Daily Work

Paying Homage to Corona

As we continue various stages of stay at home/lockdown/quarantine humor/coping mechanisms abounded. Two poems came out of some of the humor, although the second one may not really be that funny. The first poem “With Apologies to Paul Simon” will have more meaning if you know the song “Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard.” While you might smile a bit at the story without knowing that song, this poem will make much more sense if you’ve heard the song.  The second poem “The Name Game” deals with a really bad practice of naming kids after disasters. That being said, the last line leaves me with a measure of hope, as I hope it does for you.

With Apologies to Paul Simon

I called Jules
He was bored too
We decided to go to school
Shoot some hoops
Get out of the house
We met on the way
We walked
We talked
He bragged
I rolled my eyes
“If you beat me, Julio,”
He hated it
When I used his
Real name
“It will be the first time.”
We laughed
Then we saw her
Shooting hoops
All alone
“Come join me,”
She waved.
“I’m Rosie.
Who are you?”
I hesitated
Then urged Julio
To keep walking.
“It’s against the law,”
I muttered.
“Just keep walking.”
The Name Game
And so it begins
The name game
Cute names for twins
Like Covid and Corona
Names the kids will live with
Live down
Put up with
Endure
The sick jokes
The teasing
Perhaps some day
Someone will ask
“That’s an interesting name
Does it mean anything?”
My writing

April Camp – From Songs to Poems

I know I’ve been silent here for a long time. It’s been hard getting out to do bird pictures. I’ve been doing more editing than writing, although I just finished a short story for an anthology. I was going to do something completely different for NaNoWriMo April Camp and work on writing some songs. That hasn’t happened yet. But I’ve written a couple of poems. One relates to Isolation, specifically from our experiences with COVID-19, and the other relates to Good Friday. So, I thought I’d share them….

Isolation

No man is an island
Or so they say
That was then
But in this day
The crown spreads throughout the land
A tyrant, demanding tribute and sacrifice
And so
To foil the evil monarch
We separate ourselves
And build walls
Longing to tear them down
We burn bridges to keep him away
Looking to the day
We can build them once again
Necessity may be the of invention
But it’s the wicked step-mother of isolation
And so we sit
Alone
Behind walls
Bridges burnt
Waiting for our glass slipper
That will destroy the crown
And free us from our slavery

and the Good Friday theme…

Who Did This?

The day grew dark
The Son of God hung
Dying
On the cross
I fell to my knees
And cried out
“Who did this?”
He looked at me and gasped
“Father forgive them.”
I heard them mocking
“If…If…if…”
They called out for miracles
Expecting nothing
He looked at them
“Father forgive them.”
Even those hanging beside
Laughed at Him
No matter that
They shared the same fate
Until one changed
And He forgave
I remember the day
That God the Son
Died
For me
I though of all I’d done
And then all He did
And He forgave.

I think sharing poems is the hardest kind of writing to share because they’re written without the barriers we can use with more words. Sometimes I look at them and think about how dumb they are – then someone tells me how much they meant to them. I hope these touch you. They mean something to me and I hope that you relate to the emotions.