Archive for January, 2007

Annie

Saturday, January 6th, 2007

Annie.

Anne E.

The transition was not as great as I expected.

The years have gone by too fast.

She gradually became an educated woman

and a married lady.

Whenever I close my eyes

I see her smile, her blond hair, her athletic figure.

I see her on a racing bike, head down flying past.

I see her peeking out of the photos she takes of others,

the remade people,

those who don’t know they are parts of everyman,

not whole people, but holy people in her camera’s eye.

She is undefined.

She is a woman’s woman.

Anne E.

Annie.

John

Saturday, January 6th, 2007

My Dad was a tough guy,

but not like John is tough.

When John was too young to remember

he must have felt inside his body a heart,

a brain, vital organs and knew everything was in place.

It was all up to him.

There was no drift.

Never.

There was always a plan

to use everything that was John,

to do everything that had to be done.

What appeared to be fear

must have been a lightness in his chest

that lifted his heart

and made a springboard for his courage.

Now, everyday he looks death in the eye.

He spits on it.

He’s like my father,

but tough in more ways.

Dad

Saturday, January 6th, 2007

I had written hundreds of poems about everything I could imagine,

but none about Dad.

Why, I thought, had I waited so long?

I remembered that as a child my talking, my language, my thoughts, and

finally, my writing had come from the women who taught me.

Women had filled my mind with words and images,

stories, poems and songs.

Poetry came from those roots.

Dad gave Kenny and me another kind of expression,

a quite one, having to do with character.

He was a man of good humor and a soft laugh.

He was really tough, but we remember mostly his gentleness.

He would let your go with him anywhere on earth

and make you feel comfortable about being there.

He never took the last of anything, not even a piece of bread.

He was not words or images.

He was backbone.

He was determination.

He was encouragement.

He was forgiving.

He was all of the things you can’t say and can’t imagine.

The Mission

Saturday, January 6th, 2007

First Baptist Christian Academy

Train Up a Child….printed on

the T-shirt worn by my 2 year old grandson.

On the back it says CCAC in permanent ink.

It was a loaner, not his.

It replaced the one he had spit on.

 

The school lasted for twenty-five years

until one day, after the new worship hall

was completed, the school was not needed.

The First Baptist Church needed more parking

It no longer needed to “Train Up a Child….”

My grandson still has his T-shirt, but the school is gone.

A Reflection On Global Warming

Saturday, January 6th, 2007

I saw the movie of Al Gore’s global warming slide show a few months ago.

It could be that the world will end in my lifetime.

It appears that T.S. Eliot was wrong. It will not end with a whimper.

I have been wrong too.

I thought it would explode and make a nice fireball and then wink into darkness.

Actually, George Carlin is probably right.

The world will go on for a very long time, but humans

and most of the other species will not continue.

The leadership of the world is so stupid and evil that it is almost impossible

not to rejoice that, at least, when it ends humans being will be rid of them too.

I asked my nine year old grandson, Dominic, what he thought of the movie.

He said he didn’t get it. It was just a movie, meaning it was not true.

I suppose that when we float away in the next Texas flood he’ll get it,

or maybe not.

It is very hard to make a government that is really not of the people

do anything for the whole of the people. I’m a white man of the educated class

with all of the privileges of wealth even thought I’ve not kept any money.

I am among the dumb, blind and lucky.

I’m surprised that the people who have nothing don’t just murder me on sight.

That may be the only thing that gives me hope –

people don’t kill each other over class and money every time they get a chance to do it.

It’s the invisible hand of God, isn’t it?