I talk you talk we'll talk


February 2016



I have a Hebrew
Book; it is

I don’t know Hebrew
(I, feeling like a fool,
A few words translated,

Such as ruah
The wind,

The breath
Out of which
Our God

As I say,

“America Great Again”

(in wake of USA candidate debates)


“America Great Again”

Presumes, first, that America
Was great; second, that
America is not great now;

Third, that the way to save
America is retro-work—to
Move back

Americans (from both
Continents) were majestically
Successful in overturning

At deadly, awful, perilous
Cost the evil that was Nazi
Warring by crazed leadership

America (USA) is great with
Wealth and resources,
Though deserves skeptic

Observation in generosity
And evened opportunity;
and while one can appreciate

What are traditional, even
Foundational, values, the
Way ahead is not behind

Returning to the basics
Doesn’t work—though we
Can move forward to the

Basics, crafting and cementing,
Dreaming and creating these
Anew—this way makes USA

Great for a new time, which
Now is a smarter reason to
Elect then, wisely, move forward

If Only, If Only

If Only, If Only

if only, if only
the stars weren’t so lonely

with great space between
tell me, what does it mean

might we now in time
be closer than rhyme


inspired by Annie at What the Woman Wrote
and Louis Sachar in Holes
(Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1998)

My Own Valentine (prose poem)

My Own Valentine
(prose poem)

My own little Valentine celebration. I guess we celebrate feast days, though these are the days in which the saints have died. Martyrdom—we celebrate? Well, I bought little round pink plates with small square napkins to match. I am drinking coffee with little croissants on one of those pink plates, dabbing with a small square napkin. Watching the pope visit Mexico.

Where is love? Is it there? Is it here? Is it intertwined through both places and all other places? And the people? Are we bound in red silken ties of love? Free to move yet tied so that, when we might fall, others are there gently (remember, silk) to pull us up and on.


Goodness, the president of Mexico is good-looking. He speaks of “a better community” (translated), “a better society.” A better world, I imagine. Why not? Here’s a chance to speak of objectives and ideals in a country toward which too many look askance.


The Word, the Life for Love

The Word, the Life for Love
(14 February 2016)

Valentine gave his life for love
Christ gave it back

Messages of faith sent with
New ones returned
Sacrifice and service
Hearing and listening

Even when afraid

What may I do you for to say
I love you on Valentine’s

In a way that you might
Hear because I’ve borne
The word to give
To you now

Even in new ways

A gift that has no investment
No interest to accrue
Beyond selfless satisfaction
That you might love me
In return

Endure Oregon Protest

Endure Oregon Protest

They are still in Oregon.
The protest goes and has
Closed in. A leader, Cliven
Bundy, was arrested.

“Cliven” could be a past-
participle word for
“Cleave” (I don’t know
that it was)—an odd word

cleave: on its own, it would
seem to mean to cut into
two, yet it is the word used
for bonding in marriage

talk. Maybe the ideas is
that in marrying we slice
ourselves off one plant
and in a cleaved (or cliven)

state are grafted to another.
From both parts, then, new
growth is hybrid-formed—
and was such unity made

made here? Since one last
leader was taken, it would
not seem so; disunity, like
bad harmony, sounds from

final voices that endured.
Not to say that protest by
occupying and with guns
is a better way, for it is not.

But someone should really
hear what they have to say—
I’m not partisan in this
for feeling for both sides.

I simply wish equality imbued.
Everyone should be heard.
Everybody gets a turn. Not
A game—but how we should

have it. All the same.

Almost Always, Haiku

Almost Always, Haiku

In spring love might turn
If you’re there to plant with me
Almost and always

Happy Tails, Happy Trails

Happy Tails, Happy Trails

I grew up with cats, with
Dogs, partly with a horse
(an entire horse), some
Guinea pigs, I think, and
Fish I could not relate to

There was a rabbit (maybe
Two rabbits—you know
How they are), a rescued

I met a big snake one time
At a program with a guide;
I enjoyed petting the snake

Feeling its muscles move
Beneath the skin

I enjoyed a staring contest
With a deer across the
Yard; actually, we were
Both walking the local
Cemetery and caught, as
If to trap, each other’s eyes

The things—Scripture’s
Creeping things—with tails
Are the ones I seem to
Do best with; I suppose I
Create a cheat out of
Belief and hope that the
Ones with tails and I are
Getting along

Well, what can I say? My
Wish (I don’t think Dale
Evans Rogers would mind)—

Happy tails, happy trails


this work is incited (that is, inspired in
an especially zealous way) in part by a
delightful blog and an extraordinary
group, Three Chatty Cats, celebrating
wondrously the rescue of cats

Gee, Emoji!

Gee, Emoji!

This cat is cool
And a gift from a friend
Who knew my cat, too,

The cat who trained me for
Nineteen years, and I never got
It right

Palindromic name, Hannah
A rescue on Hanover Street
Kitten alone, wandering into
Street traffic

I took her in, and she took

Such a fine companion,
As most cats who are left
In power to train us,
Truly are

The emoji makes me think
Of a cheer—maybe it’s the
Wry smile, maybe the sunshine

Gee, Emoji!
Gee, Gee, emoji!
Gee, emoji, you’re so fine,
Want to paste you all the time!
Graphic cool is what you are,
Any shape, you are a star!

Gee! Emoji!
Gee! Gee! Emoji!

We cheer
For our circular cats,
And we are cheered


my friend who sent me the cat
emoji keeps a Facebook place
called One Mom’s Mission
about the joy in having a child
with Down’s Syndrome; my
general ignorance in using
emojis was first ‘fessed to and
challenged in a friendly way by
Annie at What the Woman Wrote
(sorry, Annie, I still don’t know
how to use these things in
anything like an easy way)



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