Stained with minerals
leeching through the ages,
red rock still stands.
Stained with tears
flowing through my years,
my soul goes on.
26 July 2001
Colorado National Monument
Fruita, CO
Category Archives: Poem
Flight 97 to Anchorage has been delayed
Haunted by your absence
I stand,
shifting weight from foot to foot.
As backpack straps dig into my shoulder,
I gaze at people scurrying by,
on their journeys from here to there.
At times my eyes fix upon a stranger,
and as her face blurs before me,
for an instant,
only for an instant,
you, who are I know not where,
are with me.
2003
Seattle-Tacoma International Airport
Seattle-Tacoma International Airport
Filed under Poem
Seen and unseen
Some walls we see,
some walls we don’t.
Some walls we build,
stack brick by brick,
lay stone on stone,
I-beam, concrete,
reinforced steel,
and string with care
across the top:
concertina.
Some walls we build
on lines unreal,
yet drawn on maps;
artificial divides:
this part is ours –
this part, not yours;
belonging marked
with spikes of steel.
Some walls we build
seeking safety,
striving to find
security
through what we touch:
height, depth, and strength
topped by razors
on coils of steel.
Some walls we build
to know who’s in
and who is out,
to show who has
and who has not:
divisions made
and then enforced
through wire with barbs.
Some walls we build
on lines that lie
within ourselves:
gender, class, creed,
nation, sex, race;
diversity
judged and measured
by devil’s rope
Some walls we see,
some walls we don’t.Inspiration for this poem came from the reflection Unveiling the Barbed Wire Divide by Theresa Cho.
30 May 2011
New York, New York
Walls
Some walls we see;
some walls we don’t.
Some divide places;
some fragment our hearts.
30 May 2011
New York, New York
Filed under Poem
Comfort
Seat 36-G reclines,
invades “my” space,
smacks my chin,
annoys at first,
then slowly,
hauntingly,
embarrassingly,
calls to mind
how deeply my comfort
depends on discomforting others.
11 May 2011
Swiss International Air Lines 022
Filed under Poem
Tomato
Tomato,
though juice or soup or exactly what type,
I could not tell,
must have caused the large red stain
on the back of his shirt.
How it got there, I cannot guess.
Nor do I choose to imagined
what might have caused
the crusted stains
that covered
the sweat pants
sagging below his waist,
revealing his buttocks.
I avert my gaze
and plod on.
Slowly as I walk,
he shuffles even more slowly up the ramp toward forty-deuce.
But as I pass him,
it’s like a neon light appears –
words flashing over and over:
some mother’s child
some mother’s child
some mother’s child.
At the station door, I turn,
face him,
smile.
Making eye contact for a moment,
he nods.
Observed in Grand Central Station
May 2011
Written
11 May 2011
Swiss International Air Lines 022
Filed under Poem
Regret
Too late I rose.
Too soon you left.
Farewell forever hangs
unsaid
between us.
11 May 2011
Swiss International Airlines Flight 022
Filed under Poem
Hearts
Is it any wonder we
so often die
of heart attacks;
when
so often life
stomps
tugs
breaks
our hearts?
11 May 2011
Swiss International Airlines Flight 022
Inspired by any one of a number of news stories involving the killing or violation of God’s precious children or similar events that do not make the news. Such tragedies happen every day.
Filed under Poem
C-16, GVA
Walking down the jetway,
the long, long jetway,
that led, not to Tipperary,
but to Gate C-16, GVA,
I watched my fellow travelers
and I noticed –
could not help but notice –
colorful bags, clutched with care,
clearly filled with souvenirs,
reminders of what was done and
memories of what had happened
while in Switzerland.
Sometimes I wondered what they carried;
sometimes I knew;
and sometimes, even knowing, I still pondered:
how much more nearly Geneva
would I remember,
how much more clearly events and experiences
would I call to mind,
how much more dearly images of friends
would fill my heart,
had I but been wise enough
to purchase
M&M’s.
11 May 2011
Boarding Swiss International Airlines Flight 022
in Geneva
And in the end
And in the end
God gives a song.
When death has come,
and pain aches deep,
it’s all we have,
it is enough.
For in the end,
God gives a song.
And in the end,
God gives us hope.
When all seems lost,
despair runs high,
it’s all we have,
it is enough,
For in the end,
God gives us hope.
And in the end,
God gives us love,
when hate reigns strong,
when fear looms large,
it’s all we have,
it is enough.
For in the end,
God gives us love.
And in the end,
God gives justice.
When systems wound,
exclude, exploit,
it’s all we have,
it is enough.
For in the end,
God gives justice.
And in the end,
God gives us peace,
when wars rage hot,
violence strikes,
it’s all we have,
it is enough.
For in the end,
God gives us peace.
And in the end,
God gives us Christ,
when all is done,
and all is said,
Christ’s all we have,
Christ is enough.
Give thanks to God,
God gives us Christ.
25 May 2011
Jet Blue 868
KIN – JFK
Filed under Poem
Along the Graybeard Trail 