Category: Poems

The day my parents named me

This poem is the third in a group, one which followed the poem-in-the-mind-of-the-creator, and now this.

The line from At Home with the Homeless was “Can people see the truth as my parents did the day they named me?” It inspired this one. Both references though are to the people I work with. I learn their names and hear the beauty and the tradition that must have been theirs, and their parents on that day. I often wonder about how things were for them then.

I had a great friend, Gary Kerr, who was one of the very best CPS social workers I ever met. In CPS work we often dealt with conflicts between adolescents and their parents which were somewhat intractable. Gary used to re-frame the issues by asking the parents to recall that day, when the child was so small, when they gave them their name. He asked the parents to recall their hopes and dreams from that time; and bring it into the solutions for the conflict. So a bit of this sentiment is influencing this too, now 20 years after I learned this way to help parents.

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On the beautiful glorious day my parents named me
They only looked forward and believed my future was bright.
Anticipation exploded into celebration.

Becoming, in each day, someone who would come to be
Less, then more, then less, living happenstance of passing night.
And each change brought in the experience of temptation.

Somehow changed and formed in unexpected trajectory.
For the times I struggled and succeeded and did what was right
If someone noticed, then sometimes cheers and acclamation.

At other times, through life’s din, I ended up on my knees;
Bent, broken, spitting out the dirt and cursing at my plight.
Burdened down hopelessly by stagnation or starvation.

I can’t help recall on the day my parents brought me here
All was well and complete, if they kissed me and held me tight.
Just this simple thing was a magnificent sensation.

Family providing encouragement and hope, not fear;
Made my young life whole, like glimmering in potential light.
All that could be was powerful, full of fascination.

Did they know of the awful forces that brought on the tear?
How daily grind, or setbacks, find the weaknesses so slight
All the hope and joy shaken, each day a trepidation.

Thus arriving here, staggering regretfully my fate did veer
To struggles large or small, that could sap any fragile might,
Given over to delusions brought by deprivation.

Can the lessons learned let me into better future peer?
And truth derived or wisdom burned into my soul each night
Become what my parents named me to be, thus into my salvation?
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 05/24/14/

May 24, 2014
Wood of life

Wood of life in a chapel
Where for over a hundred years people came daily to pray
A blessed place where baptisms were celebrated
And the end of life symbolized a return to the almighty
Should I pray here, or, anywhere the Spirit moves?
Oh, Creator, wherever you are, wherever you have gone
Can you tell me if the people from across the ocean to the west,
And those who joined them from the north
Found any solace in these walls of redwood.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 05/04/14

May 7, 2014
Petrified Forest, Sonoma County, California, Earth

Being in a place looking at the ground
Where three and a half million years ago trees were blown down.
Forces in the earth reached up to the sky
Sending shock waves and ashes so mighty trees would lie.
Then resting under the ashy ground
Water seeped until trees it found
Changed were the trees, no longer of wood
Silica seeped in and for ages it stood.

If life changes to stone when left all alone
Do memories turn to magic and sorrows once so tragic
Become the stuff of wisdom and grace
Passed through generations each in their time and place?
Vague beliefs come from ancestors buried long ago
Like trees made of wood in sunlight they grow.
Then history and mystery morph underneath
Into truths now eternal and solid beliefs.

Changed by earth’s power we can reflect on this hour.
Our mothers and fathers walked earth of their time
Finding forests and seas and mountains to climb,
With some even knowing when their days they were done
The only thing they left was their daughter and son.
Passing knowledge like water to become wisdom like stone
Hardening certainty of the truths to be known.
That good and evil are recognized in the fruits of their labor
And striving to be better was what each life or day was meant for
As descendants of descendants we dig the earth to find
A solid heritage formed like stone; we were meant to be kind.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 04/26/14

April 27, 2014
A couple coded poems

Each of these poems has a secret.
Can you tell me what they hide in plain sight?

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Our door – September 16, 2005

Our door
Our door

A new day pushed the musings of morning slowly aside.
Restful moments between sleep and awakening, give way to
Driving through the mists of the unknown.
On arriving at the clear skies of the high desert, rain soaked and cool, dreams persist, and dreams cast about to and fro
Roaming from dawn to long after dusk away from our door – Too long

A wisp of an idea draws one away
Reality pushes unexpected plans
Dreams are discussed
Openly
Reflectively

A full broad expanse of spaces and distance
A journey to check on a possibility
A possibility that blew away with lack of warmth
A space that wasn’t big enough – so the distance was recouped
Back to our door

A deep bond of ideas draws one back
Reality is what we have made together
Dreams are discovered and lived
Our door at the beginning
Returning to our door at the end.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 09/16/2005

Annual Poem

just in time the winter’s here
frigid days when nights are clear
making storms chill through the bone
a shift can happen as orbit flown
maybe buds begin to flower
june bugs buzzing in daylight hours
joy in heat and sweat and life
august signs of the circle’s strife
showing completion as days crawl
one by one like leaves that fall
new and old beginning as if “amen”
descending into cold to begin again

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 04/18/2014

April 19, 2014
pictures waiting for a poem

April 9, 2014
My first poem about baseball and beer

Barley and hops and water
Melded, stirred, procured
A bit of flavor for one to savor
Watching the ball fly to the base
Before some guy puts it into space
Run across the field with a bound
Make it stop before it hits the ground
Toast those guys, give em’ a slap on the back
Before that bat gives another crack
All fueled by barley and hops and water

April 6, 2014
At home with the homeless

“There is such a level of unspeakable contempt from the haves in society bestowing shame in the homeless. Homelessness stirs up fear: frightens and saddens us at the same time. Judgments are as harsh as the plight itself. Homelessness conjures up thoughts of isolation. Call it what it is: injustice, racism and a harsh reality. Often the most vulnerable suffer the most, including children, teens, single mothers, elderly and the ill.”
Response by a friend

“May we never get used to the poverty and decay around us.
A Christian must act.”
Pope Francis @Pontifex 04/03/14

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In the evening of April 3, 2014 I spent some time with Homeless Action! colleagues Adrienne Lauby, Jen Parr, Karen Martin and Adam Kirshenbaum. They inspired me, and confirmed that this is a noble effort worth pursuing. I went home and this is the poem which ensued.

These are my people.
Not in any sense that I lead them,
Or they belong to me.
These are the people I belong with.
These are the people I align with.

I find their lives and their experiences
To be compelling and important.
I find their value as human beings
On a par with the Pope and me;
To be of equal value, of equal worth, and of equal dignity.
I am no better than they are,
And they are no better than me.

There’s a famous prayer attributed to St. Francis.
The prayer was actually submitted anonymously.
Does that mean that a homeless God might have submitted it?

Make me an instrument of Your peace,
To be among those who need some peace.

If there is hatred, and sadness, and regret
As I sit on a cold doorstep,
Where can I sow love?

If I have done injury
And have injured those I love the most
Where is there pardon?
The truth of my life, lived in the bushes
Is the error.
Can people see the truth
As my parents did the day they named me?

I have so many doubts.
I have so little faith.
Where is faith and hope?
It is here, in me.
If I could only see.

In my despair,
The hope
Is in the intrinsic value of me
Where I rest in darkness,
And cold,
And damp clothes
That make me shiver.
Is there faith in awaiting the light?
Are there leaders
And people who pull the levers of power
Who can act on my despair
To give me some light?

And in the depths of sadness,
From where I am now,
Yes, I know joy.
In the kindness of strangers
Who may not know
They have saved my life,
My hope,
My faith in humanity’s inherent goodness

O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console.
On the streets
I am at one with my homeless brethren

To be understood as to understand;
I understand my sisters’ plight.

To be loved as to love.
I love without words in the grace of each moment.

For it is in giving that we receive.
As giving from the heart and the meager means
Is the true gift.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.
As I hope to be pardoned by all those to whom
My mental illness
And use of altering substances
Or ordinary human frustrations
Have caused me to offend.

Even as I too have been offended
And then have pardoned,
Because that is the thing to do.

And it is in dying
That we are born to eternal life.
It is not the dying in physical death.
It is the dying of selfishness and self centeredness.
That is the death we should desire

This is where I belong;
Among those without a residence.
To bring the realization
That first, and foremost,
And always,
A just society gives a roof
And warmth
And a daily resting place to each person
No matter what.

April 4, 2014
This was a moment

I was driving home from work today
When I noticed the beautiful green trees of spring
At that moment I realized I was driving on the spot
Where one of the happiest moments of my life had occurred
Many years ago I drove this same road
On the way to see my first son be born
And tears of joy stream down my face

I thought of how nervous my wife had been
I thought of how excited my anticipation was
This was a moment,
this was a moment so fresh to my mind
As if it just happened
Right here and right now

And I flashed to other moments
I could see the day our third son was born
I could see his two big brothers
with their faces pressed up against the glass
To see their new brother
I could see it
As if it just happened

And then came the memory,
Of our middle son laughing and smiling with his mother
As we watched his younger brother
Play in the middle school band
with professional performers leading them (Dallas Brass)

All these moments
And the moments more
Arrived in that instant
And tears of joy stream down my face

April 2, 2014
Miracles ever

Miracles ever
God does what he wants anyway
Praying for the best

[acknowledgement to Iris Dement]
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Perfect harmony
Weight of a cat on a lap
Contentment right now

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 03/22/14

March 28, 2014
Brings the deity

Blessings can be derived
from pain.
But that does not mean
the experiences of pain
caused the blessings.
Without the pain,
the blessings
and understandings
may have been different.

Although prayers to a deity
may be specific
And they may be followed
by an action or event
It is not to say the prayers
caused the deity
to give a response of action.

God’s existence,
and our dependence
on His benevolence,
Does not mean
He acts in lives
as we imagine.

How has it been shown
that the desire for our own,
or our loved ones’, well being
Brings the deity
to attend to us?

The force of goodness
and creation
which we think of
as God
Is either an enormous ego
which requires us
To believe
all glory and honor to Thee,
Oh mighty One,

or,

On the other hand,
The Creator
may have made creation
to be a good in
and of itself
To evolve
and grow
and die
through mighty natural forces.

If there is human will
and power
Then the power is subject to the rules
of nature the Creator set in motion,

Or not.

If we think
we are not subject
to the rules of nature
Then nature ultimately
comes around
exhibiting our folly.

If the Creator created nature,
and Man in it,
to glorify the Creator’s
Own being
Then there must be
some purpose
which impels Man
and all creatures
To impact on their own destiny
in the realm of nature
the Creator created.

With this comes
decisions and free will,
The will we may have
is manifest in how
we choose to respond
to each circumstance

Or not.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 03/12/14

March 12, 2014