NaWriPoMo: #6 Chemistry and #7 Lullaby

Yes, I missed writing a poem yesterday, but I think I had a great start with multiples, so it is okay. Here are 2 more #6 & #7. I did write another one, but it is so personal I’m opting out of posting that one.

Weak Bonds

A bond that is a weak bond

Can be taken over

By something so small

And it breaks

Shattering the element

Changing the purpose

The chemistry cooks

Smoking to rise

And fill the lab

Till heads turn

“Did you do that right?”

“I checked everything”

“It shouldn’t be doing that!”

And neither should you

Love’s Lullaby

Go to sleep

And goodnight

Grandma Emily with our baby boy

Goes the tune

Played out of sight

In the silence

Came the tinny tune

It brings back memories of you

As a babe

Super soft and sleek

In your dreams we dreamed

Of how you’d speak

How you’d walk,

Or write with chalk

On a blackboard or sidewalk

How we’d lead you always

We’d go ours and you’d go your ways

We knew as we sang goodnight to you

That we would take you to the zoo

You would never be blue

We would let you choose

You would fit in our shoes

But you are a grown up lad

Sometimes you get very mad

Sometimes you are also sad

We are glad you aren’t bad

You are our happy child

You aren’t that mild

You sing to us

If we fuss

We have a love that

Will never bust

NaWriPoMo: #6 The night before my big test!

The night before my West E Special Education Test. Not the best poem, but I've got other things to think about!

Tested

North, South, East, West,

The sun sets on tests,

I thought I had left them behind

And they were the farthest from my mind,

And yet, tomorrow, I’m to be vetted

We’ll see if I’m best to get it

I think I am and I want to shout

That tests with facts are not always the route

That one learns the material

It comes from eating cereal

With a child who tests you

You have to see him through

So you pull on those boot straps

And fill in your wide gaps

To remember what you think

On the test won’t make you sink

You prepare tonight

With all your might

Hoping for your very best

On this blasted test

It isn’t your first

And it won’t be the last

You will pass

Yes, you must last

It is only a test

NaPaWriMo: Poems 3, 4, & 5 Moons, Autism, and Night Lectures

So, I wrote the first just after midnight looking at the bright moon outside my window and trying to capture it. The second is my annual “Ode to Autism” as it is National Autism Awareness Day. Every day here we are so aware…And the third poem is about our wonderful boy!

Moonstruck

Bright as day at night

You float above on black velvet

Where curtains open and close

Like a madcap comedy

That zings from scene to scene

Until the theater goes dark

One huge puzzle piece cloud

Is put in place and snap!

The picture not revealed

But gone

No stars because the puffy

Parachutes fill the night

Like an army attacking

In silent formation

They snuff out enemy light

Rays of silver seep out of the corners

Breaking up the cracked picture

And the army is blown by a blast

Of pure white light that

Illuminates all things on the ground

In the air and all around

To make plain

The plan of night

The outline of what is there

And can’t be seen at night

It is clear as dawn

As a perfect circle

Magnifies by moonlight

The misty droplets of luminesce

Lingering lazily in the lamplight

In the Heart of the Matter

What it is and isn’t

What it tis and tisn’t

It rules with those that love rules

And some lurch and drool

Some it causes greatness

Some delay or lateness

They all develop

They are enveloped

By a thing called autism

Some hate it

Others claim it

The syndrome

Seems to roam

And call home

To so many

Therapy costs

A pretty penny

All bought

To help plenty

To support this thing, autism

It is separate or whole

People take polls

To determine

If it is vermin

Or gut chlamydia

Food allergies

Genes or invidia

Where is it from this autism?

It shapes

It scrapes

It makes

It molds

It surprises

It rises

It is inside

It can hide

It is a part

Each one has a heart

That is where we start

To understand autism

Little Professor Lectures the Night

Your voice is just audible behind that door

As you speak with peaks rising and falling

You seem to be stalling

But I know you are soothing

Smoothing the way

For night’s delay

To come and put you down

As you go under the current

Of your own flowing speech

That rolls over and around you

Surrounding you in a blanket

Soft, warm, and worn

A groove that you scratch

Deeper into the surface

Till you bleed the facts out

Into your dreams

To keep you company

And dawn awakens

Your brain drained

To be filled to overflowing

During the daylight

Where you gather, grind

Filling your mind

With many a tiny detail

That computes, commutes

You to another place, time, space

Till you sink into your bed

Resting that busy head

Through a lecture of words, words, words,

Take flight like birds

To nest no more

Happy Easter & NaPoWriMo 2018! Poems #1 & #2

It is April and National Poetry Month. Here we go again with 30 poems in 30 days. I think I’ve been doing this since 2013. I usually end up with more than 30, but I’m in grad school this year and we’ll see how it goes.

I give myself 10-15 minutes to work a rough draft and 10 more to edit and then post it. It is a good workout every year of stretching my imagination muscles. I hope you enjoy reading and take a stab or two of a poem of your own!

Indeed

It sounded like a sneeze, indeed

I didn’t know it indicated complete

The word was on repeat

Throughout my childhood

I caught the flash it lead

The blood that washed not red

Bleached white from black

It brought me back

To the how

I whispered, “Are you there?”

I wanted you to care

But dead, I wasn’t sure

You were the cure

Until your power rose

Up from and over descending

There was a rising or extending

That reached from birth to death

It gave me breath

Again to sing

Conquered my shivering

It ceased the trembling

The quakey-achey heart

Reached down into parts

Unknown

Up from the grave he arose

Like a mighty triumph ore his foes

The Victor who vanquished

My sins he languished

Away they slipped

Forever ripped

Asunder

Nobody’s Fool

The first day of forever

Stretches far as blue open sky

No clouds

The storm passed us by

A chaser saw the eye

It was a man, part God,

Who was born humble

Crawled, bawled, slobbered, waddled,

Unsure learning to walk

Talked one word at a time

He was man

Talking in the temple to his elders

Working with his hands to wood

Getting splinters and when cut bled

His hands rough,

His sweat and dirt

Came off with water

He got hungry

And when thirsty drank

A mother told him his birthright

A story of an angel who told her

She would hold him briefly

God told him from Heaven

When he was old enough to comprehend

He knew he didn’t blend

He found friends

He told them to follow

He led, even though

Some said, “He’s out of his head”

He kept on stepping onto the path

That he knew would kill him

There was life at the end

For his friends

For his foes

For those that wait

He came

He saw

He went

He rose

And he comes again

On his 60th birthday, poems by my brother David

David L. Walton passed away in late August 2012. He is with his Savior now and I’m sure so happy. Here are some of his shorter perplexing and not so perplexing poems. There are some that are many, many pages, but I won’t be transcribing those here. Happy would be 60^th birthday, David!

 

Imagery

Thing flashing through

Making something where nothing is…

Imagery.

Bits and pieces

All came together

About the formation

That is the jig-saw puzzle

Around this creation of thought.

Throughout the wake

Formed in disturbances

To the image-pools

Droplets of ideas

Breaking free…

Recoalescing into the pools new images

A new creation-----

Imagery.

The Walton Paraphrase of Desiderata

Go quietly, speak clearly, and listen faithfully.
Don’t compare for you can’t change what you are.
Pay care to yourself, be cautious, look for virtue.
Be yourself, be real, don’t be cynical about love.
Learn from the years, grow in spirit, let imaginings not affect you.
Be flexible, admit your limitations, things are working out as
planned, be at peace with the planner.
Be at peace with yourself, the world is still a beautiful place,
Work to realize your potential and the joy of its realization.

Photo of David taken by Elanna Bat Levi-Ya'acov in her kitchen.

Can’t Play But I Can Sing

Fun it is to me

Not to play

But to sing

Seems so weird to me

In these days

Where everyone plays and sings

I just like to sing

Don’t know how what to play

But I’ll sing the blues

Paradise: The Ideal

Paradise the place of eternal bliss

The place where souls can exist

In serene peacefulness.

Yet not have to reminisce

Of olden days of long ago

But live in joy

Of tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow.

But reasons for their

Being there were not

Safe life and limb

Or just because

They’re them.

Tragedy, troubles, sorrow,

And suffering

Are reasons why

They be in Paradise.

Enduring pleasure

For all eternity,

They found the key

The answer to life

Twas living, abiding in Christ.

Taking, accepting, and living

Through Him forever

This is Life.

But on to the gayes.

Things of Paradise above

Of golden auras

And the like

That’s never seen

Of pace serene.

There is an ideal

Of what Paradise

Should be like.

But it is much

Like a garden land

Of lamb and lion

Hand in hand.

Perhaps like earth

I do not know

Except no war

Or want of more.

No hell on earth

Or impure soul.

A Utopia

Never filled

Light and peace

Abundance too

All for me

And you and you.

Tis’ true

One can’t

Earn his way

To Paradise someday.

I cannot hope

To comprehend

Or understand

This celestial thing, Paradise.

That man may

Dream and some

May dwell

Like someday

Some souls will.

And hope

And pray

And someday win

The weak bottle

Of weak men.

Of cleansing

Of that soul

Of mine.

Coming to

That lofty plane

Come to Paradise

Once again.

Shot Through the Heart

February 14, 2018 I couldn’t settle down until I wrote something. A shooting in South Florida high school today were 17 have died and more are injured and some critical. A 19 year old disgruntled student came heavily armed to campus with one intent to kill and wound as many as he could. He was able to buy the guns easily.

Other countries have banned certain types of weapons being available to the public, why can’t USA get its act together? It might make going to school less deadly. This poem is rough and not perfect, but this day was very rough hearing about another school shooting.

Shot Through the Heart

Distracted by love and the lack thereof,

As children and teachers run,

but are stunned to be blasted apart,

to depart this Earth way too soon.

Ashes to ashes and dust,

blown away in smoke rings round the school

this is not the golden rule.

Senators sit back

rocking back far on chairs

they have challenged “unfair” and “don’t take our guns!”

Like schoolboys waiting for class to dismiss

they think it is flack

as public cries out something is amiss

nothing is done

The people stunned awake

as those with power sleep

We give and they take

and bodies are buried deep