pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Category: Poetic Asides

FOLLOW THE YELLOW BRICK ROAD

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It wasn’t a twister,
but a whirlwind of words
that whisked me away,
introduced my would-be Dorothy
to this would-be Scarecrow
who blows me away
with his way with words,
as very few can.
Our story began across a lake
and make no mistake,
he’s my partner in rhyme.
He believes he’s no longer
in his prime,
but I’ll tell you this (and you’d agree)
that his prolific poetry
has no specific begin and end time.
And moreover, he’ll turnover
every tune or turn of phrase
to raise the bar.
He’s the pace car.
And he will always be
the poetry man,
to me.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

WHITE SPACE

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Photo from HMbd.org

There is a distance
of point eight miles from my home
to “Indian Hills,”

our name for the site
of The Indian Wars, on
the Maumee River.

Seventeen Ninety
to Seventeen Ninety Five:
The “savages” fought

To save their homes from
American Pioneers
aiming to settle.

Nineteen Fifty Five:
An historical marker
was erected, and

continues to stand
regally, as visitors
are enlightened to

the proclamation
of “peaceful white settlement.”
And there’s not enough

Witeout on hand to
to cover our ignorance,
and there will never

be enough distance
between Seventeen Ninety
and my property.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

Historical Marker of The Indian Wars. 1790-1795, erected in 1955 by the Historical Society of Northwestern Ohio

The marker begins, “When American pioneers attempted to settle the area north and west of the Ohio River, following the ordinance of 1787, the Indians, aided by the British in Canada, fought valiantly and fiercely for their homes in the Ohio country. It required the efforts of three American armies to break the Indian resistance.” It goes on to say, “ … the Indians signed the Treaty of Green Ville August 3, 1795. They were thereby placed under the control of the United States, and the Northwest Territory was opened, in part, to peaceful white settlement.”

And it makes me shudder.

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.

MIDDLE

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Photo credit:  Deanna Marie Metts

Supposed to write a “middle” poem,
but got too much to do.
You caught me in the middle of
a critical breakthrough!

I’m finally centered, finally calm,
and finally bridged a gap,
and now I’m in the middle of
a well-earned little nap.

So, see, I cannot possibly
be writing as I sleep.
But maybe there’s an old poem
in the middle of my heap.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

A WORLD OF NO FORGIVENESS

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Illustration: Quentin Blake/Puffin

“Look at what you has done. And there be no forgiveness.”  (From Roald Dahl’s “The BFG”)

A WORLD OF NO FORGIVENESS

This story begins
not with, “Once upon a time,”
but with, “At no time.”

At no time has there
ever existed a world
of no forgiveness.

We could not go on
without mercy and pardon
for one another,

from one another,
and, yes, also for ourselves.
For our Creator

has built forgiveness
into the very fabric
of our humanness.

How deeply ingrained
is our need for forgiveness?
How deeply ingrained?

How deeply healing
when I myself forgive me?
And again I ask

How deeply healing?
Our God made a way for us
to be forgiven.

Made in His image,
the road is already paved
to forgive others.

Made in His image,
the road is already paved
to forgive ourselves.

So let’s live our lives
in the state of forgiveness
that’s been granted us.

“Look what you has done
and there be no forgiveness,”
and upside-down lakes,

and trogglehumpers,
and dreams that float like fireflies
are just a story.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

Open Apology to a Word I Have Abused, in 5/7/5 Form (a persona poem)

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Image by Gerd Altmann via Pixabay

I have to admit
I’ve been syllabically
abusive to you.

I may call you poem
or po-em, depending on
my need at the time,

not even giving
thought to how this makes you feel.
Please forgive me, poem.

And please understand
this earnest apology
stated at this time

will remain sincere
whether at any time I
choose po-em, or poem.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

Silverstein

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Photo by Alice Ochs/Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

Oh, Mister Silverstein, we need more of you.
Childlike rhymes (not child-like) and
Oddities you drew.

Oh, Mister Silverstein, how we need your views!
Giggling at our differences,
Poopooing the news.

Oh, Mister Silverstein, help us all to see,
Anything can happen, sir.
Anything can be.

Oh, Sister Milverstein, I am just slo bue.
Runny Babbit yisses mou
And I yiss mou, too.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

POSITIVELY NOT

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You’re cute as a button, you mouse,
Discovered today by my spouse.
You’re pudgy and furry,
But you better scurry –
You do not belong in my house!

© Marie Elena Good, 2019
😀