Ayden…the gentle love of a brother for a sister

Ayden Krennplayfully wrestling in the bed

mishaps happen, your eyes see red

brother says, “Nadia, you just kicked me in the neck”

reality sets in and expect a train wreck

however, love prevails,

as the tears well up and set sail

sister buries her face in the pillow with tears

“I am so sorry, brother dear”

but the tears keep rolling down her cheek

when Ayden goes beside her and soothes her deep

“Nadia, it is okay, I love you still

I know it was an accident, don’t cry–I love you always, I always will!”

A Day with Nadia, my Granddaughter

1-2011-2649the delightful smile

caressed her face

as we played hide-n-seek

throughout the space

*

we had no toys

except life between

she three … I sixty-two

riding the imaginary dream

*

she structured the game

for us to play

her sense of fairness

was to be obeyed

*

the thrill of finding me

behind the door

caused her to want to

play some more

*

my lotus for the day

mindfulness carried me to my core

love offered, love received

my spirit soared

In Honor of the Servicemen and Servicewomen who have given their lives for the freedom of others

What does it matter?

English: Projected density plot of a redshift ...

English: Projected density plot of a redshift z=2.5 dark matter halo from a cosmological N-body simulation. The visible part of the galaxy (not shown in the image) lies at the dense centre of the halo and has a diameter of roughly 20 kiloparsecs. There are also many satellite galaxies, each with its own subhalo which is visible as a region of high dark matter density in the image. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What does it matter if we are Black, Yellow, Red or White?

What does matter is we allow each other human rights.

What does it matter–if we are Sikh or Muslim? Universalist or Atheist?  Christian, Jew. or Lutheran?

What does matter is that love is our anthem!

We all come from the ONE above…

The One who perpetuates all with generosity and love

What does matter is acceptance of one another

What does matter that I can name you sister and brother

Single, married, divorced, gay or straight

What matters is that love is the gate

Suffering has taken its toll on too many

Out of suffering we lash and spend our last penny

Delve within and seek the truth

Allow love to be the giving booth

Listen deep within the quiet

Breath of the Spirit– our soul’s sonnet

The Wasp Murders

Found under the bench, after we sat down.

Found under the bench, after we sat down. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What happens when woman meets wasps?

Who is the more treacherous?

Who wins when all are dead on the floor?

Who is the more savage?

Monday 19 Sep 2011

***

“I am just an ordinary individual…

With no malice in my heart.

I would ’t hurt a flea!”—as I throw the dart

Isn’t that what they all say?

When accused of the part

Of the murder in the dark!

*

Yet this morning

I must confess to my crime

Murder was the color of my mime

Stealthily I crept into the cold cellar

They all would be dead in no time

Revenge was definitely mine

*

Carefully I plotted

Raising the can of Wasp Killer

A can in each hand of the cold chiller

Pushing the button with frenzy

Poison spewing needing no filler

Yes, yes, the Wasp Murder Thriller!

*

“What have I done!

Now hundreds lie dead on the floor

They fly and breathe no more

Vengence leaving a bitter taste

And I am sick to the core!

There is no vaccine for this sore!

*

All that the wasps wanted

Was to share my home

A corner for that one little cone

But a space I  could not spare

Not to those pesky drones!

No 911 for them to phone!

*

Now, I, left with the guilt

Of my murderous deed,

My treacherous creed

Must weep for these creatures

Savage am I, I must cede!

Compassion I must feed.

the Ocean Swallowed up my Brother

HMS Scylla and Odinn collision

HMS Scylla and Odinn collision (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Roger was 19 and flying high

An Air Force man in the sky

I was only five and still close to the earth

Who would guess there would be a rebirth?

Unexpected the local policeman did announce

Rough and unsympathetic, his life he did renounce

My Mother in her apron, with nine to count,

From her feelings, silently did dismount

In the plane with eight other young men

An engine exploded and took them to their end

For a week, five days no less

The bodies had been laid to rest

Near Iceland, in the cold Atlantic sea

No bodies to bring home, no way to set us free

All were dressed in black

As in the St. Michael’s Church we sat

A strange rectangular box in front

Draped with an American Flag, death hitting us blunt

Carpet Diem*

RIP

RIP (Photo credit: McBeth)

   This poem is dedicated to SUSAN MESSMER, who gifted me with the title of the poem and encouraged me to write it!

                                        * * * * * * * *

The rug lay still upon the floor

No one could ask for more

Years and years it drank up the spill

Family and friends wishing it no ill

Once beautiful and soft

Now an occasional deadbeat moth

Remnants of candyland dotted its frills

Kool-aid and pop that Sara spilled

Artist tints of color that Lara shared

Annie and her fingernail polish with such care

Elliott’s cigarette ashes laying bare

Adorned with their Dad’s long silver hair

Baby Formula from all three

Grandkids next contributed free

Juice, cereal and gummy bears

All so wonderfully, joyfully shared

Coffee from Momma and Poppa did fall

How about that carpenter’s glue on top of it all?

Think of all the footsteps that this rug endured

Absorption of conversation assured

Grandparents, sisters and brothers, and friends

Twenty-five years this rug did lend

All this exuberant life and more

All absorbed by this carpet on the floor

Restless Mississippi…1965

English: Grant County, WI, April 2001 -- Rural...

English: Grant County, WI, April 2001 — Rural Grant County was in deep water because of Mississippi River flooding that affected more than 2,000 homes in Wisconsin. Photo by Grant County Emergency Management (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The winter melted into Spring

Live leaves the water turned

On through Prairie du Chien

The river wildly churned

Lay down Ole Mississippi Old

Lay down you river aged!

Lay down Ole’ Mississippi Old

And cut this bloody rage!

Wild death was its soul concern

No thought for homeless folk

As the restless waves covered them

Covered them like a coffin cloak

Lay down Old Mississippi Old

Lay down you river aged

Lay down Old Mississippi Old

And cut this bloody rage

Like a raging fire it swept on

But the daring humans little cared

If they would only stand and pray

If they would do byt this, they would not scare

Lay down Old Mississippi Old

Lay down you river aged

Lay down Old Mississippi Old

And cut this bloody rage

Threatening river dangers

Moved on in bloody rage

For to it the people’s courage

Was as useless as the prairie sage

Lay down Old Mississippi Old

Lay down you river aged

Lay down Old Mississippi Old

And cut this bloody rage

At last the river surrendered

This frolic,  pleasure chase

And lingered back to quiet tide

To end the fruitless race

Lay down Old Mississippi Old

Lay down you river aged

Lay down Old Mississippi Old

And cut this bloody rage

“Finally,” the people sang in joy,

“The waters have retreated!”

The victory won, they say…

But River thinks the folks defeated.

* * * * * *

© 2012 Jane H. Johann and johannisthinking.wordpress.com
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jane H. Johann and johannisthinking.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Outcast

Outcast-simbolo

Outcast-simbolo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Anawim, the poor,  to God  cry out…

Please,  please hear our shouts

“I’m on the bottom…nowhere to turn…

Help me to discern…with your love there is no earn

Keep the awareness of YOU …God of LIFE…within  us strong

Do not let me capitulate to the wrong

so alone I feel… the pain inside reels

But I know you see and feel my human deal

feelings crashing into the rocks of my mind

God, you know for YOU I pine…

The outcasts of the LORD…To whom do we go?

The outcasts of the LORD…from YOU all love flows…

YOU are there for us… the psalmsist writes

Thank YOU for sending the surviving kite!

* * * * * *

© 2012 Jane H. Johann and johannisthinking.wordpress.com
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jane H. Johann and johannisthinking.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The Prostitute of Notre Dame

Notre Dame de Paris

Notre Dame de Paris (Photo credit: analox & admiréIt was July of 1978

It was 1975

I had entered the great cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris

There in his majestic place of worship

A prostitute sat in the last row…

Breasts overflowing like two bolsters

Her cabrioles stretched wide

Her patinated countenance concealed with ceruse

Yet her person was incised into the pew

Her newel was humanity

Who could hold a candle to her truth

The peacefulness of the sanctuary was a grommet to her soul

Her soul was the finial

I was the trug

* * * * * *

DEFINITIONS: [bolsters (long pillows);  cabrioles (thick fat legs); patinated (weathered look of copperf/bronze); ceruse (pigment composed of white lead); incise (engrave); newel (central post of a circular stairway); grommet (eyelet to protect an opening); finial (ornament at the tip of a lamp); trug (shallow basket)]

* * * * * *

© 2012 Jane H. Johann and johannisthinking.wordpress.com
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jane H. Johann and johannisthinking.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.