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 May 2018
John Stevens
He was a young lad and in the fourth grade
Struggling hard for the grades he made.
Everything he tried seemed to vanish in the air
For he could not read and there was no one to care.

The teacher made fun of the young boy’s plight
No compassion, understanding, was ever in sight.
The days were filled with doubt and fear
He was told to repeat grade four next year.

Starting the fourth the second time around
A new school, a new teacher, made his heart pound.
For the world to see, on the card it came
The very first day he had to spell his name.

J - E - E - R - Y came out of the pen
The letters did appear to be correct just then.
The teacher bent close and whispered in his ear
“One E and two R’s, I think you meant dear.”

He fell in love with the teacher that day
She knew his heart and just what to say.
She knew the pain that the young boy felt
And all the embarrassment the past year dealt.

Miss Hagness, the angel, had come to his aid
He sensed her love and was no longer afraid.
Like the gentle Shepherd, reaching down from above
She taught him to read by her affection and love.

He went on to college to prepare for a life
Giving to help others with trouble and strife.
Pastor Jerry’s the Shepherd of many a heart
With love and compassion from the fourth grade did start.

Teacher­ Part II
The story told in verse is about my pastor. It is about the struggles of a lad who was ridiculed in school because of a reading disorder called dyslexia. It is about how the system would have let him sink into oblivion but for the personal interest of a young teacher who came into his life the second time he went through the fourth grade. A teacher who had compassion in her heart for the boy and helped him discover the talents that lay hidden deeply within him. The talents that allowed God to develop within him, developed a compassion for others and a giving of himself first as a youth pastor for many years and then for the first time as a senior pastor.

It is also a story of how indifference toward others can lead to destruction of a young mind to the point of total loss of self worth. It is about the deep wounds that can be inflected by the harsh words we speak. Such words can never be retrieved from the abyss of time. How many times do we fail to see or ignore what we see because it does not conveniently fit into our schedule and in the process, contribute in the destruction of a life?

If we are teachers, mentors, leaders, or just breathing, we can share the pain of others to ease their burdens and encourage them in the difficult times. As we share the pain of others, we gain the right to share the joy in their triumphs and successes.

The story came from a message delivered on Sunday morning May 1, 1999. The poem wrote itself from the words spoken in that message. Can we do anything less than what the young teacher did for the boy? As God leads us, let us listen to the still small voice. The voice may be the voice of a child pleading for help, the voice of our Father directing each of us in the path we must travel. Be ever aware of the opportunities that God lays in our path. Maybe just doing only what is required and not seeing beyond ourselves we miss seeing the potential of a young mind. Could this be the greatest disservice we could do to our Father?

Oh God, give me the wisdom to see the promise and potential in others and be led by Your hand in molding the young mind.

It is written, “Though you have done it unto the least of these, you have done it unto me.”
© May 1, 1999
John L. Stevens
 May 2018
John Stevens
(c) Dec. 15-2005 John Stevens

When trouble comes around you
And you don’t know where to turn.
Look up and see Jesus standing there.
He will take all your sorrows
And give you peace within.
Just look up and see Jesus standing there.

When love seems so distant
And you feel lost and alone.
Look up and find Jesus waiting there.
His arms are open wide for you
To take you as His own.
Just look up and find Jesus waiting there.

When hope has all but gone
And darkness closes in.
Look up and find Jesus kneeling there.
He is reaching down to lift you up
From the pit of despair.
Look up and find Jesus kneeling there.

When joy comes upon you
And you don’t know who to thank.
Look up and see Jesus smiling there.
His grace does surround you
His mercy brings you through.
Just look up and see Jesus waiting there.

Look up and see Jesus
He waits for you to call His name.
Look up and see Jesus standing there.
Look up and see Jesus
Receive His gift of love for you.
Look up and see Jesus standing there.

He will take you in His arms of love
And give you peace within.
I am posting this for a young friend.  It is the words to a song from years back.
Still good today and tomorrow
 Feb 2018
Paddy Martin
Through the shattered pane,
of a broken window,
I look out and see a fragment,
of a day that was, but is torn.

A flower growing without a name,
in the ever shifting garden,
of my minds vague mirage,
it's petals crumbling into dust.

The image of what was,
now drifting in the lake of time,
the ripples distorting it's features,
as it disappears beneath a lily pad.

Clouds racing across a blue sky,
searching in vain for the sunset,
weeping for that which they have not found,
As I retreat to hide within the spiders web

4th January 2011
 Dec 2017
John Stevens
Sometimes when I fall
Into a pit of despair.
When the dark clouds roll
You are always there.

I offer a finger
and get Your hand.
To lift me up
to solid land.

Sometimes. Sometimes
I have no idea where I'm headed.
Directions of hope
Or some place most dreaded.  

But always. Always
I feel Your hand holding me.
Lifting me up to a new day
Standing. Where I need to be.

I would be lost with
More than I could bear
But You Oh Father.
You are Always There.
(C) 08-15-2017
 Dec 2017
John Stevens
I think that I shall never see
A leaf as lovely without a tree
When it falls upon the ground
So gently placed to be found.
A child gathers it in her hands
Carefully places it on the sands
Hoping to grow a brand new tree
For all the world new life to see.
The last four lines had many interruptions (5 year old). Changed direction at least three times. Could not remember where it was going. The child was driving this one.
 Nov 2017
i stand, rotting
a small wooden structure in a large city
barren and empty
one window, a single pane of glass

surrounded by skyscrapers
tall and terrifying
yet they too,
they too are rotting
windows smashed,
cavernous corridors tainted by crude slogans,

my small frame is fragile,
a foundation that is questionable,
my walls are depending on these skyscrapers
willing them to stay tall and terrifying
yet they are crumbling at the edges,
the debris beginning to become almost too heavy on my roof.
an ode to my friends and the people surrounding me. everyone is not always as they seem
 Sep 2017
A moment cuffs you in the face
like Newton's overstated apple,
and the evening dissolves
into sharp, steady resolve...
You think about the extra drink you should have drunk,
the song you should have sung
and the man whose touch y so missed...

The Muse had disappeared.
**** Muse.

Every time you try to find news you want to *****,
not just a little, but expel the very core of emptiness out of you,
and you picked a fine time to stop swearing
because there is a man whose feel you have so **** missed...

The stars continue to twinkle across the Northern Sky,  
oblivious to the bouncing of our big Blue Ball,
un-answering dreamful wishes;
though, there are other stars lying closer to your heart,
a fresh start and the barbells below...  
And you realize
life is found in the letting go...

And the Muse reappears, smiles an aching, wondrous, Hello.
 Sep 2017
mother, mother, mother,
you give and you give
and still there is not enough,
never enough for the fools who walk
in eternal damnation with only
fire extinguishing the desire
that drips, long and thick from their lips

your pulse it slows, and still you
feed us and hold us and lift us up
to safety while the wolves steal
your ribs one at a time, your lungs
collapsing in on themselves as
your last gasping breath provides
the push we needed to escape

oh mother, you're trembling now,
but your warmth matters not to
the vultures who peel your skin
off slowly to make coats from
the softness that surrounds you -
what do they need coats for?
they know not the difference
between desire and need, and
their beaks are sharp, so, why not?

strand by strand they steal your
beautiful hair and weave crowns
for the men who wish they knew
for a moment how to create, but
alas, they'll never know the beauty
of birthing something like you do,
the way it feels to grow life
day by day deep within your womb

mother, i can see it now, in your
hollowed cheeks and raspy voice,
the way your bones are barely
bound in flesh, your movements
are shaky and your eyesight it fades,
and the one who once loved you
no longer cares to show you the way

with each night that passes his light
shifts to shine upon the sharks that
have come because of the blood,
your blood -  he thinks that the fish
that follow will feed him too, but
they are only symbiotic pieces of the
same murderous school that will
tear him limb from limb when
they are finished with you

mother, he'll never understand,
the hunger that he feels is not
to be fed, for the minute it tastes
the flesh it will hunger until it
eats him too and there is no relief,
no reprieve, no release, no,
there is only certain loss and death

but you, mother, you will return
and wrap your arms around your
fallen children and weep until the
ground is saturated with your love,
until the shuddering of breath begins,
until your heart beat stirs us back
into living, only to ****** again
 Aug 2017
Larry Ross
She walks in beauty like the night
     moonlight shadows and starry skies.
A soul of wonder beauty and light
     all reflected in her smile and eyes.

The calling song of summer moonlight
    all soft and still it steeps the air.
Approaches the solemn hour of midnight
    breathes sweet thoughts everywhere.

There below the trees and wild bowers
    soft light o’er her glowing face.
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
    all witness to her nameless grace.

So soft so calm with tints that glow
    tell of her days as a goddess spent.
On her cheek and o’er her brow
    kisses sublime from a heart innocent.
 Jul 2017
Part I.  Like Gods Falling

At first—
new trembling
and then she didn’t want
to be—


with guilt

or seen

as **** half-eaten evidence
So she held it out to him
with her half-hearted, “It's OK.”
her crippling distance

“Why doesn’t she just embrace me
as before?”
He thought
that he had never seen her eyes that way—
with no words for their ruin
he loved her fearfully more

Gorged in the aftermath of forbidden
fat and animal fruit
Sick with excuses
Staring at
the core of lust
Food?  Beauty? Intrigue?


Searing awful terror
into each other’s minds

Part II.  Love and War

In the years between
the harrowed rows of sprouting corn
they found pleasure without plan
that bound them more than guilt had severed

How curious the textures of a man
in sunlight

her power?
In all the brilliance she had bargained for

How curious this burning for her
in the sodden life of rotting

She was always holding him now
from the scorching day
as the earth sizzled and swam
in seas of senseless—
background drone of locust and revenge
sealed in sweat and clutching labor

She was always holding him back by night
from the icy crackling mad!
his restless hunting hate!
And sometimes, while she pleaded
he would seize her
Make her pay!

For that afternoon

by the well where the boy was washing
A basket of vegetables returned
a bowl of blood

Part III.  Grief

Prepare the darling carcass
Shroud it in her pleas
clawing in the mud beside its silence
consumed beyond all fire by her anguish
“Can this not be enough to make him move?
Yes! He did! I’m sure I saw it!”
Can this not be enough?”
to stop the knowing…
grief from pouring into space?

Not even light escapes

Returning from the Mount of Meeting
hollow chores
collecting fatwood
grinding joyless grain

From corner of her eye
she watches the boy
walk toward the forest
spear in hand
She pauses
looking down
at hands on stone
that once had cradled...
Breath catching on jagged sorrow

She continues to grind

bitterly pregnant

Part IV.  Endings

Descended now
Reclining heap
reflects before a sun’s surrender
His face gleams with last light
hair blown back by volleys of wind

Her face
Not visible
as we are behind them
Her head rests in his lap
She is on her side
Soles of her shoes
mute and toward us
His eyes search the sky for a god—any god!
Her God

Exhaustion poses them past
the point of question
When the matter of “Why?”
becomes each other

Close in

the net of twilight
Dulled of hope and pain
at the edge of all that can be done...

...everything is gray going on black—
but we always knew that
My take on an old story that reverberates through all time.  She sinned-- to know the mind of God.
He sinned because he loved her.
 Jun 2017
John Stevens
This has been on my mind for some time... To share this comment to a poem I posted on the ALZ site. I don't know her name. It has made a deep impact on my heart.

The poem is:

Dec 17, 1013

w/e wrote:
Your words are beyond words. Thank you. We've had a rough week. Stage 6 is beginning with all its fury: incontinence, hallucinations, delusions, and, of course, mood changes from happy - to sad  - to angry in the flick of a nano second.  BUT, in spite of the dark clouds of his mind, we still have beautiful moments of tenderness & love. He was eating tonight and I could see on his face the darkness creeping into his brain. He left the table and began to pace. He went to the bedroom and would not let me touch him, comfort him.  When he finally calmed down an hour later, the darkness of his mind began to dissipate. He came to the kitchen and  he said to me: "I am afraid, I am scared." "What is scaring you?" I asked. He replied, " I wont remember who you are." My husband has lost a tremendous amount of his ability to speak so my heart began to dance  with joy when I heard him say those beautiful words of LOVE. I hugged him, I kissed him, I held his hand. I was in awe of his love for me.  I said, "My dear husband, I will help you touch me, I will help you caress me , I will help you feel your love for me. I will help you remember me." We embraced and we cried together... feeling a lifetime of love for each other... Peace & calm  restored, he is sleeping now.
I had brought the poem to the top and she commented again. Such beautiful words of love.
Jan 8, 2016

IdahoStevens, my reply to you was written on December 2013... My immortal beloved took his last breath on January 2014... Immortal beloved. Noble. Strong. Sensual. Pure. My Sunrise Ruby. Bright crystal structure of endless love. Perfect and Imperfect.

O  fateful morning!  I was preparing breakfast. He was walking between the bedroom and the bathroom... Desperately searching...  Searching for me... He knew intuitively his life was ending... I ran to him...We looked into each others eyes... I cradled him in the deep of my arms... I said, "My love, I am here. I will never leave you." ... He smiled ... He stopped breathing. I called 911... My heart encircled in his love. My mind enriched by cherished memories. My soul transformed... His scent inside of me. My body burning with desire... To love. To be loved... My body flying with his. From this earth to the center of the universe. Glowing.

O earth's reality! It bites...

I am adjusting... Adjusting to the deafening silence of the day. And of the night.

I am adapting... Adapting to the absence of his kisses. And his embrace.

I am accepting... I am trying, with every breath I take, to accept.  To accept his empty place in my nest. And on this earth.

To adjust. To adapt. To accept.

To transcend... Life and Death ... We enter this world. We leave this world ... When I understand that. When I totally accept that. I shall find peace.

No sluggish hearts will ever be found in our midst, eh?... We have lots of heart muscle in Alzconnected. Muscle memories... Of tenderness. Of love. And of care.

Good to see you, IdahoStevens.


Another comment left


If it's possible to cry and smile at the same time, that's what I did while reading your poem.  I read with my mom and dad in mind and it captures so perfectly their life together.  They did indeed go for ice cream all the time, a favorite treat for both.  Particularly poignant were the lines surrounding the holidays, my parents did their tree together, they even had their own tree when my husband, youngest son, I and my parents both sold our homes and bought a larger home to all live together, because we enjoyed being together so much.  Every Christmas Eve my dad put some of the presents together - bikes, chalkboards, etc and my mom wrapped them, then they put them under tree together.  The holidays were truly a special time of year for my parents.  Your lines brought all that back in vivid color and I read with tears in my eyes and a smile while remembering.

My mom and I talked on the phone almost every day, we went shopping, to lunch, sat and watched tv together almost every night.  We all sat down and talked all the time, it truly was a wonderful time when we were all together.

My beloved father passed away three years ago, and the last thing I whispered in his ear moments before he left us was that we would take of mom and to not worry, we would be fine.  Now I struggle with the fact that we had to place my mom in an ALF because we were just not able to keep her safe at home.

And now, I walk through our home, and see both my parents in every room.  I can even hear my dad calling me to help him with a computer issue, I can hear my mom call out to me that she can't figure out the remote.  In my mind, my dad sits at the kitchen table every evening and drinks his coffee.

Your poem brought back many beautiful memories thank you for that.


Here is the poem.
John Stevens
Jun 27, 2010
Remember for Me

When the curtain draws closed on my mind
And leaves my body alone.
Think of the times we were together,
The times we talked on the phone.
Remember the times we would walk on the beach.
Hand in hand always in reach.
The moments we shared - together each day.
The love we shared in every way.

Though the hours get long that make up a day.
While you are sitting with me in your caring way.
Remember the times we would take a long walk.
We would get an ice cream, just sit and talk.
Remember. Remember for me.
Remember the seasons of flowers in bloom.
We’d walk through the meadow, nature’s room.
We’d hunt down asparagus along a fence row.
Bring home a bunch and fix it just so.

Remember at Christmas the lights on the tree.
The gifts for the children from you and me.
The smells of the season that filled the air.
The laughter and joy of people who care.
Remember. Remember for me.
Remember the moments our thoughts would blend.
No spoken word between us would send.
The thoughts of love and things to be.
Would cross the distance ‘tween you and me.

Tell me over and over again,
Of the things we use to do and when,
Times of laughter and times of fun
We had together, under the sun.
Remember. Remember for me.
When the curtain draws closed on my mind.
And leaves my body alone.
Think of the times we were together,
The times we talked on the phone.

As yesterday’s memories caress your soul.
Close your eyes, imagine us whole.
Where some day we will be together again
Where memories won’t fade, we will again begin.
Remember. Remember for me.

Please see a friend of mine's web page honoring his wife who died of ALZ

© (4-20-03) John L. Stevens
Support ALZ   Many people die of this horrible disease.

Also visit a friend of mines web page.
Visit June's Website:
 Dec 2016
John Stevens
As you travel this road
looking to find
Someone in need of love.
Whose broken spirit
in need of repair
By the Love given Above.

It might be someone
whose given up hope
And is found in deep despair.
With all hope gone
no place to turn
no shoes or clothes to wear.

The drug once chosen
For what ever the reason
Has taken them to the ground.
They need a hand
To help them up
Out of the hole they are found.

You see the pain
deep within
Caused by someones lust
No way to cope
to overcome
For they have lost their trust.

A kind word here
A smile there
Can help fill the hole.
When hope was lost
By careless words
And actions took their tole.

As I travel this road
Hoping to find
A soul in need of love
May directions come
To me this hour
From Love given Above.
 Sep 2016
Even though I can't help you all, I know God will.
He has been there for me when I needed Him the most.
His love will fix your broken spirit; it takes time I know.
You might be waiting a long time before He steps in and helps.
You may wander and fall, but God is there.
Reach out for Him, feel His love and warmth.
He is there I promise, He is there for everyone.
Sick, old, young, blind, deaf. it doesn't matter, He is there for you.
He loves you.
I thought I would try something new, I needed to write something like this. John Stevens, inspired this one by showing me one of his poems.
I have struggled with believing in God, I have struggled and I didn't think God was there for me. I'm not exactly sure if he really is. But I hope everyone enjoys this piece and I hope who ever has lost there faith, finds a way to become close to there faith again. Please tell me what you think and I hope everyone is having a good day.
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