Gene Pool DNA

Pop & Mom and Chris (2)

Gene Pool DNA

I can see him smiling in the mirror

I could talk of my blue eyes

From my father

Or his large nose with creases

In the sides // just above the nostril

All passed down to me in lovers mix

Then there are varicose veins

From my mother

Decorating my calves

Like dribbles of icing on a cake

But the best inherited body part of all

Came from both

Father and Mother

I inherited their hearts

Beating as one

A heart for others

Compassion for those in need

Faith to believe that God loves

Every one no matter what

They might have done

A helix of Love exemplified as

“The Word made Flesh”


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today Kim at d’Verse asked us to choose a body part that we have inherited from our parents, and write a poem in the first person about it. I took it a step further and made it a metaphorical body part.

Come join us at d’Verse:  hppt://


Going for the Gold (a Quadrille)

See the source image


Quadrille Monday at d’Verse~Poetry Pub with De Jackson asking us to use the word murmur in our poem. I chose the Olympics and Chloe Kim winning the Gold Medal in Snowboarding as my subject.

Chloe Kim

Riding on top of the leaderboard

Competitors chasing for the Gold

Snowboarders wipe out one by one

Murmurs permeate the crowd

Will she hang on to the top spot?

Last competitor bites the snow

Victory run almost perfect

Chloe Kim //Wins Gold!!



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Hometown Smokin’

Coke ovens painting

Rows of beehive coke ovens dotted the hillside belching out black smoke. At night they looked like rows of jack-o-lanterns glowing orange on the hillsides above the mines. Coke is coal that is half burned to get the gasses out. When it is reburned in the steel mills, it burns much hotter than coal. Ovens burned day and night when I was a small boy, growing up in Masontown.

Masontown, Pennsylvania, nestled in the Pennsylvania Mountains, is about an hour from Pittsburgh and almost that far from Morgantown, WVA. The region around Masontown had rich bituminous coal deposits, with some veins up to nine feet thick. The town lay just above the Monongahela River, which transported the coal and coke on flat barges to the steel mills in Pittsburgh.

Around the town and along the river, were rows and rows of houses called patches. They were built by the coal company, along with a company store that sold just about everything. It was a very hard life and many people literally owed their soul to the company store.  Each patch had a coal mine and rows of block and brick ovens, where the coal was converted to coke and loaded on barges or train cars. Tennessee Ernie Ford’s song, Sixteen Tons, was about this kind of life.

Coke ovens // long gone

Black lungs residuals stay

Clean air // still they choke


Painting of Coke Ovens: Dwight L. Roth

Today we were asked by Mish, at d’Verse Poetry Pub, to write a Hai bun about our hometown. This includes up to three paragraphs of pros followed by a Haiku that compliments the pros. This is my story.

You can look up the song Sixteen Tons on YouTube.

Leap of Faith

IMG_5009 Dwight & Ruth Selfie at Mtyl Bch

Today, at the d’verse~Poetry Pub, we have been asked to write a Quadrille (44 words) using the word leap. Check out the d’verse site at:

Today, the first day January 2018

I remember

On the steps of the the Ad Building

You captivated me with your innocent smile

In 1969, as America took the leap

Landing men on the moon,

We planned our leap of faith

Vows lasting a lifetime


Photo: Dwight L. Roth




Changing Truth vs Chasing Truth

Piercing the Darkness - 2014

Some people believe truth is whatever one claims for themselves. Others have very rigid ideas of what truth entails. Every religion has what it consider to be it’s truth. I believe the search for truth is a part of everyone’s mind. For this reason, I originally called this poem Chasing Truth. It is sad to me to see how things get twisted, shaped, manipulated and distorted. This poem attempts to share that feeling. The painting reflects truth from a Christian perspective. “The Word Made Flesh…”

Chasing Truth

I run toward truth

                     Arms wide open as a lover’s embrace

Breathless with anticipation

I move through the swamp’s fog

Heading for higher ground


I reach for truth 

Gathering it as bort on the diamond cutter’s floor

Only to find the chips

Are parts of a much larger facet

Shining as they may 

They are only the edges of a greater glory


I grasp truth

 As a child clings to his toy

Thinking no one else will possess it but me

Settling for sparkling dust on the cutting room floor

 And seeking no more


I find truth

Shining in all its faceted glory

Set in nature’s gold and love’s embrace

Only to tarnish it

With Id and Ego

Thinking it is I who makes it shine


I face truth

Dimmed by all its light

Surely if I change it some,

It will suit me much better when not so bright


So, I grind it

 With mortise and pestle

‘Till all it becomes is dust in the bowl

 Never again to be part of the whole


Painting – Piercing the Darkness: Dwight L. Roth

This is our last post on the d’Verse~Poetry Pub group. It is open mic night

so I am posting one of my favorite poems and paintings.

Check out d’verse at:

Riding the Groove

Masontown Neighbors sledding 001

Growing up in Pennsylvania, ice and snow were a given every winter. We loved riding down the hill past my house. Those who did not have sleds rode double with us and we all enjoyed the fun. Sometimes we would come out at night on full moon and ride in the moonlight. Lillian from the d’Verse~Poetry Pub gave us the prompt groove for us to use in a poem. I hope you enjoy riding with me in the groove. The photo above shows all of us sledding on our hill. Can you guess which one is me?

Riding the Groove

Snow is falling the road is white

Packed down by cars’ spinning tires

Night has fallen, the temperature drops

But still the snow inspires

Out on the hill the neighbors gathered

Undaunted by chill in the air

Kids on sleds loaded down for the ride

Are seeking their thrill out there

Run and jump on, ride all the way down

Past the mailboxes garden and fence

Each time it seems to go faster now

We all watch how far they went

My Lightning Glider is ready, I know

As two at a time we go

A big push, he jumps on my back

Riding that groove of ice in the snow


Photo from family album: Our Gang!!

Check out d’Verse~Poetry Pub here:




#1    4′ x 4′

Appreciation is one of the most pleasant surprised one can encounter. To have your work loved and appreciated is validation like no other.  A couple of years ago, I was asked by a friend to paint his childhood home, which has long been torn down. He had one photo of the house and wanted the painting for his aging father, who was in early dementia. He hung the painting on his wall and brought his father in to view it. He told me his father just stood and looked and looked at it, making comments about the house and its past.

This past year, as I was driving home from town, I got a cell phone call from his aunt, who wondered if I could paint one for her as well. She said her husband saw the original one and really loved it. When it was finished, they loved it and even gave me a tip! She called me up a week later saying how much they appreciated the painting.  What a pleasant surprise to fell this kind of appreciation.

Our old house is gone

Many great mem’ries remain

Painting preserves joy


#2   4′ x 4′

Paintings: Dwight L. Roth

This was written for:

Frank Hubney asked us to write a Haibun with the prompt — Pleasantly Surprised.

A Haiban is a poem composed of a short prose followed by a Haiku. The two when combined make the Haiban.



“Lead, follow, or get out of the way!”  These words describe change. We can be a part of change that always looks forward, living on the cutting edge of life, or we can be that pothole in the road that everyone tries to avoid. Taking ownership in change makes it easier to accept. No one has ever kept change from happening by complaining about it. Lead the way to the future by taking a positive outlook on change.


Can’t imagine being stuck

In leisure suits and bell bottoms

Fashions come and go

And sometimes come back

To haunt us


What age would you choose

For your groundhog day…

Waking each morning

Looking in the mirror to see

That smiling face that never ages.

Your peers grow older and change

But you retain that wrinkle-free smile


Accept change as a fact of life or…

You can choose the plastic alternative.

Inside changes continue

But, with the right surgeon

You can lie unchanged in the coffin.


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

This poem written for the prompt Change on the dVerse~Poetry Pub.

Check it out here: