“Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.” ― William Butler Yeats
Monday, May 27, 2019
On the Power of Doubt
Saturday, May 25, 2019
This I Believe
Sunday, May 19, 2019
On a need to simply my life
Saturday, May 18, 2019
This then still, an update
This, then still
Thursday, May 9, 2019
Grace and Mercy
We all carry the burden of sin.
You Offer Me Grace,
I will offer you Mercy.
Grace; is the space I need to grow from where I am now, to where he wants me to be.
Mercy; is the ability I will have to help carry your burden when I have grown stronger.
Facebook
May 9, 2015
Tuesday, May 7, 2019
Playing for the other team
She played for the other team now.
Why had it come to this,
screwed by every man,
She sleeped with.
First her brother when young.
Then another in high school.
Father blamed her for brother,
and little sister.
The day in court, his brother,
now in jail.
The family then, is broken.
So now she plays for the other team.
Will this, now, then be different.
A new cast of lovers, different team, same problem.
This new separation, and lack of intimacy.
Maybe now she can love herself.
Heal herself.
Then once more, real Intimacy?
With the one she loves.
Sunday, May 5, 2019
Ode to the Poem
#1 Love Letter: Ode to the Poem
Wednesday, May 1, 2019
On the Birth of Poetry
Like a tiny seedling from a mighty pine tree, it sat fallow for years, on the forest floor, waiting for that majestic fire to set it free.
He wondered where it came from, the poetry, never a desire of his was it. This magic, this gift from God. It sat silent, for years at the center of his soul, bursting forth at that great fire, the coming death of the one he loved and adored.
The first one came sitting on the back porch of their home. The family was sitting in the back, around the fire. Enjoying a laugh or two. He struggled to see how he fit, in their world. At work was he always, seeking the funds to keep them afloat.
The gardner was returning joy to the ones, who's laughter he had not heard, in years. It was good to hear her laugh. The cancer would consume her soon but the children would be left with the memories from the gardner. He had come to bring the cure, but joy supplied he also.
You came with your gift them. Laying fallow at the center of his soul. It consoled him, supplied the strength to continue. Years it would take to find his place, in their lives again. The anger, and guilt and shame, came out in the poetry. First to Facebook and then to select close friends. Then to the one he loved. This then to return to intimacy long lost. He then thankful for your discovery of the poetry.
Sunday, April 28, 2019
On Delayed Intimacy
Why can he not,
fullfill, this one request.
The stubborn, refusal,
this one, thing,
years of intimacy, lost.
Does he not know,
I feel the loss, too.
He thinks not of my needs.
He thinks this is pain, I now inflict
To win, a battle of wills.
I fear more, for his loss,
our loss, if give in,
then do I,
as times, before.
Someday he will come to see,
my loss, our loss,
together.
I hope by then,
it is not, to late,
to recover, true intimacy.
Tuesday, April 23, 2019
on loving his wife.
He remembered why she chose him.
The things that were special,
about them.
In remembering,
he sought forgiveness,
and warmth, and intimacy.
To rebuild and renew,
a life with the one he cherished.
So grateful for the life,
she has renewed,
today, together.
Monday, April 22, 2019
The Last Lover
She, then this,
my lover be.
If not the first,
she then be?
Then ever such,
shall we see.
Then feed my soul,
thus will she.
Then this search,
this lifetime be.
No others lover's,
then we see.
Then, thus the last,
we shall we be.
A poem Jose Christensen ask me to write for his wife.
Sunday, April 21, 2019
Within it's shadow
He has lived within
it's shadow for nearly 55 years.
It was the first commenced,
and the last completed,
in the Utah Territory.
He has visited it grounds
many times.
Visiting the interior, only once,
for the marriage, of a family member.
These then visits to the exterior,
this, then continued,
for years.
Like yearly visits, to his soul.
Someday, to the interior,
he will go,
this, then to visit,
like yearly trips,
to his soul.
Friday, April 19, 2019
The First Loss - Together
Is a pain,
if cause not real,
less felt this day?
Their first loss come,
those first few months,
then twins she thought.
Deeply felt he the loss.
Not remember by now,
does she.
Yet deep in the journals,
are his thoughts, from that day.
Brother Bair, and the blessing,,
that day.
Years later, they would learn,
born not, able to create life,
was he, that day.
Still deeply felt he the loss,
that day.
Was the pain, and the loss,
felt that day, a gift,
from the one eternal,
who loves them, this day.
This he carries,
as an understanding,
to this day.
On Baby Fat
No signs of birth,
on her body that day.
on the beach, that summer day.
of her legs, that day.
for stretch marks and signs of birth,
on her body, that day.
not to prevent birth, but to preserve,
the possibility, someday.
my wife, this day.
6 children, this day.
who loved them this day.
for the fruits, of her womb,
was felt then, past days.
marks of birth, on your body,
this day.
of your womb, then, this day.
Tuesday, April 16, 2019
On Being Married to Martha
Martha was in the kitchen,
preparing the food.
Mary sat at Jesus feet,
learning the truths,
of the Gospel.
Mary studied the Gospel,
Martha lived it.
I am married to a Martha,
and Mary, then I be.
Dispointed am I,
that Milton discuss,
she will not.
Their are meals to prepare,
and a house to clean.
On those rare occasions,
it is finished,
an afagan she starts,
or a quilt she cuts out.
I knew she was Martha,
when I married her.
Then disappointed, why be I,
that Mary, she is not.
Remember I must,
why I chose her,
and she chose me.
Mary and Martha, one team
May we be.
Saturday, April 13, 2019
Thru a glass darkly
of brass, not of glass.
of me.
On the wedding
in the church,
not the chapel.
you see.
or The Cultural Hall
this new family,
has been, and is now.
together, this day.
began together, a time ago.
plus two, began the journey
anew this day.
and continue,
this now.
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Between the liquid and the solid
the liquid, and the solid waste.
thus begins, anew.
Sunday, April 7, 2019
Two Afghans
afghans, on his bed.
who, created his life.
who shares it now.
as they shelter, his sleep .
his place with each.
he rejected both, afghans.
Being double stich.
and placed at the foot,
of their bed, in the winter.
he rejected,
on that first Christmas,
together.
on their many dates, that fall,
and winter.
to shelter their two hearts,
as the afgans shelter him,
this day.
Saturday, April 6, 2019
On the first night, together
It was their first night together,
as a couple.
It was a family hunting trip,
with his parents.
They shared separate sleeping bags,
together.
His brother, questioned, their decision.
His brother, was enjoying the warmth,
of his sleeping bag,
with his new girlfriend.
Little did, his brother understand,
the nature,
of their future covenant's.
The promise of real intimacy,
if they kept that covenant.
The children that would come,
and their life together,
if they kept, their covenant.
Tuesday, April 2, 2019
On life Eternal, the coming day
She awakes in the morning,
to prepare for the coming day.
Husband, children
these always on her mind.
The coming projects,
and the ones past due.
These have been her life,
these past, coming years.
Now to be grateful for,
the continuation, of life.
This there was a time,
that may not be.
This then to be grateful for,
the comings days.
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
On the Gardener
He invited a gardner,
to plant a garden.
This then to renew, a life,
He adores.
The time for departure, comes soon
much too soon.
This then, the promise,
of renewal.
He lived with this dread,
this day, for decades.
The time of departure,
they thought not of, together.
Life was full, and this was future,
far future.
Then the bell does toll,
the time now comes.
Does he have the faith,
to trust in the gardener,
This, they will, then, see.
Tuesday, March 26, 2019
On living with Nada
Saturday, March 23, 2019
On Prokaryote
they were whole,
one, complete.
when recognize, her, there,
He did not.
They share all.
No protective layer,
surrounding, their essence,
Adam and Eve,
been Prokaryote?
"In the beginning, "
before the loss, of recognition,
Tuesday, March 19, 2019
On Male PMS
He was the one,
in the family,
with PMS.
There, he spent,
the first morning, as a family,
on the bathroom floor,
the tears they did flow.
How many times, again,
had they flowed.
The loss of the first ones,
two she had said,
then a new family, they had been,
or so she concieved,
the loss, then real, or not,
then felt the same.
They were fighting, the morning,
when the first one did come.
and many days still, as one,
they become.
30 years past and the tears,
still flow, for him, for her, for them.
As now two separate homes,
they build together.
Saturday, March 16, 2019
On the smell of new life, creation.
Let's make a baby, she said,
there on her waterbed.
This, then, installed last week,
when her things, they moved in.
She was the first,
and would remain, the one only,
to make such a request.
Her Dad had feared,
the roof would collapse,
on the family home,
when her trousseau,
She, removed.
It contained all,
the ingredients needed,
to create a family,
cept, a husband.
Thirty years, she waited,
for this day.
It was not the first night,
but second.
The first night,
a pajama night,
had been.
The temple wedding,
the reception, in Franklin,
with family, and friends.
These had taken,
all her energy,
that first night.
That first morning, he spent,
crying in the bathroom,
at this apartment.
She left, the Family Breakfast,
early, to the temple,
with her best friend.
She thought,
she was offering,
a kindness.
He thought,
she preferred,
her best friend.
Then were the smells,
on the morning,
of the third day.
they awoke early,
to prepare for this
their new life,
together.
No time for a honeymoon.
That would never come.
He was needed,
at the repair shop.
She, a home,
to organize.
Coming home that night,
the apartment clean
a fridge with food,
dinner on the table,
and clean laundry.
These things,
his mom,
did not ...
these then, new smells,
then did surprise him,
that morn'.
Like the smell,
of the ice cream bucket,
in their friends truck,
containing the nauseous, contents
of a nights dinner.
The one held to celebrate,
the arrival of the couples,
first child, that next spring.
the smell of new love,
and stale sex.
like two moose,
rutting in the woods,
bringing new life, to the world.
or two socks,
sitting in the bottom,
of the hamper,
waiting to be renewed,
at next weeks laundry.
The gentle nibbling,
on her ear, as they sought,
to start, that new life,
together.
These are the smells,
that surprised him,
that second morning.
The large righteous, posterity,
God had promised him.
Create not together,
they would.
These babies would come,
from one, who loved, them all.
This, new source
a handmaiden, she would be.
In the Torah, a handmaiden,
is the one, to supply a new life,
when no life, create, the couple,
together.
Hagar, Ruth, and Mary,
such handmaidens,
had been to God
and the family.
In time, her sister,
then one, would be.
Still the smells, the next morn',
he would forget not.
The life, this then, they nurture,
together, this day.
Monday, March 11, 2019
On Coyote Sex
howling at the hole.
To this place.
they had been,
together, and apart.
on the second day.
On the ear.
To help, to make a baby.
From one who luved them, all.
To the first wife.
Again.
The weekly visits,
To remind her again,
How valued, she is,
To him.
intimacy.
Friday, March 8, 2019
She painted the ceiling blue v1
How many times had she been in this position,
Late night sharing an intimacy.
Young love when it was good for her.
Before the children.
Then later when to fullfill his needs.
Now it all became routine.
So she painted the sealing blue.
How to then return to the love of youth.
When it was good for her, for him, for them?
Wednesday, March 6, 2019
On Vulgar Notions
Late night sharing an intimacy.
Young love when it was good for her,
before the children.
when to fill his needs,
it all became routine,
So, she painted the ceiling blue.
to the intimacy of youth.
for him,
for them?
(G.K. Chesterton, All Things Considered)
Monday, February 25, 2019
The town square.
Was a triangle.
Saturday, in Kemmer Wyoming.
In the family.
just needed a night out.
Grown, with their own babies.
At home.
Or so she thought.
They started their own,
Journey.
Now I tell you.
Thursday, February 21, 2019
Saturday, February 16, 2019
The Letters in the Cedar Chest
Now we return, from the burial.
Nearly fifty year's has it been.
He was not the first,
he would remain,
the last.
Nearly 50 years, the covenant,
she then, kept.
Lordy lordy, then how this day.
A promise, she made.
A promise she kept.
Still the letters,
she kept, from the first one,
in the cedar chest.
Were they dreams,
of an everyday housewife.
To hold to the promise,
while remembering,
the past?
Life was difficult with Daddy.
This I learn now,
as I share the burden,
this day.
This luv we share,
this promise we keep,
then, this day.
So if keeping the letters,
from the first,
help renew, the present,
then who I am to judge, the choice,
For the strength, it provides.
This day.
Friday, February 15, 2019
On ironing and waiting
Their she waited,
By the back door,
Ironing clothes, to pass the time.
This having something do,
While, she waits.
This young one,
This product, of love.
The gift of the body,
Like the others, too.
How to help him,
Be a man.
With a large brood,
Time with each,
Is hard, to come by.
When he left,
Such words, of anger,
Between us then.
Never coming home, he said.
I am a man, he said.
Does a man, do this to his mother?
Maybe come home,
He will not,
Then this my heart, will be broken.
Still I wait.
As so many others wait,
Their by.
Always the light on,
And a lesson to share,
This then child,
Becomes a man.
Monday, February 11, 2019
To the Generations
Saturday, February 9, 2019
The Motel and Dance
Made it home,
early, then,
the vacancy sign,
was lite.
Come home now,
to clean house,
for your Daddy
this day.
Maybe Daddy will work,
half a day, their being,
no burial today.
Daddy loves to dance,
it may kill him,
someday.
The Elks have a band,
this day, this Saturday.
Ten children,
to feed,
the motel to clean
and Voyle's wedding,
come soon.
This then the fight with Nancy,
the dishes this day.
I know Voyle's needs to help?
But this battle is a fight, I have lost,
long ago.
Lordy child,
how did I go so wrong,
with this one.
What my brother did was wrong,
so wrong.
This then the guilt,
I carry this day.
Lynn too, we will learn to love.
That child, I wonder if mature,
he ever will,
someday.
When come the babies,
to that two.
We will love and cherish,
and mourn this day.
Then another house to clean,
for their babies ,
a fresh start, that day.
To clean this,
a house, seams woman's work,
this day.
As men work,
to clean their lives,
this then,
love finds a way.
To make the dance,
this day.
Forsaken not, me
Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani.
I believed in the end,
that a lamb would be found,
in the thicket.
did you not find a lamb,
for Abraham.
Thus alone, now,
am I.
this time has come,
now i pay the price,
the full price,
for their sins.
Then am I,
the lamb in the thicket,
you found, for abraham.
then this cup I shall drink,
this penalty I shall pay.
For you love, them,
as do I.
--
Steven Bassett
On Personal Revelation
Alexander D. Hale, Personal Revelation: The Teachings and Examples of the Prophets, General Conference, October 2007 |
John Milton also learned this lesson the hard way. Toward the end of his life, when the English Republic failed and he had not received his epic poem, he pondered if his life mission was a failure. He then received this poem.
When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide;
"Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er Land and Ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait."
John Milton, On his blindness, 1673
We never know what God has in waiting to bless us. We must be willing to wait and serve and listen to what he desires us to do with our lives. With the Baptism of my only child, I thought I would never perform a priesthood ordinance for another child. Little did I know the blessings that would follow with the adoption of my son.
So wait but also move forward and seek to bless the lives of his children, while he seeks to bless us with things in the due, and proper time.
On Proper family size.
Friday, January 25, 2019
To return the boon
I'm journeyed forth, from the cave,
once more.
To return again, with the boon.
Thus to share, saught I,
But all they saw were the images,
on the wall.
How many times, must I return,
to the place, of there confinement?
It would be so much more manageable to go.
I have the tools. I have the boon,
yet I can not leave them.
So I return,
again,
and again,
and again.
With the boon.
Until the images, for them,
become unreal,
and we leave once more ...
Together.
Tuesday, January 15, 2019
on being one
First they were them,
one, in Adam,
then Eve was removed,
for his sake.
Now they are two.
Then when, do they now,
become one?
Then?
Friday, December 28, 2018
Grandmas paintings
How late in life,
Did she begin, to paint?
I see them now,
She is gone.
Never an artist,
Yet a painter.
As never a poet,
Yet a writer, am I.
Did they bring her joy?
I have them now,
She is gone.
Will my children have my poems,
When gone I am?
To bring to bring them, joy?
Tuesday, December 25, 2018
A Christmas mourn
This then Christmas mourn,
then past.
This then many years,
To see the joy
Then to return
This then year's of sorrow,
Then be gone.
The cancer took its toll.
Never I thought the joy,
Could, return.
Now the cure, then to, the joy.
The sorrow, now, no more.
This then saught, but not believed.
Then to us now, be grateful for,
Here, then still ...
Wednesday, November 28, 2018
Now he sleeps
to the doctor.
the emergency room,
this fear, then panic,
averted.
then anew.
spread again.
the panic then too.
for her, for them.
Tuesday, November 27, 2018
The wounds old and new
then, his bandages.
This time do I then,
again
This then the service,
offer, then, this day.
The injury, the accident.
Then the infection sets in.
The surgery to remove,
this infection,
as many in the past,
both physical, and spiritual,
then the time, now to heal.
I wrap the wounds,
to begin the process,
then to heal these wounds.
then, to begin, anew.
To heal this, new wound,
and the ones,
long past.
This service, now,
then does increase,
our love, for one another.
Saturday, November 24, 2018
On the Final Judgement
Friday, November 16, 2018
On my grandmothers
I lived with their stories, then.
Recently discovered,
how then to understand,
Now ...
Her and the baby, yet unborn?
To return,
to their Eternal, home?
the children then to raise,
On her own.
Her story, then yet,
Unknown.
Tuesday, November 13, 2018
On Mary and Elizabeth
Monday, November 12, 2018
Schrödingers cat,
the possibilies open,
while the box remains closed.
To make a choice, then ...
or to be subjected to,
anothers choice.
Mistakes I have made,
paths I have chosen,
now subject to these,
remain I, this day.
Tuesday, November 6, 2018
Brokenness and the Fall of Man
Monday, November 5, 2018
To this then the covenant
To this day, we make, the covenant.
Not for time, only
but for eternity.
This then does include,
the children.
We promise to love,
when we are unlovable.
If we are commanded,
to pray for our enemies,
does this not include,
our families.
We often quarell,
with ones, who know us best.
Into the covenant,
with both eyes open,
we remain inside with one, now closed.
To the remainder of my days,
I keep my covenant,
as she keeps hers.
Saturday, November 3, 2018
On Aeschylus
My favorite poet was Aeschylus. He wrote: "In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God."
Robert F Kennedy April 4 1968
Indianapolis Indiana
https://www.jfklibrary.org/learn/about-jfk/the-kennedy-family/robert-f-kennedy/robert-f-kennedy-speeches/statement-on-assassination-of-martin-luther-king-jr-indianapolis-indiana-april-4-1968
Friday, November 2, 2018
The son of the mourning
This then, the morning after.
the battle, here in her home.
Sorrow filled her heart.
That her chosen one.
The son of the morning,
Would do this.
Full of so much promise.
His, and their light,
would diminish now.
Now it begins,
the choice, the real choice.
She had loved them all.
But now her heart breaks.
One third gone,
unredeemable, of his choice.
She wished she could have kept them,
here, cradled them, in her bosom.
She had loved them,
from, Eternity.
Now comes their choice,
real choice.
Michael would become, Adam.
The first man, in the new formed world.
But this loss,
the first loss,
of many to come.
It may be the greatest.
This then breaks her heart.
The son of the mourning.
Thursday, November 1, 2018
Shades of the choice
Gods
mine, or his?
Saturday, October 27, 2018
The common-law wife.
To be the mistress,
or common-law wife.
Young she was when,
she came to the Swans.
Her parents, gone.
To be indentured then,
a servant girl.
Then love did come,
to the servant girl.
But this being Victorian times.
This uneven match, could not be.
He the son of the master.
Yet children did come,
acknowledged, by the masters son.
Then blessed in the church.
It was not a bad life.
good food,
a warm bed,
children educated,
and later, the masters home.
30 years she waited, but marriage did come.
To this, then the wife,
she becomes ...
* This is a true story grandmother, Elenor Broome