the Thesaurus

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What good is the clamour of words thrown out to impress
or the bellow of the clanging gong or tinkling symbol
sounding out of tune with the orchestra’s flow?
Some may think me elementary or naive
to avoid these honeyed poetics, thinking these embellishments
make one sound like a tempestuous wordsmith pounding out
words hot off the anvil of a thesaurus, full of absurdities.
No, for me I prefer the simple words of the common man
to the dribble of gibberish filling up empty lines yet saying nothing.
Give me words with tonal resonance that embellish the soul
Raising my spirit or challenging my thoughts, elevating me
to a level of poetic ecstasy… without abstract distraction.


Laura at d’Verse, shared that Tuesday was National Thesaurus Day. Many writers and poets love to use it to embellish their work! She asked us to:

Write a SOUND POEM which includes AT LEAST ONE from EACH of the FIVE HEARING CATEGORY SELECTIONS below: (reference the hearing words you chose in your post).

  • bellow; clink; drone; jingle; quiver;
  • clamour; dissonant; rip-roaring; tempestuous; vociferous;
  • dulcet: honeyed; poetic; sonorous; tonal;
  • blabber; cackle; dribble; gurgle; seethe;
  • beseech; chant; drawl; embellish; intone

As you can see from my poem, I am not a big fan of the Thesaurus, so I wrote this tongue in cheek Ode to make my point.  I get bogged down in words that are more for show than for content. It distracts from both reading and thought for me. This may help to explain my simple form or writing.

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The Atrocities of Being Right


On this anniversary of the violent attack on the US capital, I thought perhaps this poem is a good one to reflect on as we think about the motivation behind it all. It a time when the country is divided politically and philosophically, it all boils down to who is right!  When one is convinced, he/she is right anything can and will happen. We never seem to learn from history. Religion and Politics have both lost their way time and time again.

This poem is written from a semi-theological point of view but crosses over into all aspects of being right. 

The Atrocities of Being Right

Who decides what is right or wrong?

This question is decided before we’re born

So, who is really right and who is all wrong?

Really depends on where you’re born

In India, in Iran, in China or Japan

Truth there is dealt a different hand


So sad the atrocities that have been done

Killing and maiming and burning the one

Who might disagree with our chosen one


How many buildings must we burn

Or suicide bombers take their turn

Is life not important?

Have we no regard?

As long as we’re right killing is not hard

All is done in the name of our cause

Blessings on us and curses abroad


What atrocities we’ve exacted

On the brotherhood of man

Torture, stoning, and fire, is our plan

With bombs and guns and deadly airplanes


All because “WE” have the “truth”


We forget that in the heart of every man

Love crosses every span

Love can bridge the gulf of war

Of bombs, of hate and so much more

Ironic that in every Book

Loving your neighbor is what it took


To change the world, it takes God’s love

Overcoming hate comes from above

Stop the atrocities // demanding our rights

The truth of God’s Love is what brings Light


Race, Religion, Politics, and Creed

Will one day disappear

Only God’s love will still be there

So believe what you choose, and be happy in it

But don’t demand that all must fit in it

Your perception of right or wrong

Will one day soon be gone

Only Love remains!

I Corinthians 13


Dwight L. Roth 12-2014

Painting; Dwight L. Roth

Sharing for open link night at d’Verse Poets Pub.

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Life’s Potholes


Today I patched potholes in the street

Filling cracks // stretchmarks growing wider

Black sticky tar // thick as nutty pudding

Seals the holes and slows deterioration


Our life is like road paved and sweet

We live like it will last forever

But pavement cracks and potholes widen

from our activities and endless recreation


Some seek to just pave over // making everything neat

Without fixing personal issues they hide her

When troubles come from their past that’s hidden

Life’s pavement crumbles from disillusion


So, keep life’s road protected from the heat

And from foul and nasty weather

Avoid division // help relationships widen

Address life’s potholes // sealed with occlusion


Sanaa at d’Verse, challenged us to write from French poetic history.

“Today we will delve deep into the French poetic form “Rima Dissolutas.” Popular with 12th and 13th century French poets, rimas dissolutas is a poem that rhymes and doesn’t rhyme.

For instance, each stanza contains no end rhymes, but each line in each stanza rhymes with the corresponding line in the next stanza–sometimes employing an envoi at the end.”

I had to wait a day to get this one to work for me. Today my friend Peter helped me patch some potholes in our neighborhood. A few neighbors donated to the cause, and we purchased and used 7 bags of asphalt mix in the holes and cracks. This gave me the inspiration for today’s poem. I hope I have the form correct.

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth