pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

I’LL BE HERE (sing along! :) )

The_Jackson_5
Right before we got attacked
TP stood in towering stacks,
And I was there. (I was there.)

Can’t reach out my hand to you.
Watching a “washing hands how to.”
Once I was there. (But now I’m here.)

And oooooh …

Orders say I must stay home.
This coronavirus genome
Needs my cells to help it roam.

I’ll be here, right where I belong.
Can’t tag along,
‘cause I am holin’ up (Holin’ up)
Yes I am. Yes I am.

Two O’clock each day DeWine and Acton
Presenting us with some fun and fact’in.
Ohio, we need them. I’m glad they’re here. (Glad they’re here.)

They are here to protect us, (yeah baby)
With leadership that inspires us.
We are tuned in, and they are here. (Glad they’re here.)

Michael Jackson would be there,
but this cockamamie virus
holds me here, in my armchair.

I’ll be here, right where I belong.
Can’t tag along,
‘cause I am holin’ up (Holin’ up)
Yes I am. Yes I am.

If you should ever find more TP,
I hope that you’ll be nice, and share with me.
‘Cause if you don’t,
I can’t pee. (I won’t pee.)

Don’t say no baby!
Spare a square!
Don’t you care?

Just call my phone, I’ll be here. (I’ll be here.)
Don’t look over your shoulders honey, ooh –
Won’t be there. Can’t go there.
Whenever you need me, I’ll be here.

Don’t you know baby,
I’ll be here. I’ll be here
Just call my phone. I’ll be here. (Staying here.)
Ooh ooh ooh ooh Staying here. Staying here.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

HOPE, FULFILLED

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Image by jplenio, courtesy of Pixabay

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look full in His wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace.” From the hymn The Heavenly Vision, by Helen Howarth Lemmel

HOPE, FULFILLED (may be sung)

Dear writer, your hymn born of life’s woes
through blindness and heartache, composed,
gives name to our risen Messiah,
His purpose on earth to disclose.

Turn our eyes to You, Jesus –
Redeemer, Messiah, and Friend.
Give us ears to hear; give us sight to see
that through You, we’re no longer condemned.

Redemption is ours in Christ Jesus,
His death restored life to our soul.
This Sinless One bore our transgressions,
And these “not in part, but the whole.”

Turn our eyes to You, Jesus –
Redeemer, Messiah, and Friend.
Give us ears to hear; give us sight to see
that through You, we’re no longer condemned.

No need to be summoning hope now.
No need to have courage instilled.
No need for our guilt to oppress us,
for Christ is our promise, fulfilled.

Turn our eyes to You, Jesus –
Redeemer, Messiah, and Friend.
Give us ears to hear; give us sight to see
that through You, we’re no longer condemned.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

 

CORONA (a limerick)

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CDC image

She doesn’t observe social distance,
And so we must give her assistance.
So dear human race,
Let’s shelter in place,
And knock her right out of existence.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

I’ve chosen to write daily limericks for Robert Lee Brewer’s prompts, because they are short, fun, and comical. This one doesn’t exactly fit the humor bill as much as I’d like, but it came to me in full. Poems seldom come to me in full, without having to spend time contemplating and playing with the words. So I will share it, here. But my resolve is to keep things light, and hopefully bring at least smiles to our faces, if not downright chuckles.

I also know we will never knock “her” out of existence. But I can dream, can’t I? 😉

And one more thing, if I may: God is not wringing His hands over this. I’m thankful He does not leave us nor forsake us. I’m especially thankful during the most difficult times in my life. Praying we all feel Him holding us through this.

MY SPIRIT’S SONG (a poem with wrapped refrains)

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Image by Colin Behrens, courtesy of Pixabay 

I’ve often said it is no toss
‘tween loss of sight or hearing loss.
for music is to me as bread.
It feeds my soul, I’ve often said.

My heart beats to a melody –
a bond abiding breathlessly
as harmonies are coursing through,
in tune with what my heart beats to.

And I believe when angels sing,
our parched earth sips from worship’s spring
to praise a God we can’t conceive.
They catch my ear, and I believe.

It need not be a “worship song”
to lift my eyes and make me long
to sit upon my Father’s knee,
and see my worries need not be.

Should I not hear jazz beat of drum,
or soothing sound from cello’s strum –
Good Father, hearer of my prayer,
please sing to me, should I not hear.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

 

 

 

 

 

RELATIONSHIP

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This is an age of unbroken connection.
Our fingertips tap into instant links.
We’ve little tolerance for imperfection,
And as our ego grows, our goodwill shrinks.

And in this age of unbroken connection,
Our face-to-face relationships have waned.
Resulting loss of physical affection
May render us emotionally maimed.

Now suddenly a time of social distance
Is thrust upon us necessarily.
Most look for ways to be of some assistance,
And find these ways, extraordinarily.

I’m thankful in this time of social distance
For God, who binds my drifting heart to His.
Our Father God pursues us with persistence.
Be still, and let Him show you who He is.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

Quick note: My last three lines include words and truths from scripture, and from a long-loved hymn, as follows:

“Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” by Robert Robinson includes the phrase of prayer, “Bind my wandering heart to thee.”

The Bible overflows with God’s pursuit of us, including Psalm 139.

Psalm 46:10 tells us, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

MARIE MAYNARD DALY

Nineteen Twenty One:
A Black U.S. immigrant
fathered a female,

born in Queens, New York.
His wife came from a home of
voracious readers.

A Cornell student,
he’d majored in chemistry
until funds went dry.

As their baby grew,
she developed a hunger
for education.

Her mother spent long
hours reading to her from the
books that graced their home.

Books on the subject
of science and scientists
sparked interest in her.

She earned her B.S.,
then M.S., then Ph.D.,
in chemistry … this

making her the first
African-American
woman to do so.

Now a professor
and researcher, her studies
helped to discover

the relationship
between high cholesterol,
and clogged arteries.

Her groundbreaking work
helped to clarify how the
human body works.

Marie M. Daly.
I had to dig to find her.
A treasure unearthed.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

Information and some direct phrasing from: https://www.biography.com/scientist/marie-m-daly

The research I did as a result of Walt Wojtanik’s prompt at Poetic Bloomings ending up helping me discover this amazing woman, right in time for Black History Month.  Thankful!

Second Week of February (an Ekphrastic poem)

newyork-movie

It has been four years
since we nearly lost Izzy,
our grandbaby girl.

It has been two years
since my mother passed on to
the heavenly realm.

Now my son-in-law’s
mother is hospitalized,
fighting for her life.

The second week of
the second month of each year
feels like a movie –

a film I am in,
but choose to view from a safe
distance. Unseated.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

Finding my poetic voice

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A poet and his princess 

In April of 2009,
I shyly met poets online.
But there was one who
would help me break through.
I call him my partner in rhyme.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

I’m thankful for this man I’ve known for 10 years, but have yet to meet.  Without his encouragement, I would never have referred to myself as a “poet.”  I’m not the best poet, and never will be, but I am a poet nonetheless.  Thank you, Walt.  Thank you.

P.S.  This little gal looks like she could brighten the darkest of days!  ❤

 

CRUTCHES

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Photo by Daniel Nebreda, at Pixabay

Call faith what you will –
a crutch, if it helps me stand
on my principles.

(c) Marie Elena Good, 2020

IRONICALLY ENOUGH

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I’m a home body
but sometimes to what degree
still surprises me.

I have no swagger
but sometimes I am staggered
I look so haggard.

I’m now sixty one.
Changes in me equal none.
So why am I stunned?

I’m simply Marie,
and nothing should surprise me.
But “should,” is the key.

No surprise to me:
My prized phrase that has lasted?
“I’m flabbergasted.”

© Marie Elena Good, 2020