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g clair Oct 2013
De las Casas records in stark numbers the genocide that took place under Columbus and the Spaniards, writing that when he first came to Hispaniola in 1508, "there were 60,000 people living on this island, including the Indians; so that from 1494 to 1508, over three million people had perished from war, slavery, and the mines. Who in future generations will believe this? I myself writing it as a knowledgeable eyewitness can hardly believe it...."[80]

Columbus and his brothers lingered in jail for six weeks before busy King Ferdinand ordered their release. Not long after, the king and queen summoned the Columbus brothers to the Alhambra palace in Granada. There the royal couple heard the brothers' pleas; restored their freedom and wealth; and, after much persuasion, agreed to fund Columbus's fourth voyage. But the door was firmly shut on Columbus's role as governor. Henceforth Nicolás de Ovando y Cáceres was to be the new governor of the West Indies
I read that CC became more 'religious' following his time in the pen and so on...he later demanded a share of the profits from earlier interests..."True religion is to care for orphans and widows", quoting Jesus Christ.
g clair Sep 2013
In my box, with rictus grin
they could not straighten with a pin~
I lay before my friends and folks
and seemed to smile at silent jokes~

and some did wonder, what was planned
but little could they understand
how I looked on from up above
and hovered over those I love~

it all went off without a hitch
the biker said I was a *****
and with that word, the motley crew,
they blocked the doors so none passed through~

They dimmed the lights, to set the mood
and turned the music down to 'brood'
and every guest then took a seat
and fanned the sweat of stinky feet.

The biker wiped his eyes, and said,
'It's very hard to see her dead,
but it should come as no surprise,
that Nagi, with her smiling eyes,

made this request of all her friends,
and here's the list, and there's some pens.
She'd like you all to listen, while
her written works are read 'in style'.

And if one title strikes a note
of relevance, is what she wrote,
then jot it down and pass it to
the one beside you in the pew.

and at the end of every row
stood someone with a basket though
it wasn't clear where this would go
my friends and family had to know

the basket filled to overflowing
you read the one you picked, not knowing
I was watching from on high
and busting out, my old laugh-cry

'Twas several hours that had passed
and people dying to be gassed
Could this one be the very last?
the final poem that Nagi cast?

The friends and folk of my rich past
applauded, it was done at last!
and headed for the open air,
and as they reached the doorway there~

a book was handed to each guest
My dying wish, you'd all be blessed,
and finally you would have, to own,
a coffee table book, a tome

And every poem I ever wrote
contained within the pages, note
the title, it was all my own
'The Forced Readings of
Nagi Ramone.'
g clair Nov 2013
While hearing a jingle
from somebody's Marmy
I bake on a warm parchment sheet
Cut out to be single
but one in an army
of gingerbread men I will meet.

Don't know if I care
that this life is so scary
or just that I fear saying so
and not that I know
but I hear that it's hairy
out there so I'm just laying low

For better, for worse, I can promise far better for me
if we all had no clue
a blessing or curse
I'm gingerbread,  Ma'am
and a hell of a good soldier too.

We're golden brown guys
with a raisins for eyes
at first glance,  not by chance,  like the others
but The Gingerbread Men of Company Ten
have a mission: to stand with our brothers.

I'll fight to the end,
for I am what I am
  and that's reason enough to defend
just give me my gun
don my uniform, hon
my baker, my maker, my friend.

You've had all your fun
when the mixing was done
with rolling and stamping my fate.
I live now to serve
and not to be served
a desert on a decorative plate.

I was mixed up before
but I've figured the score
from the moment I came from the oven
that you had a plan
for this gingerbread man,
not my fight but my plight you'd be lovin'.

So just give me a hand
kindly help me to stand
and salute all the men who have gone
into battle for this
a man's right to exist
and be more than a treat to chew on.

and in fact, if you will
I'd much rather still
to be the manning the front lines, I'm itchin'
to run 'cross your floor and head straight for the door
to release all my men from your kitchen!
g clair Jun 2014
dysfunction is the glue
which has me stuck, like you
in patterns from our youfh
disguising simple truth
our DNA maintains
the crazy in our brains
the way our families act
and cope with troubling fact
the stuff we choose to do
in which we have no clue
be sure  this fact is true:
dysfunction is the glue.
g clair Sep 2013
He went around
and came around, and went around again~
Then he came around, went back around
and came around again.

"What's with all the run-around?"
I asked my breathless friend
"Guess what goes around, will come around
and right up to the end."

"But what's all this you're chasin, then?"
I asked the weary clown~
"Been chasin' all these wimin,
and they've yet to slow me down."

"Who runs this ride, you run beside,
and can't they cut the speed?"
"I have no clue, but maybe you
can jump this thing, and plead."

"One last run around, dear girl
take a ride and wait for me,
it won't be long, enjoy the song,
I'm a sick sorry son of a b."

I hopped aboard his dream machine
where ladies rode the poles
and pushed passed blown out ******
to the room which housed controls.

I peeked inside the window there
and much to my surprise
no one was manning anything
on this carousel of lies.

A sea of lovely lonelies
ride 'The Future' from the past
around again a few more times
our lives are fading fast.

Suddenly he's on the ground
and draggin' on his knees
with sweat upon his forehead,
I said, "*******, LET GO, please."

"One last run around, dear girl,
don't you worry none 'bout me
appreciate your deep concern
I'm a sick sorry son of a b".

Well, it took some major doing
to release his grip of fear
and then I jumped, and bruised and bumped
was finally in the clear.

"we've cashed in all our chips today,
but we'll be back, you see-
you push to run the Future
and I'm a freakin' fool for thee.

We hobbled from the Carn-evil,
my weary friend and me
what goes around will come around
dear God please set us free.
g clair Sep 2013
Suddenly something occurred in my soul
I didn't quite know what had happened and so
I stood here in silence and at the same time
noticed that you'd gone away.

Never before had I felt so alone
not that it mattered for I have a phone
I've always been fine when there's nobody home
And so I knew I'd be okay.

I did what I do when I'm wanting to rest
climbed up the stairs to my billowy nest
let out a sigh and then wondered why
I'm caught up in something I dread.

This life can be sweet even when it's insane
just look at our faces, not bothered with pain
nobody pointed us to the right train
so we all jumped the short bus instead.

I lay here and wonder how prisoners escape
how smart men can think we evolved from an ape
and how is it that I am now caught on this tape
when the answer is right here to see.

Mistaking my ignorance for a sweet smile
you followed me off the bus for a while
we never spoke much, but we'd walk the last mile
I loved you more than you loved me.

Somebody saw us there, watching that day
two little slow-pokes without much to say
in want of a plan, well our lives got away
and suddenly I'm on my own.

Taking my life in my hands but I'd pray
Father, please guide me, I know not the way
Always too quick at the gate, and the play,
but the 'hard way', I learned on my own.
g clair Sep 2013
What can you say
out there in the fog
in want of your old flame
you burnt your last log.

The memories are hot
the pain you remember
beneath all the ashes
that last glowing ember.

Don't bother to fan it
there's no fuel to burn
let it go out
save the ash for the urn.

Turn your attention
to the wood
that needs chopping
do something worthwhile
like sweeping and mopping

Sweep out the soot
and mop up your tears
clean out the attic
let go of your fears

Put on the blues
then something upbeat
get on your warm clothes
walk out to the street

Follow it down
to the steaming creek bed
the mineral water
is something it's said

Melts away saddness
and heats up your head
without all the smoke
without all the dread

Don't need a fire
the water is good
cleans away everything
and better than wood

The Word is water
still living and true
all that you need
all that you do

Lie back in the warmth
pulled free from the mire
be free and be healed
and forever on fire
g clair Nov 2015
What can you say
out there in the fog
in want of your old flame
you burnt your last log.

The memories are hot
the pain you remember
beneath all the ashes
that last glowing ember.

Don't bother to fan it
there's no fuel to burn
let it go out
save the ash for the urn.

Turn your attention
to the wood
that needs chopping
do something worthwhile
like sweeping and mopping

Sweep out the soot
and mop up your tears
clean out the attic
let go of your fears

Put on the blues
then something upbeat
get on your warm clothes
walk out to the street

Follow it down
to the steaming creek bed
the mineral water
is something it's said

Melts away saddness
and heats up your head
without all the smoke
without all the dread

Don't need a fire
the water is good
cleans away everything
and better than wood

The Word is water
still living and true
all that you need
all that you do

Lie back in the warmth
pulled free from the mire
be free and be healed
and forever on fire
g clair Dec 2015
What can you say
out there in the fog
in want of the old flame,
you burnt your last log

The memories are hot
the pain you remember
beneath all the ashes,
that last glowing ember

Don't bother to fan it
there's no fuel to burn
let it go out
save the ash for the urn

turn your attention
to wood that needs chopping
do something worthwhile,
like sweeping and mopping

Sweep out the soot
and mop up your tears
clean out the attic
let go of your fears

Put on the blues
then something upbeat
get on your warm clothes
walk out to the street

Follow it down
to the steamy creek bed
The mineral water
is something, it's said

melts away sadness
and heats up your head
better than anywhere
else I've been led

Water and Truth
are hardly the same
but spoken by God
and heated by flame

springs from the Rock
, eternally true
flows through the mind
much better than brew

Comforts the soul
and eases the dread
lightens the burden
and raises the dead

this is the stuff that
He baptized us in
Hope for the weary,
forgiveness of sin

Gave us His Word
which will stand and deliver
won't ever forsake us
'cause He is The Giver

and when life is dreary,
and love let's you down
you're feeling all weary,
as if you might drown

read Psalm Twenty-Three
and you'll get to the part
He leads you to water,
and rest for your heart

lie back in the warmth,
pulled free from the mire
be freed from the past,
and forever on fire'!
g clair Feb 2014
What can you say
out there in the fog
in want of your old flame
you burnt your last log.

The memories are hot
the pain you remember
beneath all the ashes
that last glowing ember.

Don't bother to fan it
there's no fuel to burn
let it go out
save the ash for the urn.

Turn your attention
to the wood
that needs chopping
do something worthwhile
like sweeping and mopping

Sweep out the soot
and mop up your tears
clean out the attic
let go of your fears

Put on the blues
then something upbeat
get on your warm clothes
walk out to the street

Follow it down
to the steaming creek bed
the mineral water
is something it's said

Melts away saddness
and heats up your head
without all the smoke
without all the dread

Don't need a fire
the water is good
cleans away everything
and better than wood

The Word is water
still living and true
all that you need
all that you do

Lie back in the warmth
pulled free from the mire
be free and be healed
and forever on fire
g clair Apr 2014
a throughbred ran
leaping over wood hurdles
confident he could.

an old mare ran
stopped just short of the hurdle
apathy and fear.

a pony tail ran
just clearing the wood hurdles
feeling like a horse.

a young white horse ran
"now just hold on there Wilber
not all horses jump."
Nonsense poems
g clair Dec 2013
what can I say that has not yet been said
and where can I go that my heart hasn't led
when faced with the truth, let it go to my head
it hurts, but at least it's an answer
and where is the one that I've wanted to date
yesterday's leftovers still on my plate
coming to grips with the fact that he's late
and he's probably out with that dancer

Oh he may come and he might go
and I can't follow, I'm too slow
but I can sing a song I know, it's called my soul needs patching
you can sing along with me, the humming bird and buzzing bee
for all we know you're just like me, two souls whose hearts needs patching.

Tell me, when will I have what that other girl's got
love for a lifetime, guess this is my lot
I've scared off a few with the end to this plot
how those mystery dates made me shiver
and who is this person that I have become
sometimes just lazy, and snapping my gum,
I've tried to play smarter, perhaps I'm just dumb
but I'm all that I've got to deliver

Oh they may come and they may go
but I can't follow, I'm too slow
still I can sing a song I know,  it's called my soul needs patching
and you can sing along with me, the humming bird and buzzing bee
for all we know you're just like me, two souls whose hearts needs patching.

how can I slow what is driving me on
roll down the window, I'm more like a song
Set on the breeze that the wind blows along
with the fragrance of long summer days
So why all the longing when now is enough
precious and sweet are your words off the cuff
i'm happy to have you to read all this stuff
while the worlds smallest violin plays

Oh they may come and they may go
and I can't follow, I'm too slow
but I can sing a song I know it's called my soul needs patching
and you can sing along with me, the humming bird and buzzing bee
for all we know you're just like me, two souls whose hearts needs patching
g clair Oct 2013
when you're out in the field
want to go for the double
just throw to first base
and without any trouble
the guy who is running
to second is out
though you side stepped that base
and the umpire did shout
the rules are the rules
but not in this case
with the neighborhood play
you can throw to first base.

YEEERRRRROUT!
g clair Mar 2014
have you ever felt shot into space
with nothing to hold to without any trace
of the one who was always around
who could laugh really hard and without any sound

and you fear that someday he will see
that you're mind is a strange one indeed, yet it's free!
to be up in the air and then down
hear that music that plays like a carnival sound

and it's something that's deep in your soul
from the day you first met he's been making you whole
cause he won't let you feel afraid,
fix you up when you're ****** and knows his first aid

Five of us kids to take care of
and all within seven short years
Leno then Beano then Bonzo then Labo then Damo
all laughter and tears.

It seems that we share the same feelings
about our ol' dad, and it's said
much better to share them while we are alive
than to wait until after we're dead.
  
and so I will write about Daddy
and because I am long with my word
my poems I will say can go on for a day,
and a night or so that's what I've heard.

To Tony, Loretta would cater
she cooked for the man who would date her
they married and so, and what do you know
three children would come along later.

Born October two four, nineteen hundred
and twenty eighth year of our Lord
at home, the first child of Tony and Rhetts
baby Vinny, was cut from the cord.

This sweet little Vincent Morrone
raised up in by my Nonna and Tony
quickly stuck in his ways, from the start of his days
and could size up the truth from a phony.

He grew up in old Jersey City
where he polished the width of his witty
had a sister named Claire who remembers him there
dear old dad, handsome lad, and she's pretty.

Their brother was born sometime later
our sweet uncle Jerry Morrone
Handsome and good and well liked in the hood
got those genes and that same funny bone.

 After Highschool, staff sergeant in Air Force
guiding take offs and landings, his post
Four years of St Pete, put him smart on the street  
and he left for the likes of our coast.

He was offered a job down in Jackson
elementary dear Watson, it's said
he would fall for another young teacher, a screecher
whose sassiness got to his head

He married our mother, that's Jacquie
they really were some kind of a pair
she knew he was smart, liked his looks and his heart
and respected the good that was there.

So five days a week Dad would teach
and he liked those nine months of the year
but he lived for the summers at Jenkinson's beach
where that salt water pool was so clear.

in a torn old white sweatshirt and plaid shorts
he was sharing a Bud at the fence
loved his mower and pool, and that backyard was cool
much more like a park, you would sense.

we know how he hated the gurlic
and that onions would just make him hurlick
my mother would never use any such thing
he could drive her to sing like Steve Urlick.
( did I do that?)

No qualms about eating cold hotdogs
and cheddar in chunks from red foil
liked his eggplant cut thin, and his gravy could win
a blue ribbon, the secret? No spoil!!

Could deliver a joke like Bob Newhart
or a pun just for fun was sublime
he was always aware, but for crowds, didn't care
unless it was harmony time.

Best one on one at a party
but the life when it came to his cracks
made small talk okay, but preferred just to stay
to the side and be watching the acts.

Old Spice and that weekender stubble
did his thing and his speaking was soft
he was never a man to cause trouble
but he'd tell you when something was off.

McDonalds and corn on the cob
smoked a pipe, did not curse, and was never a slob
though I know he was not always neat
he was clean, never smelled, never spit in the street.

taught us never to take wooden nickels
and he loved a fresh jar of those kosher dill pickels
drove a large Orange bug in the day
with a driver side  SPEBSQSA

he wiped off my face with his thumb
that he'd lick first to clear away jelly and crumb
and he'd always be there in a pinch
if I needed his help, he was there, not a Grinch!

He was always the Good Humored one
bought us Ice cream and took us to places for fun
an occasional "word to the wise
you've cashed in your chips
and don't hand me your lies."

and the one who would walk me not once
but twice down the aisle of heartache and gloom
as a wife I have failed, a dunce
yet dismissing that elephant out of the room.

and tried not to laugh at my lot
at my barrenness, troubles and all of that snot
took me back to this place for some peace
never charged me a dime, not a landlord with lease
but a man with the mercy he knows
he understood sometimes that's just how life goes

and suddenly everything's changed
I am fifty two times around, feeling deranged
and it's not because I need a crutch
feeling lost in this world  
which I've lived in and such

but that I have been shot into space
having lost what I loved, it's my dad's loving face
and I'm here in the house that he bought
it's the one where we loved and the one where
we fought

and I cried here at length at the table
feeling shot into space, as if I am unable
to cope with the loss of my dad,
with the loss of his smile  and the voice that he had

and the place that he had in my life
in my heart....in my head...in my mind...So I climbed
to room where my dear daddy slept
and I laid on that bed and I wept and I wept
feeling shot into space I recalled that man's face
and I reached for the  tissues he kept in that place

and in one second flat, as I blew
from the nose of his likeness,  I knew and it's true
I was beamed back from space
into someone's embrace
and believe me, as if my dad knew...

For my father was known to be punny
always quick with the wit, such a honey
he would tell me to write, for it was his delight
that his children were his kind of funny.

I am never to think I am odder
for I am what I am, my dad's daughter
I hear distant strumming and now my dad humming
the theme song from Welcome Back Kotter.

http://youtu.be/5VlGyMG0ksg
My dad was a teacher and enjoyed music, jokes, puns, crow sounds, barbershop harmony, golfing, wearing certain colors which made him look good,  his own family, grandchildren, crossword puzzles. spy novels, movies. hotdogs, eggplant parm, radio talk shows, good food at the same restaurant, the Chapter House. Singing Barbershop harmony a tear jerker song or movie, peace and quiet. mowing the lawn and working in the yard, his car, a little whiskey sour or a cold Bud in the summer. BBQ out back. Football. Baseball. Ice cream. root beer floats. smoked a pipe ( the smell of sweet pipe tobacco still reminds me), applesauce with cinnamon , apricot jam, my cookies.  etc.
g clair Sep 2013
When you feel taken for granted
thinkin' they just don't care
wanting to move away again,
but again, you don't know where

burned-out, tired of trying
to be all the bossman wants
to be everything to everyone,
reading in between the fonts

We who sit beside you
in the office and the stall
who sing along, the same old song,
while you stand and take the fall

in a cubicle, with mistletoe,
this lonesome caroler hums
it's all benign,
please don't resign
before the yule tide comes

Want to see you here on Christmas
don't leave us all alone
want to hear you 'woe ** **' again
so don't slam down the phone

don't make that snap decision
when the pressure starts to build
just let the steam out somewhere else
and let your heart be filled...
with joy

At the meeting, you suggested
wrap the garland and a bow
and all the trimmings, here and there
around whose neck, we know

the one about the lighting
the star atop her head
and now the head of operations,
wants to move you to the shed.

They just don't understand you,
your work is so complex
you didn't sign his Christmas card
but the boss still signs your checks

so don't be rash, just try to hash it out
and make a deal,
and let bygones be gone
before the office Christmas meal.

Want to see you here on Christmas
please don't leave us all alone
want to hear you 'woe ** **' again
so don't slam down the phone

and don't make that snap decision
when the pressure starts to build
just let the steam out somewhere else
and let your heart be filled...
with joy
g clair Sep 2014
the one thing that I've wanted
eludes me to this day
I drive around just looking
with nothing much to say
the ones that have it, earned it
while the others, we just pray
for the one thing that we wanted
but eludes us to this day~

Aye, the one thing that we wanted, but eludes us to this day!

well you take the road to riches
and ****** well you may
find the path that intersects it
when your greed gets in the way
and blindly turn aside
when all the beggars plead, "Oi Vey'!
you've got the one thing that they've wanted
but eludes them to this day~

Aye,the one thing that they've wanted but eludes them to this day!

while I wait around just hoping
that my wages serve me well
and try to keep the heat down
while the gas bill goes to hell
not the thing I really needed
but the one that keeps me warm
it's my thermal underwear~
and all that's clinging to my form~

Aye, her thermal underwear is all that's clingin' to her form!

I pull myself together
in the early morning light
and layer on and layer up
'cause this has been my plight
the news guy says it's snowing and
Long Island's in a freeze, Geez
the last thing that I needed
and it's right up to my knees~

Aye, the LAST thing that she needed and it's right up to her knees!

So I'll boil a *** of water
and I'll fill me up a tub
and I'll soak my father's daughter
till there's nothin' left to scrub
and when I'm toasty warm and ready
then I'll climb back in the bed
close my eyes and dream of summer
and the one thing in my head~

Close her eyes and dream of summer and the one thing in her head!
It's the one thing that I've wanted, but forever left unsaid.
g clair Sep 2013
the one thing that I've wanted
eludes me to this day
I drive around just looking
with nothing much to say
the ones that have it, earned it
while the others, we just pray
for the one thing that we wanted
but eludes us to this day~

Aye, the one thing that we wanted, but eludes us to this day!

well you take the road to riches
and ****** well you may
find the path that intersects it
when your greed gets in the way
and blindly turn aside
when all the beggars plead, "Oi Vey'!
you've got the one thing that they've wanted
but eludes them to this day~

Aye,the one thing that they've wanted but eludes them to this day!

while I wait around just hoping
that my wages serve me well
and try to keep the heat down
while the gas bill goes to hell
not the thing I really needed
but the one that keeps me warm
it's my thermal underwear~
and all that's clinging to my form~

Aye, her thermal underwear is all that's clingin' to her form!

I pull myself together
in the early morning light
and layer on and layer up
'cause this has been my plight
the news guy says it's snowing and
Long Island's in a freeze, Geez
the last thing that I needed
and it's right up to my knees~

Aye, the LAST thing that she needed and it's right up to her knees!

So I'll boil a *** of water
and I'll fill me up a tub
and I'll soak my father's daughter
till there's nothin' left to scrub
and when I'm toasty warm and ready
then I'll climb back in the bed
close my eyes and dream of summer
and the one thing in my head~

Close her eyes and dream of summer and the one thing in her head!
It's the one thing that I've wanted, but forever left unsaid.
g clair Oct 2013
Patterns are beautiful, made for the mind
repeating like seeding is safe to be sure
seeking to simplify, symmetry's kind
for rhythm needs weeding and rhyming's manure

what shoots from the seed is what God has put in it
but as for the crop, well it is all in our hands
the gift and the sower are so tied together
for everything planted has natural demands

and naturally we are the gift from The Giver
yet everything in us requiring care
practice and patience brings fruit from our talents
the giftings were planted to have and to share.  

Rhythm will gallop, a horse is a carrier
bringing the message to those who can hear
but some like to think that a rhyme is a barrier
blocking the flow of a message you fear.

I prefer waking to dreaming and napping
I tend to my garden and think as I ****
I work for a living, but energy sapping
I'll nap for a while and tend to my need.

Keeping the rhythm brings sleep to the soul
a sense of reality, comforting true
but once you are in it the pattern seems duller
and sleeping, mentality changes the hue

And isn't it good to be off of the grid
Hey poet! Come on then and let it pour out
where we can be freed from the usual bid
just open the tap and then capture the stout!

Fill up your mug with the amber to brown
out for amusment this cold autumn night
foam at the mouth, an oktoberfest clown
your writer desires a great ghastly fright

Hop on the ' Fear is',  it's not real scary
but simply a ride to a fabulous place
a mystery tour for the ones who are wary
unbuckle your belt and the heart starts to race.

Slowly the Fear Is beginning to lift you
go clockwise and wave to the folks on the ground
you wonder why Fear Is the name which was given
since riding this feels like a merry go round.

Peer through the branches
now bare in the darkness
searching for words
that are hanging like bats
the car starts a rocking
with door swinging open   
you're rambling bout nothin' but jeepers egats!

the floor opens up
now your seat is a kneeler
upon which you pray' for the down to come sooner
but onward and upward the wheel
unforgiving
keeps turning and climbing
with no time for rhyming
and you're just a windbag
along for the ride

closer to Heaven
beneath are the treetops
you're looking down farther
and out into blackness
the howling surrounds you
as wind blows in fiercely
in waves without pattern
just random and fragmented
moments unwritten
unplanned, unrehearsed
you're smitten and silly
both frightened and chilly
and groping for closure
your mind is immersed

below all this drama
you turn up your headset
and manage to drown out the
sound you might hear yet
it's still all around you
so far from the pavement
with nowhere to go and nowhere to hide!

While everyone down there
is bathed in the lamp light
the music is distant,
and riders are laughing
but you sit there babbling
for heights are your weakness
look up and then down and then closing your eyes!

you're nearing the top and the car starts to shudder
as if there's a quake and the pavement is cracking
you grab for the bar and it slips from your hand
you're  can't help but do it, you simply must stand!

the air seems to tempt you
to slide in your seating
toward the edge of your falling
and surely approaching
the top of the world and you laugh to yourself
in this floating dimension
you're drunk and alone and in knots
but it's good
'cause you're way up in Dreamland
rocking the cables
which hold you to safety
when suddenly everything suddenly stops!

Wait for a while
alone in the darkness
wondering what could be hap'ning below
a glitch in the workings, a crack in the coggery
what is the matter, your words aren't flowing

Dark days upon us, and wind chills can hover
you take down the canopy, blow off the cover
leaves scatter running and chased by the wind
but I, off my rocker am talked down again
carefully setting my feet on the ground
never quite getting away from the sound

it's that old beat for beat, that measure for measure
grapes of pure gall and fermenting displeasure
tasted enough to know this can't be real
while mashing my poems in the poetry wheel.
a dream is a ride that we write for ourselves
of our problems and faces we can't just erase

the dream tries to make sense of nothing quite sensibly
riding this dream I'm set free from the pace.
g clair Nov 2015
Captured there in orange
beneath the old street light
a cloud of breath exhaled
hangs heavy in the night.

Waiting on the 409
has never been this bleak
the fierce wind nips your ear lobe
and ice cold stings your cheek.

I watch you turn your collar up
your back against the bite
one hand on that coffee cup
the other out of sight.

Each morning
getting colder
the forecast is for snow
in fleece and wool you face the frost
and how I'll never know

I see you’re green
my blue faced friend
the green before the fall
you've never been about the perks
it's conscience above all.

The last thing on your mind just now
would be to get a Lynx
traffic is lame
road rage insane
And air pollution stinks.

Don't EVEN get you started
on the SUV
spews out nitrous oxide
and guzzles Texas tea.

Public parking,
another rare find
for what you get,
they rob you blind.

and what they miss
the vandal takes
leave you with migranes
the car alarm makes.

better for all
we all take the train
or one car per family
'stead of one car per brain.

Watching you stand there
with ice crystals forming
I despise all your stubborness
you NEED global warming!

I know you're no girly
my Ever-Ready mate
but my Duracel is waiting
and the 409 is late

I get out of my car
and approach you from the rear
my work cut out, without a doubt
the ice lymric is near

poetic license pending
I call for a herione's ending
like a frozen filet, without word or delay
I can lift you without even bending.

Once inside and thawing
you start in about the gas
I turn down the heat,
but turn up the seat
that's warming up your ****.

I'm all for the planet, I tell ya
and doing whatever is best
but for mornings like these
with your jewels in deep freeze
come with and we'll heat up the Quest!
g clair Dec 2014
Captured there in orange
beneath the old street light
a cloud of breath exhaled
hangs heavy in the night.

Waiting on the 409
has never been this bleak
the fierce wind nips your ear lobe
and ice cold stings your cheek.

I watch you turn your collar up
your back against the bite
one hand on that coffee cup
the other out of sight.

Each morning
getting colder
the forecast is for snow
in fleece and wool you face the frost
and how I'll never know

I see you’re green
my blue faced friend
the green before the fall
you've never been about the perks
it's conscience above all.

The last thing on your mind just now
would be to get a Lynx
traffic is lame
road rage insane
And air pollution stinks.

Don't EVEN get you started
on the SUV
spews out nitrous oxide
and guzzles Texas tea.

Public parking,
another rare find
for what you get,
they rob you blind.

and what they miss
the vandal takes
leave you with migranes
the car alarm makes.

better for all
we all take the train
or one car per family
'stead of one car per brain.

Watching you stand there
with ice crystals forming
I despise all your stubborness
you NEED global warming!

I know you're no girly
my Ever-Ready mate
but my Duracel is waiting
and the 409 is late

I get out of my car
and approach you from the rear
my work cut out, without a doubt
the ice lymric is near

poetic license pending
I call for a herione's ending
like a frozen filet, without word or delay
I can lift you without even bending.

Once inside and thawing
you start in about the gas
I turn down the heat,
but turn up the seat
that's warming up your ****.

I'm all for the planet, I tell ya
and doing whatever is best
but for mornings like these
with your jewels in deep freeze
come with and we'll heat up the Quest!
g clair Sep 2013
Captured there in orange
beneath the old street light
a cloud of breath exhaled
hangs heavy in the night.

Waiting on the 409
has never been this bleak
the fierce wind nips your ear lobe
and ice cold stings your cheek.

I watch you turn your collar up
your back against the bite
one hand on that coffee cup
the other out of sight.

Each morning
getting colder
the forecast is for snow
in fleece and wool you face the frost
and how I'll never know

I see you’re green
my blue faced friend
the green before the fall
you've never been about the perks
it's conscience above all.

The last thing on your mind just now
would be to get a Lynx
traffic is lame
road rage insane
And air pollution stinks.

Don't EVEN get you started
on the SUV
spews out nitrous oxide
and guzzles Texas tea.

Public parking,
another rare find
for what you get,
they rob you blind.

and what they miss
the vandal takes
leave you with migranes
the car alarm makes.

better for all
we all take the train
or one car per family
'stead of one car per brain.

Watching you stand there
with ice crystals forming
I despise all your stubborness
you NEED global warming!

I know you're no girly
my Ever-Ready mate
but my Duracel is waiting
and the 409 is late

I get out of my car
and approach you from the rear
my work cut out, without a doubt
the ice lymric is near

poetic license pending
I call for a herione's ending
like a frozen filet, without word or delay
I can lift you without even bending.

Once inside and thawing
you start in about the gas
I turn down the heat,
but turn up the seat
that's warming up your ****.

I'm all for the planet, I tell ya
and doing whatever is best
but for mornings like these
with your jewels in deep freeze
come with and we'll heat up the Quest!
g clair Sep 2013
I saw Him first or He saw me
and fear struck lonely in the knee
and I did stumble, but then caught
compose yourself', the guru taught

Still the urge to run and hide
lest someone see what lacks inside
I took six steps and then back three
this war between self-help and me

and he took nine from where he stood
the other way, but that was good
the farther off, the less the chance
that lonely would be asked to dance

Now hidden in the second aisle
my strength returned and I could smile
and feel the heat come to my face
and as I looked, my heart did race

For he too lingered in this aisle
the other end and for a while
perusing through the magazines
should I be wondering what this means?

I tried to think but drew a blank
what to do, then my heart sank
around the corner came his wife
with 4 small children, yes, his life

Of course, you fool, you can't be thinking
everything that tics is winking
stop the nonsense, drop the strife
count your blessings, get a life

Bound by lonely? Just get free
kick it in the other knee
get a dog and take it out
and don't forget, you're kind of stout

Lose the weight and get some style
feeling fat? An extra mile!
take your self-help to the bank
get some money, fill the tank

Bring your fear out for the ride
drop it off the other side
fear found lonely in the brew
Find yourself and lose those two

don't be waiting on the show
'cause when it's meant to be you'll know
Pack a bag and take a few
drive all night to somewhere new

but self-help, where we going to?
time is short, you cannot stew
but why the running, why the haste?
Why, can't you see? Your life's a waste!

trying all this new advice
I'm on the rocks, please hold the ice
i just can't fix these strange new drinks
and I don't care what that one thinks

I took that ride out to the cliff
and if's that's true, then what's the diff?
I've spent a lot of time on these
and burned my eyes right down to peas

And so I opened up the door
and took the books out, from the floor
and THREW them off the cliff that day
dust to dust or come what may!

To the woods, from whens you came
before your words would cause me shame!
before they bound you into books
and scarred your spine with fonts and looks!

you had no say in what was done
but someone gained a pretty sum
and all well meaning, surely so
but in the end, a heavy snow

And spring has come, and all things new
I'll try not to remember you
but hope to God that come the thaw
I'll not be sought out by the law

for dumping is illegal here
and though my conscience, fairly clear
at least I saved another soul
from thinking self-help makes you whole

when life is just one smaller part
of whats to come, what's in the heart
and how you act and what you do
the evidence of what's in you

As human being, we tire and fall
and need the strength of someone tall
but not a man, a loving God
who knows just how our feet are shod.

who wore our shoes and walked behind
who bore the sin of all mankind
and took the beating for the worst
the ones who hated, those who cursed

And asks us just to trust in Him
to wash the stain of human sin
to let Him carry, be the Lord
a Savior we can all afford

Whose perfect Love cast's out the fear
the lonely hearts club band is near
and knows the pain, he's led the herds
he wrote the music and the words

the sheep can't really help themselves
though self-help books have filled my shelves
but when I trusted Jesus Christ
he gave me more, the BEST ADVICE!
g clair Aug 2014
somewhere far
from city's light
the boat tips gently
in the night
he's in the moment
listening
and moon off ripples
glistening
music plays
a distant tune
an old transistor
calls to loon
and settled into
cozy lull
his feathered blanket
lines the hull
safe and sound
he drifts to sleep
in gentle waters
soul will keep
somewhere deep
in waters dark
appears a lone
and hungry shark
and then a tug upon the line
aroused from slumber
sleepy mind
grabs the pole
fast as he can
reels it in
and forms a plan

if this fish is really big
then I will have to do a jig
and that the case the boat will rock
I will not make it to the dock

and if this fish is really small
I will have worked
for naught at all
and then no story would I tell
for lies once told could lead to hell

but if this fish is average size
with no more lightning in his eyes
and tired of the will to live
the fight is gone
got none to give
then I will let this last one go
I've fished all day and
this I know...

the very last should simply be
the one that got away from me
and with the knife, he cut the line
which freed the shark
and saved the wine
which sat beside the sleeping bag
and calls a man to battered hag

Ahoy to fishermen like this
whose spear is certain more to miss
with one eye closed and one eye ope
close the other? I say NOPE!
Leave the one eye always open
best for night fish which need scopin'
keep a knife there at your side
cut them free, and drop your pride
take a hamburger to eat
just the same as fish is meat.
g clair Nov 2015
In the Summer of Love
I was just a young dove
but for all my eight years
it was all I thought of
and he slipped me a note
just a sentence or two
with my name and the words
"I Love You".

and I thought it was sweet
see I knew him from Pete
a mutual friend,
we all played in the street
and I never would think
that he'd give me a wink
less a note with the
words "I Love You."

Well I tucked it away
in my pocket that day
and I smiled at the boy  
and said "Hey, let's go play"
But the recess bell rang
and I thought then, "Oh Dang",
since his classroom was one door away.

I never did kiss
that olive-skinned guy
with the ***** blond hair
that hung over his eye
I'd fallen for John
and I guess he moved on
and we parted
without a goodbye.

Many years later
I'd think about Glen,
that first little crush
the paper and pen
the thought and the hand
that bothers to write
with intent
and the courage
to send.

And one day by chance
I sat in a chair
entrusting a stranger
with all of my hair
she pulled through the cap
the strands to be bleached
and though it was painful
they had to be reached.

I asked for her name
and discovered, the same
as the boy I had liked,
my childhood flame
I made the mistake
of informing the goat
the wife of the boy,
about one little note.

And never you mind
she pulled my hair blind
I don't think I've ever
run into her kind.
And the moral I say
and my very hairs pray
"please leave your old love notes behind!"

In the Summer of Love
I was just a young dove
but for all my eight years
it was all I thought of
g clair Sep 2013
In the Summer of Love
I was just a young dove
but for all my eight years
it was all I thought of
and he slipped me a note
just a sentence or two
with my name and the words
"I Love You".

and I thought it was sweet
see I knew him from Pete
a mutual friend,
we all played in the street
and I never would think
that he'd give me a wink
less a note with the
words "I Love You."

Well I tucked it away
in my pocket that day
and I smiled at the boy  
and said "Hey, let's go play"
But the recess bell rang
and I thought then, "Oh Dang",
since his classroom was one door away.

I never did kiss
that olive-skinned guy
with the ***** blond hair
that hung over his eye
I'd fallen for John
and I guess he moved on
and we parted
without a goodbye.

Many years later
I'd think about Glen,
that first little crush
the paper and pen
the thought and the hand
that bothers to write
with intent
and the courage
to send.

And one day by chance
I sat in a chair
entrusting a stranger
with all of my hair
she pulled through the cap
the strands to be bleached
and though it was painful
they had to be reached.

I asked for her name
and discovered, the same
as the boy I had liked,
my childhood flame
I made the mistake
of informing the goat
the wife of the boy,
about one little note.

And never you mind
she pulled my hair blind
I don't think I've ever
run into her kind.
And the moral I say
and my very hairs pray
"please leave your old love notes behind!"

In the Summer of Love
I was just a young dove
but for all my eight years
it was all I thought of
g clair Sep 2013
I want it if I think
you'll want it if I don't.

I'll take it if I think
you'll take it if I won't.

You want the thing I most desire
I'll leave it in your hand.

This  riddle is the kind of thing
you'll never inderstand..
g clair Nov 2015
It started with a couplet
quite easy to direct
but blossomed into something else
beyond my intellect.

I am only one,
I ask you, what can one girl can do?
You fed thousands fish and loaves
though you only had a few.

You healed the sick and dying
saying "Greater shall you do"
But I am only human, Jesus,
how can that be true?

And then You say You are 'I AM',
"I AM alive in you".
And I say "Okay, Good enough,
The Truth will have to do".

So how 'bout we just keep in touch
if You're that close, sweet Lord
It won't take long to reach You
and that's a call I can afford.

Very clever little g,
you're starting out just fine
and when the need is there
just speak the water into wine.

Heal sick and broken hearted
lead a soul out of the flame
It's not your job to worry how
just do it in my Name.

Do not worry how you'll look
or what you're gonna say
just be yourself and let Me
be The Light that shines The Way.

Jesus was a real man
the books will verify
at 33 they nailed him
to a chunk of wood to die.

And to be sure that he was dead
hanging naked on a cross
they speared him though, and left him there
my Jewish carpenter boss.

And not a word was written
that He would not fulfill
the scene was painted well before
the making of the hill.

All men can be redeemed
that is,
bought back with His own blood
we cannot pay the price for sin
He freed us by His Love.

Written long before his birth
their KING would rise day three
and so it was, and so it is
that I AM lives in me.

And to many, it may seem absurd
but this is not a game
I am aware of the price He paid
and the power of His Name.

I've no stake in religion
there's nothing there for me
but I will follow Christ alone
His Love has set me free.

And though I am just one girl
and crazy into rhyming
In prayer I find my comfort
and I trust him with the timing.
g clair Sep 2013
It started with a couplet
quite easy to direct
but blossomed into something else
beyond my intellect.

I am only one,
I ask you, what can one girl can do?
You fed thousands fish and loaves
though you only had a few.

You healed the sick and dying
saying "Greater shall you do"
But I am only human, Jesus,
how can that be true?

And then You say You are 'I AM',
"I AM alive in you".
And I say "Okay, Good enough,
The Truth will have to do".

So how 'bout we just keep in touch
if You're that close, sweet Lord
It won't take long to reach You
and that's a call I can afford.

Very clever little g,
you're starting out just fine
and when the need is there
just speak the water into wine.

Heal sick and broken hearted
lead a soul out of the flame
It's not your job to worry how
just do it in my Name.

Do not worry how you'll look
or what you're gonna say
just be yourself and let Me
be The Light that shines The Way.

Jesus was a real man
the books will verify
at 33 they nailed him
to a chunk of wood to die.

And to be sure that he was dead
hanging naked on a cross
they speared him though, and left him there
my Jewish carpenter boss.

And not a word was written
that He would not fulfill
the scene was painted well before
the making of the hill.

All men can be redeemed
that is,
bought back with His own blood
we cannot pay the price for sin
He freed us by His Love.

Written long before his birth
their KING would rise day three
and so it was, and so it is
that I AM lives in me.

And to many, it may seem absurd
but this is not a game
I am aware of the price He paid
and the power of His Name.

I've no stake in religion
there's nothing there for me
but I will follow Christ alone
His Love has set me free.

And though I am just one girl
and crazy into rhyming
In prayer I find my comfort
and I trust him with the timing.
g clair Nov 2015
even if there were to be
something like an EMP
nobody could ever stop the rain
nobody could keep the soil  
from bringing forth, by hands which toil
and harvest crops from field and fruited plain.

nobody could stop the day
and nighttime falls here comes what may
no man-made wind could move the weather vane
winds will blow and sun will burn
wood to chop and butter churn
work till dusk, and sleep to keep us sane.

God, HE IS and always was
came to Earth in flesh because
Love is stronger than the ones who ****
Jesus is the only ONE
the promised Savior, God's own Son
made Father's peace with Man
and loves us still.

Was a time, I di'nt believe
that God made Adam
then made Eve
and though it took me years to realize
He wants us all to know His Love
He's here right here now, the Maker of
the universe, but still this great surprise!

A perfect lamb was sacrificed
God's only son, Yeshua Christ
said he would take our sin, and wash us clean
my heart is flesh where once stone
God raised me up so He'd be known
and I can truly trust in the Unseen.

Yes, even though these eyes can't see
or touch the One who made us free
the Spirit, God's own Voice, does not deceive
We who hear, his precious sheep
the shepherd guides, and wills to keep
and even when we fail, He'll never leave.

and even if the floor falls out
and walking dead all roam about
and then we're forced to find a place to stay
and even if no food or water
Hell on Earth and then the slaughter
God would somehow help us through that day.
g clair Sep 2013
What are the rules in the war against terror~
Did we foil their plans or was it simply their error?

How do we know when we've won the big fight~
Will they run for their lives? Raise a flag that is white?

Does someone announce when the suicide bombers
turn a blind eye to virgins, or whatever they're promised?

Can we sweeten the deal, make them an offer~
live belly dancers...season tickets... gold coffer?

So what will it cost us to buy back a brain
to turn a sick mind back to thinking again?

These 'holy warriors' choose death over reason
to back out on Jihad would sooner be treason

believing it's Allah that leads them to take
their own precious lives and far more is at stake~

The innocent victims we can not defend~
who daily live not knowing how it will end.

How can we justify, how will it look~
when all this is put in the history book?

What have we gained by the loss of their lives?
We **** for our cause, but the maddness survives~

We've stood up for freedom and bravely gone in
not once, but two times and then over again~

The Jihad, and what not, and now look to Zion,
where Jewish extremists hate the Almighty Lion~

Terrorists plot for the end of the West
while we who are faithful are put to the test~

What ought we do then, when challanged with threats
the further we dig, the hotter it gets~

Over thirty four hundred have paid with thier blood~
not counting civilians, who've died in the mud.

On innocent soil, the war will continue~
If you think this will end, then the truth is not in you.

The Brave William Wallace, he raised up his men~
to fight for their freedom, and won in the end.

He built up their pride and the love of their home~
picked a fight with King, and thus ends this poem.
g clair Nov 2015
There was a time, I was a child
and I could climb the wooded wild
and see out over treetops way beyond this place called home
Now I am grown, can barely climb
but give me time and I will find
another way to rise above and see beyond this poem

The paths I loved when I was nine
are overgrown with thorny vine
and streams beside, which I would sit
polluted now and hardly fit
but give me time and I will find
another path, a sparkling stream
which winds around and satisfies
a quiet place where we can dream.

Where there's a will, there is a way
and there's a path that's yours today
and if you come upon a place that somehow seems impassable,
the answer still, the same today
That if you ask and if you pray
the things you hope for, come what may
will rarely seem impossible.
g clair Mar 2014
There was a time, I was a child
and I could climb the wooded wild
and see out over treetops way beyond this place called home
Now I am grown, can barely climb
but give me time and I will find
another way to rise above and see beyond this poem

The paths I loved when I was nine
are overgrown with thorny vine
and streams beside, which I would sit
polluted now and hardly fit
but give me time and I will find
another path, a sparkling stream
which winds around and satisfies
a quiet place where we can dream.

Where there's a will, there is a way
and there's a path that's yours today
and if you come upon a place that somehow seems impassable,
the answer still, the same today
That if you ask and if you pray
the things you hope for, come what may
will rarely seem impossible.
as a child and as an adult I have had moments of feeling overwhelmed and it was during those times, that I would search out a safe quiet secret place to hide out alone, and it was usually in the woods, near a stream.  Now it is more often in the lumber department at Home Depot, or frozen foods at Shop Rite.
g clair Sep 2013
not a lot to think about
i seem so light and easy
but suddenly the clouds roll in
and feeling kind of queasy
i run and close the windows of my soul
but just can't win
the winds are blowing up now
and the thunder's rolling in

and suddenly it's raining down
we'll have to wait it through
you try to keep your sunny side
but rain can make you blue
it beats upon this old tin roof
we're stuck inside together
you've slept right though this scene before
and understand my weather

pretty soon the rains let up
and skies begin to clear
the sunset's red and orange haze
means better days are near
we all have nasty weather
inner conficts you can't see
and when those storms come, brother
you can weather the worst of me.
g clair Oct 2013
Early this morning
downstairs in the kitchen
new sunlight is beaming
on fresh painted isle
it spills to the floor
like water, light streaming
on warm 'Sandy Beaches'
mom's favorite tile.
  
and out through her windows
it pours in the front yard
kissing green lawn
which is littered with leaves
wet brown and orange
red, golden yellow
while shadows are present still under the eaves

coffee steam rising
it wafts up the staircase
and into the room where I'm barely asleep
awaken my senses
and draw me to sitting
when off of the mattress I suddenly leap

Today is a brisk one
my window cracked open
cause breathing cool air to me always feels best
I play with the thermostat
keep myself cozy
I'm layered on thickly, topped off with a vest

So I sit here writing, while tile guy cutting
the ones he will place near the door to our home
upon which will stand all our autumnal guests who are shopping for houses
not reading this poem.

I've turned up the music, Bon Iver,  
with coffee to  comfort the artisan working his trade
along with his help who'd complained of a headache
his sinuses cleared with medicinal aid.
  
And letting the morning lapse into the noonday
while dew's burning off, we'll be singing a song
blue sky or cloudy, misty or raining
it's daytime, we're doing and rolling along.

And as I tap lightly, I am seriously sinking
in work I must finish to ready this place
today I am painting a bedroom and thinking
how lovely it is to create, to erase

all of the bumps and the holes from our living
I'll spackle and sand to a smooth starting clean
so nice that old wallboard can be so forgiving
and I prefer flat paint without any sheen.
  
the sun's setting quickly
but night-time comes slowly
as it is common to dusk on the land
revealing the stars I can see further out
and enjoying the evening, with nothing else planned.

I trudge to the place where
my day always ends
and isn't that something, just as it begins
I pull back the covers and
punch up the pillow
and ask Love's forgiveness for all of my sins.

Nobody tells us to keep our lives simple
a choice that we make to be glad less the gold
for the things that are free less the stuff that we carry
a pleasure to have which will never grow old.
g clair Sep 2013
through Your eyes
I am magnified
through Your eyes
all the best and all the worst
and in between
and in the quiet places waiting
You could hear me when I cried
in the darkest times relating
understanding what's inside

through Your eyes
every dark and desperate move
and all the lies
and all the places I've been in
though a sin
but you're a real and present savior
and blesser of my sneeze
and so here I am Lord, once again
asking on my knees

Through your eyes
just see me through this storm
and be my guide,
I can't really see through
to the other side
only you,
You know currents
and the depth of every tide
and you promised to be with me
and i know you've never ever lied

and in the smallest seed of faith
you see the tree it will become
you're making something out of nothing
chose the lowly and the ***
and if my trusting you
is foolish
than I'd rather be that too
than pretend I'm strong and wise enough
to make it without you.

and then when my little faith is tested
when I'm down here in the deep
when it's getting late
and I can't wait
you help me get to sleep.
and when I fall down you are with me
like you fell down with that cross
and you lift the burden
from my back
and help me with the sauce
and with the words all wrong
you show me
just how to wrap it up
and you meet all my needs
bring me right through the weeds
Dear God that I'll see
through your eyes.
g clair Oct 2013
Though it's easy to speak of great joy and remember my Savior
I am baffled sometimes yet amused by my own strange behavior
I know,  like rawhide I can be rather rough
sand the edges, I've tried, but enough is enough
Let's just cut with the gruff and hang onto the stuff that we favor.

somewhere between nothing and something I'm feeling indifference
to spare you the details I speak in the vagueness of inference.
It's not everyday that we love and we lose
but it happened to me and it's time that I choose
so I'm taking a break cause at stake is my peace and my patience.

I stand at the doorway of reason and see that I'm failing
I know that it's not the right season but want to go sailing.
the edge of the keel will cut through the ice
and time out for healing is always so nice
so besides your advice I will take what is best for my ailing.

Let me drift though the sorrow and sort through the things that I'm feeling
and back here tomorrow I'll help you to paint up the ceiling.
you find yourself working and that is the way
you hold it together and get through the day
but I pray that in play we will both find a good kind of healing.

We all have to cope with these things and we know that it's coming
our lives are like houses, emotions are just like the plumbing.
you plan it all out and try not to rush
keep the lines clear and remember to flush
but all of my gripes are like pipes, clogged and so unbecoming.

Though it's easy to speak of great joy and remember my Savior
I'm baffled sometimes yet amused by my own strange behavior
Originally I wrote this while fixing up a house and finding myself somewhat irritable.  I am in a similar situation with my ex who remains a dear friend, and is now helping me update my mom's home to sell. I am learning to be more patient and yield to his expertise and be grateful for assistance, but still sometimes I think sometimes we need to take a break from the situation, each other and ourselves.
g clair Mar 2014
a careful and a thoughtful kind of man
standing on the edge of all he knows
timing is the most important thing to him
counting all his reasons as he goes...

watching everyday as days draw near
how he'd like to leave it all right now
tomorrow holds the answer, soon it's yesterday
gone without a trace and this is how

a careful and thoughtful kind of man
standing on the edge of all his fear
waited 'til his boy was nearly nine years old
daddy taught him well to disappear.  

never let them know you're leaving town
spend some time and money on the kids when you're around
be sure to have your picture taken all together then
leave when they're asleep without a sound.

"Where you going Pa", your little man
turn around and see him in the porch light if you can
"I'll be back in just a while" is what he heard you say
watched his daddy slowly walk away.

here we go, another wasted year
thought about the reasons that you had to disappear
nothing's sounding sweeter than the ones you left last spring
timing is the most important thing
thinking about fathers being human, doing things they regret. feeling convicted and turning back towards home.
g clair Apr 2014
penetrate the mask
with Gods own Word
gently lift the lie away
and power off the dirt
wash away the malady
today a new reality
love yourself and  
live without the hurt
g clair Oct 2015
paper waits to take a beating
from this pen, it's raging quest
to deeply drag and tear the meaning
for an unexpected guest.

black and blue across the surface
lines instinctively know their way
forming shapes she can't describe them
hurts too much for her to say.

when it's over hand is tired
smudged on side yet satisfied
nothing gained but something less
than what she'd held so deep inside.
g clair Oct 2013
He's Uncle John to you, but John to the rest of us
Got a way of telling stories without the fanfare or the fuss
He can jump into any conversation, has a lot of stuff to say
and every bit is interesting 'cause that always been John's way.

There was one about his summer job before 1970,
paid to push a Swan-shaped boat off a dock in Asbury
With a grapple hook on a ten foot pole, or something of that sort
well he'd push 'em out and pull 'em in wasn't doing it for sport~
The same guy who owned the swan boats, tunneled love across the way
twice a week John worked the darkness, but preferred the light of day.

Played rhythm at the Upstage in band called 'Cory' later
workin' Perkins in West Belmar, took the name from the percolator
Around that time he grew his hair out, it was like an Afro-sheen
mistaken for Tinker, a surfboard chinker and drummer with Springsteen.

Cruisin' down around Brookdale in his '39 LaSalle
Met 'Stinky' Tink at Thompson Park, where he was singing with his pal

Hey John, you look like Tinker,
but now you favor Gere
a live ringer for Mike Richards,
and don't forget DeNir-

Oh, if you can't remember anything from 40 years ago
just ask your Uncle John who knows the time in Tokyo.
In memory of my sister's brother in law John Anthony Farrell, Coast Guard Auxiliary, beloved brother, uncle and friend. RIP Uncle "Leprechaun John"....One hat off and one hat on!
g clair Dec 2014
Poetry, Hello!
g clair Oct 2013
Well they call me Uncle Rumpkin
my body's just a pumpkin
my hat, the pointed core
with a smile, I deliver
warm you up when you shiver
leave me lighted on the floor

Hey  I'm not a nasty fellow
in fact I'm rather mellow
an ordinary guy
on the porch, a Jack-0-lantern
with a torch, but the man turns
and I'm churned into a pie!

and I
would rather die
a broken shell smashed in the street
to be a trick, over a treat
for all your kids
who'd rather eat

well my face is close to human
my teeth can almost chew men
though I'm not that kinda dude
in the end when our eyes meet
you will see who's the pie's meat
when they're servin' up the food!
g clair Nov 2015
Well they call me Uncle Rumpkin
my body's just a pumpkin
my hat, the pointed core
with a smile, I deliver
warm you up when you shiver
leave me lighted on the floor

Hey  I'm not a nasty fellow
in fact I'm rather mellow
an ordinary guy
on the porch, a Jack-0-lantern
with a torch, but the man turns
and I'm churned into a pie!

and I
would rather die
a broken shell smashed in the street
to be a trick, over a treat
for all your kids
who'd rather eat

well my face is close to human
my teeth can almost chew men
though I'm not that kinda dude
in the end when our eyes meet
you will see who's the pie's meat
when they're servin' up the food!
g clair Sep 2013
Coughing up the phlegm
I've come to realize, this big surprise
no longer can I keep it to myself
Stuff like this can grow inside the body
and it's snotty
but you need to know the facts now for yourself.

and if the sputum's yellow,
be assured that it is viral
but can spiral
into something worse
a curse or so they say
so take the time to rest
and yes,
drink water and some juice
and for a boost,
vitamin C, 1000 mgs
just twice a day.

and by all means
take your cold to Walgreen, Eckerts, CVS, or Rite Aid,
where there's medicines that might aid and I might add
many brands that you can choose from~
Robitussin stops your fussin'
Advil Sinus for your highness,
by and far my favored Nyquil night-time
is the stuff I get my snooze from

if you've got a fever and it's green
you're infected, should be seen
do not delay if it is grey
or other colors of the day
because these bugs are nasty
downright mean!

cozy up with Vicks upon your chest
mentholatum tends to clear the passage best
a little dab will also do
beneath the nares it is true
external balms and lotions help you rest.

a clean humidifier by the bed
keeps the moisture in your tissues
and that said
keep a box of Kleenex near
the softest kind will feel most dear
and place your favorite pillow 'neath your head.

It's good to keep some chicken soup on hand
it's value has been known throughout the land
keep the heat on, be a ***** and
and crack the window just a pinch
and try to sleep as much as you can stand.

in time you will recover from this hell
your symptoms will subside and you can tell
but be sure to keep your guard up,
avoid crowds
and don't be hard up,
just insist they keep their distance,
and stay well!
g clair Nov 2015
they wandered down the path alone
and hand in hand she longed to own
a place inside his cautious heart
but never told him from the start

the pieces of that puzzle fit
but never did they speak of it
and waiting on the words to say
in time her hair was feathered gray.

but who'd have known and who'd have guessed
they had their time together
they spent their days and both were blessed
in clear and stormy weather

And all this time you'd think she'd know
since everything he did, did show
and almost sure, she'd never ask
but left him to that silly task

the years flew by and they grew old
and still no word of love was told
and in the end he held her hand
and knew somehow she'd understand

they spent their days and both were blessed
in clear and stormy weather
with three small words, she breathed her last
and left him there, together
g clair Sep 2013
they wandered down the path alone
and hand in hand she longed to own
a place inside his cautious heart
but never told him from the start

the pieces of that puzzle fit
but never did they speak of it
and waiting on the words to say
in time her hair was feathered gray.

but who'd have known and who'd have guessed
they had their time together
they spent their days and both were blessed
in clear and stormy weather

And all this time you'd think she'd know
since everything he did, did show
and almost sure, she'd never ask
but left him to that silly task

the years flew by and they grew old
and still no word of love was told
and in the end he held her hand
and knew somehow she'd understand

they spent their days and both were blessed
in clear and stormy weather
with three small words, she breathed her last
and left him there, together
g clair Dec 2015
Love lets go
of whatever it must
in order to remain loving.
g clair Sep 2013
unfortunately, I will not be available to help you pack
as I have premeditated obligations for that day.
g clair May 2014
and unwritten.
g clair Sep 2013
I don't call on trouble, trouble calls on me;
I don't invite it through my door, it's got it's own house key.

Trouble knows my number, it follows in my wake;
at night it whispers in my ear, "it's all a big mistake".

I've learned a lot of lessons, with trouble by my side;
no point in second guessing, there's nowhere left to hide.

There seems no end to troubled times, but count it all illusion
troubles been a dear old friend, and this is my conclusion.

With a good old bud like trouble, there's trouble in the hood;
but I can trust that God is workin' everything for good.
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." - Romans 8:28
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