#traditions
I am from cold rinks and early mornings,
from spins and jumps before sunrises.
I am from the scrape of blades on ice,
the process of falling, and the ice beneath my knees.
I am from getting back up, and practice makes perfect.
I am from rain and sunshine,
and the stars through the trees.
I am from my mother’s laugh
(“A little rain won’t hurt you”)
I am from walks to the river,
to walks to the forest.
I am from mango trees,
with a sweet summer breeze,
the feel of paper,
lost in a book.
I am from the pages filled with beautiful worlds,
that live in my mind.
I am from tears and laughter and happily ever after.
I am from boardwalks and hotels on little coloured squares,
with colourful paper money and a small shiny cat.
I am from vegan meatball pasta,
and I always want more Parmesan.
I am from stress and dedication,
and the joy of the job well done.
I am from making things perfect,
even when it's not worth it.
I am from visiting grandparents in Ukraine,
comfort and love flowing through my veins.
I am from my grandparents’ beautiful kitchen,
which is always in wonderful condition.
I am from icing and flour,
dough rising for an hour.
I am from daisies and pine needles,
and hazy days in fading rays.
I am from all those moments,
memories and experiences,
that make me me,
a part of the family tree,
evolving and growing,
step by step,
moment by moment.
Feb 3
Feb 3, 2026 at 2:10 PM UTC
(On Christmas we brunch with two hundred and some fifty of our closest friends)
I wish you all joy with your own holiday traditions.
Merry Christmas Everyone!
There’ll be snow‑white bright linens,
crystal that glistens,
and silver that perfectly glows
There’ll be garlands of green
twined with red satin sheen
and shimmering gemlike Christmas trees
There’ll be brioche that’s toasted
apple smoked salmon
and oysters laid out in iced rows
There’ll be cheeses from Roquefort,
baguettes, fruit and camembert,
Bûches de Noël coffee déserts
They’ll be geese gently roasted
and holiday toasting
as the feel of aged cognac grows warm
There’ll be carolers and violins
toys for the children
like secrets tied up in bright bows
They’ll be dancing and laughter
and much happy chatter,
as guests drift-out on their ways home
It’s the joy we’ll remember
long after December..
Hey - let’s do it again here next year!
.
.
A Christmas Playlist for this:
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_13.mp3
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 12:23 PM UTC
my father gave me
three months of his life
but england counted it
as seven hundred pounds.
Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 5:29 PM UTC
And when I was far from home,
in another land, with Travelers who rented about their homes, I remembered you.
I remembered how warm you were.
From one plate to another, my tongue could taste them all.my mother’s fingers kneading dough, separating couscous grains, the annoying heat when she decided to make Mhadjeb.
I could taste every sweet they once made:
Bradj, Baghrir, Kalb El Louz. even the Eid sweets we used to steal at night with cousins and siblings, all of us in matching Jebbas, lying on mattresses on the floor.
We cried from holding in our laughter, gossiping about family drama, who married who, who said what, and our own little dramas too. dancing to our songs:
Chaabi, Gharbi, Staifi, even rai.
How lovely were the times in the kitchen, baking and cooking,while peeking at both our mothers’ drama, and our fathers’ political debates.
I remembered strangers on the street,their humility, their kindness,proof that goodness still exists. And I still believe,
I still believe in the good.
I still believe in you.
So that my childhood will never fade,
I will listen to your songs,
wear your clothes,
drink your tea,
eat your food,
speak to your people,
to never forget
my love for you.
Aug 28, 2025
Aug 28, 2025 at 7:03 PM UTC
A thousand things, frankly. After that, while tempted with the thought of picking out Mr. Mouse by his long tail, I left him to scramble while choosing what I needed, and he proved he could jump straight up and out, saving me the trouble.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMLVI)
Rain pours like t'would be sweet to bide fr'intents
Safe tucked awa' indoors. I maunt avail
Me, sadly, yet what after that detail?
How Grampa's fruitcake's fin'lly baking hence,
My cousin liking that suggestion, whence
I had to make this treat, as if twas bail
For her, the fun we've planned, if Thou will't, frail
As lo, the wreck of mine, tomorrow's sense.
A mouse. An actual grey, live, fluffy fer
The chill, erm: mouse. He's in my food like to
Partake is thus allowed, out on in tour
My deck, until I come, that is. In poor
'Scuse, now he's had some mango, left tae rue
His feast now I want foodstuffs. Jump as t'were
Three feet straight up and I'm left with the view.
29Dec24a
Jan 19, 2025
Jan 19, 2025 at 12:56 AM UTC
My mother gave me a dowry
a brimming chest of treasures
a heart of rare and precious gems
she collected long ago
She filled it with her words, her thoughts
and things she knew I'd need
she piled high with hopes and dreams
priceless trinkets all for me
and topped it off with years of love
and a life of merry traditions
Then knowing that I'd need a map
by which to guide my life
she gave to me a legacy
my Bible, pure and right
and taught to me the art of prayer
a rare and genuine gift she shared
I am blessed to be a mother now
with a daughter of my own
and I can't wait to share with her
the love that I have known
Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 10:03 PM UTC
We all live by the impulse of our minds.
The visions we set pace.
The ambitions we nurture.
The whistle of our missions
And here lies above us,
A bridge we must connect
Oh! Tradition........
An entity that dares; of what spell in our minds.
Crossing the bridge always seems impossible.
Yet, our traditions, mostly laughable.
Sound minds lost to anxiety
Love turns a new leaf of angst
Lives witness it call to death
And yet, a bridge we must connect.
Must we live by the traditions that ruin lives.
Certainly, what I know of
Traditions are meant to serve the people
And not people as sacrifice
For the oath of our traditions.
What a bridge we must connect!
Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 1:12 PM UTC
A tragedy of the world and passage of time
of things that disappear from memory,
a pain i can not fathom.
The ones that die raging in the night,
that are unspoken for
or unheard.
The language of a people,
no longer spoken.
The traditions of a nation,
no longer practiced.
The culture of a family,
erased by time.
Things that have been eradicated
beyond life
and can never be reborn.
Things once so precious
that are almost entirely gone from the world.
How do you reconcile the genocide of a culture?
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 11:44 PM UTC
It is funny how the things that are too much make us feel.
Too much of a bad thing is terrible.
That is understandable.
But what about too much of a good thing?
Too much love.
Too much freedom.
Too much joy.
Why do they scare us away?
Somewhere deep down we feel like we don’t deserve too much.
Just enough.
We feel like we can’t be entrusted with such a large responsibility.
Too many options to choose from.
So many places to travel.
All the foods.
Those of us faced with this dilemma are surely the lucky ones.
--
Perhaps their empathy is what stops them in their tracks.
The knowledge that most people don’t get too much or even enough.
But then again there is another fear, another emotion that stops them.
It is a fear of being seen. Of being judged.
A fear of their own power.
--
It is funny how we can be afraid of our self.
Funny and sad.
Fear of the raw, unfiltered, undiluted power that we all have.
Our upbringing and society’s laws cage us and inhibit our magic.
The lucky ones realize this and do their best to undo the damage.
To free themselves.
The rest live like caged birds.
Singing to please their masters.
To get some food and water.
Feb 7, 2020
Feb 7, 2020 at 12:59 PM UTC
Rose was a Red
Dodgers are blue
We're stealing signs
How 'bout you?
Cheat like this
Not like that
One's okay
The other picked at
Keep to tradition
Not technology
Yeah it's confusing
So is most any ideology
Jan 21, 2020
Jan 21, 2020 at 7:54 AM UTC
The great unbreakable and unscalable walls of yore are not broken.
They just ceased to be walls.
Now just a slightly dumbfounding mist.
You pass through them like a bad smell
because they were never really there.
And those that built them
With ignorance and shame
Are long dead.
They are only an obscure memory of pain, oppression or struggle.
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 6:57 AM UTC
Lights sparkle all around
Presents sit, waiting
Paper covered in sap
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 2:47 AM UTC
Who am I?
Why am I here?
How do I grow?
Where do the words that I utter spring from?
How do my actions unfold to take flight?
What are the roots of my habits both desired and not desired?
When did my character become undesirably ripe?
As defined by Another?
Piously pompous extruding expectations
We both wagged the tail of judgment from our respective roles.
Each casting the wands of incantations, illusions, and lies!
One to change the controlling illusion
Another to maintain it's web and power.
It was handed down from the very first mothers
It was handed down from the very first fathers
It was set into motion from the very first breath of the very first lie.
It created the very first shadow of darkness that fell upon Truth.
Tainted, "It" fell from realms of Light, the realms of Love and Joy.
"It" tumbled and rolled down the family Tree
Branch by branch, twig by twig, and leaf by leaf
Deeper into the darkness, grief, sadness and pain.
We were taught to ignore the dragon of dysfunction
Lying among the branches of our human family tree.
As "It" grew and grew, and grew.
"It" matured and gave birth to expanding prodigies
Who fained deeds of compassion, fained loyalties,
Fained emotions, and fained love
To twist and to alter reality,
Aimed toward total power, riches, and total control.
Using the swords of Expectations,
Judgments, half truths and lies, they waged war!
With their army of
Every wolf in sheep's clothing
Every entitled the fair-haired child
Every hero - rescuer
Every "I am the victim"
Every fearful guilt burdened peacemaker,
Every misunderstood black sheep,
And all the unaware lost lambs.
The cycle of dysfunction turns
As a companion within the wheel of time.
We are told to never speak of It and deny It's existence.
This is the power that feeds It as It expands.
And we find ourselves beyond the ability to contain "It."
One day our eyes open to awareness
We come face-to-face with "The Choice."
Do we go back to sleep? Or do we get up?
And if we stand up, what is next?
When we see our unveiled past, will we fear and hide?
Or arise as a seeking warrior of Light?
If we choose the Light will Love begin to arise from the darkness
Will Love transform "It" to find It's-self Immortal & Eternal?
Give me understanding of Love!! With Understanding I will seek!!
Standing between the windows of time past, present, and future
With the root of addictive desire, laid upon the alter
Banished! Gone!! Released!!
Will the Darkness release "It" from the depths of grief, sadness and pain?
Without a word "It" became a He
And He draped the blanket of courage over His shoulders
with the Light of hope in His eyes.
Refusing to never give up
He dawned His Innate strengths
Refusing dire circumstances
Letting go of confusion, ignorance, vises, grief, blame, and all ill desire
He stepped straight and firmly into the Light which expands!
He stood with joy in the Light and looked back
As "It" became a She
And She draped the blanket of courage over Her shoulders
with the Light of hope in Her eyes
Refusing to never give up
She dawned Her Innate strengths
Refusing dire circumstances
Letting go of confusion, ignorance, vise, grief, blame, and all ill desire
She stepped straight and firmly into the Light which expands!
The Light embraced Her and embraced Him
They stood together seeking understanding
Their hearts opened
Each to sing their own song of joy, of love, of peace
Together in harmony
Dancing in the Light as One.
So with courage, do my actions unfold to take flight!
With joyful Love the words uttered within my heart sprang!
How, I do grow!
I am fully here, awake!
I know who am I, really!
Because in silence I sat upon the earth
As He sat upon the Earth
As She sat upon the Earth
Looking toward the heavens
She female and He male
Focused in silence, they taught me how to breathe.
Now throughout the generations of Time
We began to breathe as One
Together in Love, in Peace and in Unity.
Reaching and holding each other
Beyond and through the Wheel of Time.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 3:41 PM UTC
A son of Adam born anew,
Arrives into a joyous hopeful stage,
Everything set in colors of blue,
Two becomes three on a brand new page,
A son of Adam as he grows,
Has certain traditions to uphold,
None of which he yet knows,
But soon everything will unfold,
A son of Adam as he gets older,
Must bring his molders glory and gold,
To be the brave unrelenting soldier,
To be a savior and above all bold,
Now when a daughter of Eve is born,
The molders have such different hopes,
The loss of a possible son they mourn,
Then soon they begin pulling her ropes,
A daughter of Eve for generations past,
Is a puppet to her family's whims and woes,
Not a rival to the son, she is an outcast,
Never allowed to be bold or oppose,
A daughter of Eve must become a mill,
And produce until she has procured a son,
That is her destiny to fulfill,
Otherwise, society will quietly shun,
A daughter of Eve can perhaps teach,
A son of Adam she has produced,
How not to become traditions leech,
And break the circle of abuse.
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 9:26 AM UTC
I wondered I was one
I always gaze through mind
With great story of time
Eyesore of folks makes me weak
But flint of culture
Make me seek
I was a fledgling
Who just learn to flame
The fire of traditions
I learnt from folks ;
Nothing can fulfill human needs
But calmness is something
That you should meet
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
Traditions are not something to take lightly
Not something that can come and go
Call me old fashioned but like
Sapphires passed through generations
Memories and family
Traditions stand strong in a community built
Respect for those who came before
And a promise for the future
To continue on
Through the hard times we rejoice in knowing what is coming
And in the good we are thankful for what we have
Knowing that it wasn’t always this easy
And that others before us fought for this
We stand on the grounds of community and tradition
Born and raised
Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 12:49 PM UTC
Christmas gifts in cheerful wrappings
Christmas trees with all the trappings
Hoping Santa got your letters.
Yummy family get-togethers.
Nobody wants to go to bed
To let sugarplums dance in their head.
Christmas time is for yearend fun.
The holidays are here for everyone.
It’s a happy time to share the joy
Whether adult or girls and boys
To look forward to, all year long
To join in singing the Christmas songs.
There is no school for many days
So the kids can go outside and play
To ski or have battles with snowballs.
Christmas time is the best of them all.
Some places people go outside and sled
And other people go to the beach instead
But not until they have stopped to see
Each present under the Christmas tree.
"Thank you" is said to all the gift givers
Then a wonderful meal they eat together.
“It’s A Wonderful Life” is showing on TV
And Charlie Brown gets a Christmas tree.
It’s a happy time to share the joy
Whether adult or girls and boys
To look forward to, all year long
To join in singing the Christmas songs.
There is no school for many days
So the kids can go outside and play
To ski or have battles with snowballs.
Christmas time is the best of them all.
Traditions like stockings with the names
And sometimes hilarious family games
Especially when relatives come to call
With eggnog and cookies consumed by all.
If there is snow or palm trees and sand
The best of times have been planned
So everyone can share the great cheer
Now that Christmas at last is here.
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 5:34 PM UTC
'Look up, Pretty lady,
Your gown’s stained, so has your future
For you have cut yourself deep
With values and customs you couldn’t nurture’
Mocked the satirical society hard
Upon every girl that grew up strong
Willed to prove them all wrong
For many a lives laid back
Many a tears seeped through the skin
Until no more did they flow
‘We decide the course of wind
Enough to sail your raft of life
For storms come the path
Of those who drift apart'
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 11:21 AM UTC
oh Sun
i crave to bloom
i want to nourish myself
i want my petals to feel your grace
i wish to dip and dive elegantly
as calm currents turn to riveting ripples
and clean crisp breeze flutters my spirits
yet my roots hold tightly
an age old clasp
love them deeper than the ocean
an inexplicably intricate matter
more complex than the cosmos
protection from wind and drift
clenching me to the same reflection
and i cannot move
so i cannot bloom
dear Sun
i pray to you
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 1:24 PM UTC
i am struggling
my sense-seeking mind, reasons
with my confused, but forgiving heart...
to go, or not to go,
to do...or not to do,
go with traditions...or start a change,
to abstain...to be absent,
.............and...be ******
this battle exhausts me...though,
i know...at any time, whatever i do,
especially, this lenten season
God is everywhere, i so feel Him,
He is near me.....as i think of Him...
it doesn't make me less of a Christian
i just have less things to do
this thursday, friday and saturday...
for, i opted for something else:
in my solitude, i would have---
M-ORE time...........to reflect.....to
E-NGAGE in contemplative thoughts...to be strong, to
A-VOID all kinds of meat i so hunger for....to not be
T-ROUBLED, when tremors of the soul, seek to destabilize...
I know myself...i've come this far,
traditions may change, things may falter,
but, never...my Faith in Him.....
Sally
Copyright April 14, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 10:20 PM UTC
Once I believed in Santa
And the north pole was real.
The lights on the Christmas tree
Could change the way I'd feel.
The standard kind of carols
Still make me reminisce
When everyone got friendly
And cheeks were happily kissed.
Sure, as I got to be older
Most of my gifts were clothes
But there were still lovely things
For eyes, and ears and nose;
The smell of turkey baking
And pecan and pumpkin pie.
Christmas music on the radio
Those Christmases gone by.
And later we went caroling
Some friends of me and mine.
We sang in lovely harmony
We all sounded very fine.
Back at home with egg nog
We often played Monopoly.
We laughed and told jokes
A happy Yuletide family.
As time went on we changed
And some old traditions fell.
We threw out the silver tree
And tinsel went away as well.
We started to add to our growing
Collection of handmade things.
The colorful lights still twinkled
But the angel no longer had wings.
Times have gotten busier
So tempting to avoid the trip
But it’s only this once a year
So we don’t let this visit slip.
We keep these memories going
And talk about them each year
When the family comes back
For the holidays from far and near.
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 3:56 PM UTC
My dear haegeum,
You sing so beautifully,
You sound like a dream to me,
You are so very magical!
I'm only telling the truth,
When I say, I love you,
You are an instrument created by a Miracle,
How can I appreciate you more?
But to write these words about you,
And introduce you to the world,
The magical musician,
Tickles your strings,
And
Your two silk strings,
Tickle my ears with your eight voices,
The sounds of the Universe,
Gold, rock, thread, bamboo, gourd, soil, leather, and wood,
My dear haegeum,
You sing so beautifully.
Copyright © 2016 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
*The haegeum is a traditional Korean string instrument.
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 10:42 AM UTC