Gargantuan Words

Daniel T Stowe Gardens #9 2018 (2)

I never understood the obsession with big words

calling it logolespy instead of just being a word freak.

Is bigger always better … more impressive?

Only in Texas, I believe.

To me it is just a lot of excited burbles

a gibberish of sorts much like a baby might speak

when playing with blocks on the floor.

I like laconic words… short and sweet…

chosen words that mean something to the reader.

Writing poetry is ikigai the reason for being

that can only be understood when speaking plainly.

Scintilla that sparks of inspiration takes us

down the yellow-brick road looking for the great OZ,

thinking his name should be twenty syllables long…

instead of just one.

No, gargantuan words don’t impress me much.

So… you know something none of the rest of us know

There has got to be a word for that…

Oh yes, that would be eniteo!

“I am distinguished most eminent … look at me shine!”

I say strikhedonia … it is all hog wash!

Simple words are susurrus to the soul…

light as a soft gently breeze.

The expression of belle-ame … my beautiful soul.


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Mish shared some of the new words she has come across on social media. She gave us a long list of them with their definitions and asked us to write a poem using at least three or more of these new words in our poem. I am not a fan of using words that are meaningless to the reader in my poems, and almost skipped this prompt. But then I thought, why not illustrate what I dislike about them in a poem. This is what came out!

For the words and definitions, we were given, join us at:

Only One Ticket to Ride

Like the Petals of a Rose (2)

Aging brings so much angst…

Knowing it would happen is no help

as the petals of life begin to fade.

I count… she loves me she loves me not

as our expectations rise and fall

like a Carrowinds coaster

with its ups and downs and loop-t-loops.

Knowing the ride is about over is no help.

Coasting into the exit I exhale

trying to maintain meaning and purpose

knowing I only get one ride.

As friends slowly exit ahead of me

I mourn their passing and grieve my losses.

Aging makes me question my existence,

my future, my truth, and my purpose.

Reality is harsh as challenges increase

Loneliness sets in as other coasters roll on by

filled with excitement and wonder.

I cheer them on with a sad heart…

Knowing they too will someday be here.

While the ride was exhilarating

it seems all too short.

Sadly, I only get one ticket to ride.


Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Reflections on Turning 75

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A great day to be alive, celebrating with Cherry Cheesecake (Cherry Delight)

I turned 75 today and the world continues to change

Some things remain constant it seems

Like war and oppression, racism and hatred

While compassion, love, forgiveness and grace

are still alive and well among us.

I am a Baby Boomer from the late 40s

When I started school things were simple

Pencils and tablets, (paper not digital)

with a Dick and Jane reader and an outhouse out back

Cursive writing was done in pen and ink

Pens with a split point and inkwells to dip in

By the time I reached High School

the space race was on and so was Viet Nam

Trying to keep ahead of the Soviets

we forged ahead

Sputnik and a man in orbit

Ours was John Glenn in a Mercury Capsule

followed by Saturn V rockets and trips to the moon

Transistor radios and handheld calculators

By college it was Folk Music and Civil Rights

Simon and Garfunkle and Joan Baez

My first teaching classroom had slate chalkboards

and pipes in the stairwells wrapped with asbestos

Cassette tapes were on the way out and digital discs were in

Leaded gas was a no and Unleaded took its place

as front-wheel-drive cars became the rage

Heart transplants and bypass surgery saved many

as laser surgery become commonplace

Our first computer was a used Apple iii

with plastic floppy discs and a dot matrix printer

By the 90s it was a hard disc and a 386 computer

Soon we had laptops, cellphones, and flash drives

And satellites circle the earth

Digital Cameras made everyone a photographer

What a movie this life has been for the past

three quarters of a century and it’s not done yet!


Photo: Micah Roth


Coming to Terms with My Life

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These five stages of grief are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

~Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Acceptance turns to nostalgia

as I turn 75 tomorrow

Another year added to a long

interesting life

There is a sense of grief at this age

looking back and looking forward

Grief for the loss of what once was

realizing change is inevitable

Watching the next generation

moving on without you

Knowing someday, they too

will look back wishing

they had asked more questions

of the living

The future is a bit unsettling as

control may be forfeited

to someone else’s care

I pray that will not happen

I have wrestled with God

Argued with him threatened him

and been angry with him

At this point in life I have made

my peace with God and eternity

Some things are better left unknown

The subtle losses seem to hurt the most

There is anger at the changes that

occur in our physical bodies

The ringing in the ears, the loss of hearing

All that extra weight that comes on slowly

The medical field has no sensitivity

to body shaming, calling me obese

How is that any different than saying

you’re fat

Yet I am thankful I can still function

slower and with less energy but still going

Joints and muscles ache more at this age

but still remain relatively strong

My life’s work has been traded for

a more sedentary style of living

I look back and dream of what once was

Knowing memories are all we have

I listen to the old songs and relish

the pleasure of visions they hold

But joy comes in the grandchildren

so full of life and possibilities

I pray that they will find the strength

to face the realities of a changing world

and still show love and compassion

for those around them

It has been a long life and this, a long poem

So I think it is best to stop here.

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Lisa asked us to consider the five stages of grief and choose one to write our poem. Since tomorrow is my 75th birthday I chose to write about acceptance. I have kicked and screamed, so to speak, throughout my life. I still grumble and complain about the changes taking place, but for the most part I feel like I have made my peace with my life and am in a place of acceptance. Letting go is very difficult, but in reality we never really have control in this life.

Join us at:

Make a Difference

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What good is knowledge if it moves no one to action

The spouting of words and details that leave one wondering

Saving the words preserving the truth holds little value

without real life application and motivation for change


What good is rhetoric, going on and on, yet going nowhere

Outlining, detailing facts that leave us in confused limbo

Futuristic admonitions that leave us wondering, “So what?”

A lifeless dust storm of theories full of gritty residue


What good is history if we never learn from it

Generations cycling through life like hamsters in a cage

Looking back but never seeing, listening but never hearing

Doomed to repeat what we vowed would never happen again


Are the answers simply blowing in the winds of change?

Is change just one step forward and two steps back?

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Celebrating 52

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We were married two days after Christmas 52 years ago. Time has flown as we watched the whole world change around us. My first classroom had slate chalk boards. I typed my purple masters for school on a big black typewriter with keys, arms, and a ribbon!  Our TV was black and white with 13 channels and an antenna on the roof. We had a pushbutton telephone mounted on the wall. Seatbelts were not required when riding in our car. The Viet Nam War was still going strong. We had a record player with 33 1/3 vinyl records, as well as a cassette tape recorder for music. It is amazing how much has changed since then.

As we reflected on our past years of marriage. she came up with this jingle that sums up our years together.  I thought it was perfect!

Fifty-two years of hit and miss bliss!

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Photos from our trip to Myrtle Beach 2012

Looking into Time’s Mirror

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These old bones gaze on those old bones

filled with memories intertwined in each room.

Looking into a mirror of the past I wonder

if those old bones have memories…

of love and laughter in each room?

I open memory’s door to a dim view.

I see us all crowd around as we listen to

Mom reading stories enriching our minds;

instilling values and morals never forgotten.

This broken down pile of bones still stands…

Seventy-four years later it remembers my birth.

In the back bedroom, I came into the world…

A bouncing baby boy with a life of wonder ahead.

Now looking back, I see an old house;

A stack of bones, not unlike my own;

Still here // but for how long I do not know.

As I look into times mirror, I see what was…

A life full of joy and pain filled with memories.

Do houses remember that we have been there?

How much longer will I remember?

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Bjorn asked us to use conceit in our poem. Conceit in poetry uses metaphor and extends it by comparing and interwining two unlikely subjects in juxtaposition with each other. I took a trip down memory lane to the house where I was born. It is now old and run down, un-cared for and overgrown. These are some of my thoughts as I remember my visit there a couple of years ago.

Join us at:

Nature’s True Gold

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Our lives birthed from fire and ash

Chilled molten quartz rock left exposed

Eroded by providential trials and tribulations

Washing away the ash // the insignificant

Leaving us acne pocked and worn

Our igneous core shining in the sun

revealing the gold embedded within us

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Today is Quadrille Monday at d’Verse; and De Jackson asked us to write a Quadrille (exactly 44 words) using the word stone!  I took these photos on Saturday when we were at our local park, not knowing when I would use them. This seemed to be the perfect time.

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