Born Lucky


I was born lucky.  I would have chosen my parents right from the start.  I was loved and I felt loved. Maybe they chose me and maybe I chose them.  They were a perfect fit.  I would never claim I was better than others or worse than others.  I know that I saw the world around me with a different view than others had.  When my friends and neighbors complained about their siblings or parents, I  remained silent or said I would choose the same two brothers and the  same four sisters and the same parents.

We didn’t always agree on some subjects but I  knew that our parents were special.  It wasn’t about money.  Money didn’t buy happiness. It wasn’t about material things at all.  We learned to enjoy the foods we had, mostly beans and potatoes and corn bread, and occasionally biscuits and gravy.  It wasn’t about the things we didn’t have.  We learned to use what we had and do without the things we didn’t have. Flour sacks became clothes. Hand-me-downs were common.  Time spent with family was valuable time.  Respect and truth and love were important.  Each day was part of a life-long learning experience.

Even though I didn’t have much I learned how to work, how to play, how to enjoy the world every day.  I was not perfect but I didn’t feel mean or rotten.  I wanted to help people who were hurting, sad, or lonely.  I was usually considered “nice”.  I was a good person, willing to help neighbors and friends.  I could change a tire, carry buckets of water, travel across countries, and participate in games without getting angry as long as there were rules to follow.  I believed in rules and fairness.

Lucky? Maybe I should say I was treated fairly in life. When I saw what others had, what they needed, and the conditions surrounding them, I knew I was blessed.  The world around us did not appear fair in its treatment to others.  Perhaps I was so naïve or oblivious to problems that I escaped what could have been painful experiences.

When I compared my circumstances with others, I began to wake up and observe.  When I visited a friend who  made great claims regarding things he owned, I discovered the truth.  His imagination gave him all the things he didn’t have.  He didn’t live in a mansion. He didn’t drive a fancy car.  He was surrounded by problems that he chose not to see.  He was ashamed to invite me inside his house. The house was tiny and crowded. The windows were broken and needed replacements. The floor had holes.  The house was cold and damp.

The worst of it was the human factor.  How could they survive with conditions like this? It got worse.  In another room his brother sat on a bed in dirty clothes. His eyes were glazed over, flies were clustered all over his face, and yet he was smiling.   I could not imagine living in that home.  His parents were sitting at the kitchen table, discussing the weather, waiting for some super cells to hit the area, and wondering where to go.

Maybe that is why I began volunteering, helping out when I could.  I came into this world looking to do something for others and this was my opportunity to quit talking and begin acting.  I am lucky because I got a good start in life. My life has been blessed even though I have physical problems. Physical problems will not hold me back. I am a poet and a writer.  I must encourage others to help make the world a better place. I must act quickly because death is always waiting and I don’t have time to die.

July 23, 2017

 

 

 

 

TRADITIONS OF TRUTH


Traditions

Our family had traditions,

Coffee, morning newspaper, crossword puzzles,

Discussions about upcoming plans,

American holidays, political candidates,

The winners and also rans.

The discussions blended together

And nobody cussed,

But one thing was sure, we sought the truth,

We took pride in knowing George Washington

Didn’t lie when he chopped down the cherry tree,

And Lincoln was known as “honest Abe”,

They were leaders we could look up to.

We believed our country attracted the world’s best,

And with hard work and determination

We could rise to the top with all the rest.

Our leaders were thoughtful and honest,

 We believed in a handshake or giving our word,

To lie or to cheat was simply absurd.

We believed in who we were fighting for or voting for,

And we wanted to be known for  loving more.

But somehow our love relationships and respect

For each other has gone out the door.

There are no more honest presidents like George or Abe.

Our words are not true and our relationships worthless to save.

We are not honest and always true,

Ugly Americans, we are called, and other words too.

Where are the immigrants, natives, and protectors of rights?

We hide in the darkness and run from the light.

It’s time to tell the truth.

July 22, 2017

 

 

CHOICES


 WHICH CHOICE SHOULD I MAKE?

 

I’m not crazy even though you disagree.

I’m simply a man wanting justice, for people like me.

This world is full of lonely people ready to explode

They carry heavy burdens and they need to unload.

Just because I got angry when you killed the cat.

Life to me is precious. What do you think about that?

“Animals are just creatures”, you said once or twice.

Some should be burned alive, the others frozen in ice.

You called my mom a slut right in front of her face,

I love my mom. Your remark was way out of place.

My blood was boiling, your tongue had no control,

Yet you continued talking, words that were cruel and cold.

You laughed, “There’s no reason for her to live.”

We had both watched a bag lady pull children from a fire,

Without concern for her own life, she didn’t stop to enquire,

What color, social group, language they spoke,

They were children, worthy of rescue from the blazing pyre.

You laughed, “There’s no reason for her to live.”

You continued talking, words that were cruel and cold,

My blood was boiling, and I finally lost my control.

Am I crazy? People might have a reason to ask.

I’m almost sorry I chose you to be my very best friend,

And now I’m trying to decide whether I can forgive you.

Should I walk away, turn you in, or let our friendship end?

July 15, 2017

 

TIGHT-KNIT FAMILY


Illusion

What I expected from life and what turned out to be real were often opposites.  The truth was sometimes only an illusion waiting to be revealed at a later date.

Several years ago I lived alone in a large house near Kansas City, Missouri.  The house was new and I wanted to keep it clean for all the guests who wandered through during the afternoons. The house was like an art gallery, with seventy-four water-color paintings situated throughout  the house. There were three floors and people who were not accustomed to stairs were warned about the physical strength required. I’m telling you this because you might understand later what I had to do.

I would begin cleaning in the master bedroom on the third floor and gradually work my way down to the recreation room and storage rooms.  I could never get completely finished before starting over again. That’s why I hired a family business to take over two times a month.

The business was run by a woman and her two brothers.  She was clearly the one in charge, and each had certain tasks to do. Rebekkah, the manager and owner, kept everyone on task, stopping only for short breaks. She cleaned the bathrooms and the kitchen, because everyone noticed appliances and fixtures.  Jacob, the youngest brother vacuumed and dusted.  Joe, the oldest, was the fix-it man and landscape man.  They appeared to work as a unit, always close by. I began to believe that if there was a problem all would help as a unit.

On a scheduled cleaning day no one showed up.   “Odd,” I thought. I waited, but there were no calls. “What’s going on?” I wondered. “This is so unlike them.”

But outside, there were three trees on the ground, cut into firewood, ready to be brought up and stored near the house.  I assumed Joe had been there, doing his job.

The next day when I arrived home after work, the house was clean.  Still, no one was there and there were no calls or notes.

(illusion continued)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The house was too big for one person to keep clean.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Illusion
What I expected from life and what turned out to be real were often opposites.  The truth was sometimes only an illusion waiting to be revealed at a later date.
Several years ago I lived alone in a large house near Kansas City, Missouri.  The house was new and I wanted to keep it clean for all the guests who wandered through during the afternoons. The house was like an art gallery, with seventy-four water-color paintings situated throughout  the house. There were three floors and people who were not accustomed to stairs were warned about the physical strength required. I’m telling you this because you might understand later what I had to do.
I would begin cleaning in the master bedroom on the third floor and gradually work my way down to the recreation room and storage rooms.  I could never get completely finished before starting over again. That’s why I hired a family business to take over two times a month.
The business was run by a woman and her two brothers.  She was clearly the one in charge, and each had certain tasks to do. Rebekkah, the manager and owner, kept everyone on task, stopping only for short breaks. She cleaned the bathrooms and the kitchen, because everyone noticed appliances and fixtures.  Jacob, the youngest brother vacuumed and dusted.  Joe, the oldest, was the fix-it man and landscape man.  They appeared to work as a unit, always close by. I began to believe that if there was a problem all would help as a unit.
On a scheduled cleaning day no one showed up.   “Odd,” I thought. I waited, but there were no calls. “What’s going on?” I wondered. “This is so unlike them.”
But outside, there were three trees on the ground, cut into firewood, ready to be brought up and stored near the house.  I assumed Joe had been there, doing his job.
The next day when I arrived home after work, the house was clean.  Still, no one was there and there were no calls or notes.
(illusion continued)

i

The house was too big for one person to keep clean.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CREATE


CREATION

How can something be created out of nothing?

do existing building blocks

determine whether new creations are formed?

What is new? Something that grew?

Or is that simply a step away from 

something we already knew?

I shudder to think the world is on the brink

Of changing what was originally created,

building and connecting and welcoming

something which could survive in a nuclear sea,

something we could eat or drink,

but not eat you or me.

My idea of creation is a more gentle view,

where love and life may begin anew,

and all things, artificial or natural, are beautiful

without hate changing any part of me or you.

June 17, 201

 

TOO MUCH


TOO MUCH

 

She was too tall. I was too short.

She was too rich. I was too poor.

She was too thin. I was too fat.

She was too old. I was too young.

She was too hot. I was too cold.

I loved her too much.  She loved me more.

She listened to others. I didn’t listen at all at first.

Together we loved passionately and filled our days with laughter.

Our love had no boundaries until we listened too much.

Our friends said we needed each other too much.

They said we should stay away and give each other time to grow and love others.

 I think our friends were wrong.

Now I have too much time and too much unfulfilled love.

How can I hurt so much and feel so empty?

I want to be with her again with less friends.

They had too much time and not enough love to fill their own lives.

Maybe I want too much love, but I am ready to give

Too much love forever.

 

6/15/17

OTHERS, LIARS, and MANY MORE


OTHERS, LIARS, AND MANY  MORE

 

Hezer did not listen to their lies.  Everything they said seemed to be poisoned arrows aimed directly at him. Why did they continue to speak their malicious words? Why were they lying? What had he done to deserve this?

                More and more people were beginning to hate him.  He could feel the hatred, see their eyes grow cold, and know they were talking about him behind his back. “Don’t talk to him. He’s not someone we want to associate with.” “Did you hear what he wants to do now?” “People are disappearing.  He’s got to be stopped before it gets worse.”

 The lies were growing, stretching from small sores into festering, gaping wounds that he could not stop.  The more the lies were told, the more the lies were believed. The lies became the truth, comprehended and interpreted to be facts.   Facts were created out of imagined truths and soon there was no distinction between fact and fiction.

His skin was brown and soft, different from theirs.  He was one of the newly created liars, his DNA altered by scientists eager to produce a race of people who could survive under the extreme conditions of a nuclear war.

 At first scientists were proud to claim they had made improvements to mankind. But it was only a matter of time before things began to change.

 The media began with grandiose announcements informing the general public that scientists were gods capable of building a new future.   With the cooperation of everyone the new people could be blended into everyday life with no harmful results. The new people were reputed to be extraordinary workers, requiring less sleep and less rest. In addition, they were very friendly. That brought up the possibility of less hate between nations and less wars.  On paper and in controlled situations everything seemed perfect.  Everybody was thrilled to see changes being made.

As the years passed and war loomed over mankind without actually happening, the differences between the liars and normal humans became festering sores.  All the things humans wanted to do, the new people insisted they could do better.  The liars were reputed to jump higher, run faster, and have better sex.

A lie gets better in the telling, while the truth is always the same.  Stories became ludicrous as the stories stretched and grew.  The liars changed the truth in small increments, made the lies deceive humans who were ready to believe.  Scientists rushed to tell the truth and make claims based on fact, but it was too late.  The lies were no longer lies.  They had been told too often with no opposition and now all the people believed them.

Because the liars had few differences, the others, (the common humans) were concerned the liars would begin taking over. The others struck first, quietly replacing the liars in their jobs. Humans retook  power positions. This time the others were careful to keep the appearance of being fair with no discrimination.  Laws were enacted to increase the number of lies. Lawyers, politicians, and sales personnel were expected to lie consistently.  Their habits were already well established.

The truth is plain, although it has been known to be naked, harsh, or ugly.  Lies come in many colors, and can be very pretty or very ugly.  The liars came in many colors, which made them very special and easily seen.  They were often targets and many had been attacked and killed by frustrated others. Although liars liked being noticed and admired, they were opposed to being killed. The others, or humans as they liked to be called, deviated from the plain truth, and many others would testify in court that liars did not have as many witnesses as others did.  Therefore the liars must be lying. Others ignored the fact that “it only takes one to tell the truth. It takes many to keep a lie.”

Wars did not stop because the liars were created. Wars were often started because of miscommunication between political groups. Liars became the scapegoats in many countries and were forced to defend the truth, especially when others covered up the truth or divided it into small portions.  Liars continued to ask for the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

The world became divided into four distinct levels.  But that was after the world lost much of its wisdom and hope. It was a time of lies and secrets, a time to restore life and love, and a time when all things beautiful became a part of truth. But that’s another story that deserves to be embellished and expanded, stretched and interpreted, loved and hated, and turned into choices which began at the very beginning of time.

 

Others became the highest group. Liars were the middle group. Many were in the next level.

The lowest group were the poets, singers, philosophers, and others who told the truth.  

June 4, 2017