The Atmosphere Here
Hundreds of billions
of stars in the universe
pale when compared to
the tens of trillions
of nonexistent dollars.
American debt.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
one trillion = 1,000 billion
pictured words
a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
August 16, 2025
August 8, 2025
In the Midst of Crisis
Perrysburg Mercy Health
Thursday July 29, 2025
Keith experienced
classic heart attack symptoms.
Said, “Call 911.”
Very unlike Keith,
and so he didn’t have to
tell me more than once.
A look and some tests
showed no sign of heart attack.
Phew! But what happened?
July 31, 2025
Back in the E.R.
for STAT echo with contrast.
This, our new St. Luke’s?
Medical Test Findings:
He is well nourished.
His reproductive organs?
* Unremarkable.
August 2, 2025
Gallbadder all along?
Back in the E.R.
More tests have resulted in
admission. Thankful.
August 3, 2025
6:46 a.m.
Spoke with Keith’s nighttime
nurse. He slept well. Still no word
on surgery time.
Afternoon
No surgery yet.
First will come more heart tests, then
gallbladder comes out.
August 4, 2025
9:30 a.m.
Nuclear stress test
(a four-hour test) followed by
an echo-something
8:00 p.m.
A 30-minute
gallbladder removal turns
into two hours.
Anterior wall
is the only thing removed.
The remainder is
too attached to the
liver. Apparently they’re
inseparable.
August 5, 2025
11:30 a.m.
After not eating
since 5 p.m. August 3,
Keith is transported
to St. Charle’s to have
surgery 2 in two days –
needs a bile duct stent:
another 30-
minute procedure that took
about two hours. Ugh …
5:00 p.m.
Keith is returned to
his first hospital in far
worse shape than he left.
Suffice it to say,
two surgeries in two days:
zero of ten stars.
After forty-eight
hours of no food or water,
and overheated,
there was ice water
for his throat, behind his neck,
on his head, and chest.
But other than that,
he didn’t want to be touched
not even by me.
He was beyond hot
(take that in every way)
and who could blame him?
August 6, 2025
Now his pancreas
has become enraged. Numbers
have skyrocketed:
Lipase, which should be
between zilch and one sixty
is at three thousand.
Other lab numbers
are also out-of-whack. So,
no discharge today.
Clear liquid diet
is better than nothing, right?
“Nothing” went too long.
August 7, 2025
FINALLY some FOOD!
He had flat, unseasoned eggs
that he loved, loved, loved!
Improving numbers
bring hope again for discharge.
Nope. Safer to stay.
August 8, 2025
Finally discharged!
Though he is still battling pain
and unwell feelings:
He paused at the door
and sighed deeply as he stepped
inside the kitchen,
slowly walked each room,
taking in the sight and scent
and feeling of home –
mentioning details,
like the way the sun glistens
on the wooden floors,
and the beauty of
the hydrangea tree that
graces our window.
We both recognize
how grateful we should be in
the midst of hardship.
We have access to
a clean, modern hospital
filled with good people
who take pride in what
they do – from the surgeons, to
the NPs, RNs,
doctors, LPNs,
those who prepare the food, and
those who bring the trays,
the housekeeping staff,
the various technicians,
and those we don’t see.
The warm smiles and waves.
The patience for their patients.
The words of comfort.
None of these details
went unnoticed, and all were
appreciated.
(c) Marie Elena Good 2025
* Keith laughed hysterically over this aspect of his test results report! HA!
This, not really poetic, is an accounting of this event in the lives of my husband and me. I like to write 5/7/5-syllable poems, statements, observations, or feelings that express my day. This is the collection from what began July 29 with classic heart attack symptoms that ended up being a gallbladder attack.
Just for the record: The long, involved surgeries mentioned were through no fault of the surgeons. Keith’s was just a very complicated case.
I may add more to this as the days of recovery continue. This is my way of recording.
August 3, 2025
Taking Time
Taking Time
Attraction came fast,
but our first kiss took some time,
and I’m glad it did.
First came playful pokes,
but I don’t think folks were fooled.
They saw the romance:
How his blue eyes danced,
and he would conceive a way
to leave together.
Attraction came fast,
but our first kiss took some time,
and I’m glad it did.
First came the warm smile,
with smiling eyes that crinkled
on the sides, and seemed
content as they gleamed,
holding a gaze long enough
to raise my heart rate.
Attraction came fast,
but our first kiss took some time,
and I’m glad it did.
First came the strong hand
that tenderly caressed mine,
and didn’t wander.
First came the strong heart
that tenderly addressed me,
and made me feel safe.
Attraction came fast,
but our first kiss took some time,
and I’m glad it did.
First came what makes me
feel prized. Believe it or not,
it's rubbing noses.
First came music that
always made me think of him.
First came spending time.
Attraction came fast,
but our first kiss took some time,
and I’m glad it did.
First came the months of
proving the worth I thought I
saw. The honesty.
Seeing how his dad
treats his mom opened my heart
to both of these men.
Attraction came fast,
but our first kiss took some time,
and I’m glad it did.
The first kiss took time.
When it came, it came from a
heart of tenderness -
a heart that took time
to make sure it was ready
to say, “I love you.”
Attraction came fast,
but our first kiss took some time,
and now he is mine.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
July 20, 2025
A River Sighs in Silence
Image created by AI
Inspired by “ … and the river spoke in a language without words,” from The Dead of Night, a Measure of Rest after Karaoke by Mike Bayles
A River Sighs in Silence
Once the sky emptied itself,
moved on to another town,
and the swollen river below it
stopped chugging trees
and gorging children,
and the once-bawling waters waned,
the river’s shame released a sigh
too soft
too late for children’s ears
to hear.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
For the children of Camp Mystic, and all whose lives have changed from the recent flash floods.
July 20, 2025
PUMP THE BREAKS after Bob Odenkirk
PUMP THE BREAKS
The whole week is jammed
with to-dos and to-don’ts,
so now is the time
for I can’ts and I won’ts.
I can’t do that thing
I’ve been wanting to do,
when clearly too much
is crammed into my queue.
I won’t take a nap,
‘cause I can’t squeeze it in.
My schedule’s so full,
don’t know where to begin.
To just lollygag
is unthinkable now.
Where once I could loaf,
now my time won’t allow.
No time for some rest,
and I’ve no time to rhyme.
A stroll with a friend?
I’m so sorry – no time.
I think what I need
are some scheduled blank days;
some nothing-to-dos;
some okay-to-delays.
Then maybe my head
and my heart will be free
to do all I need do,
and still spend time with me.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
“The whole week is jammed with to-dos and to-don’ts” from “Lollygagging,” by Bob Odenkirk
July 19, 2025
HOMOPHONE FUN (same sound, different spelling)
Homophones
(same sound, different spelling)
ATE and EIGHT
I ate eight pies
and ate eight French fries.
My tummy says that wasn’t wise.
BARE and BEAR
Does a polar bear
have big bare feet?
They’re covered in hair,
so they’re not bare,
but here’s what’s neat:
They’re big bear feet!
FOR and FOUR
Today’s lunch trade
(a huge upgrade!)
was all my prunes
for four balloons!
DEAR and DEER
My dear,
Though deer can be dear,
let me tell you this, dear:
the deer are still wild, dear child.
They’re beguiling, it’s true,
but I’m here to tell you,
don’t go touching a deer in the wild.
HEAR and HERE
An h on my ear (right here –>___ear) makes it hear.
FLOUR and FLOWER
flour and water
and salt and yeast
all mixed up well
pans lightly greased
and as bread bakes
some flowers are placed
on our table in a vase
our bread is ready
we pour some tea:
a pretty feast for you and me!
HOUR and OUR
We baked our bread with flour,
and prettied our table with flowers,
but we barely had time to chat
‘cause we ate in no time flat,
but our cleanup took more than an hour!
KNOW AND NO
I know you know no means no.
MEAT and MEET
Let’s meet at the meat market at ten.
See you then!
PAIR, PARE, and PEAR
I have two pears (a pair of pears)
that I need to trim (called pare).
RIGHT and WRITE
I need to learn to write right,
right?
THEIR, THERE, and THEY’RE
Their house is there, and they’re there in their house.
TO, TOO and TWO
Person One, to Two and Three: I want to go. Who wants to go, too?
Person Two: I want to go, too!
Person Three: I don’t want to go too much.
Person One to Person Two: Then I guess it’s just us two!
ONE and WON
Two played cards, but just one won.
Which one won?
The winner won!
WEAR and WHERE
We’re going somewhere and we’ll not go there bare,
so we’ll choose what to wear and we’ll wear it!
(c) Marie Elena Good 2025
July 13, 2025
REDEEMED
REDEEMED
Not a trait from birth
nor my own making, but an
unmerited gift.
This gift describes me.
It labels and defines me.
It tells you I’m a
sinner-deemed-sinless,
ransomed by innocent blood —
a debt I can’t pay.
I’m liberated.
Rescued. Emancipated.
Bought back. Paid in full
by Jesus my Lord
with a love beyond measure
for me, and for you.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us.” (From the Holy Bible’s book of Ephesians 1:3,7, and 8.)
July 3, 2025
UNRECOGNIZABLE
UNRECOGNIZABLE
What would I say were you to ask me when
my love of country first had gone astray?
I’d look you in the eye, pick up my pen,
and write my heart as best I can convey.
America, my love for you stands strong,
and that’s why my respect for you has died.
For almost all that once was right is wrong —
now gone the principles that edified.
Once welcoming of those who are in need;
once sticking to the promises you made;
now inhumane, you lie and bleed with greed.
How is it possible you’ve so far strayed?
The question, then, is when I lost respect.
It’s as these vile months in have gone unchecked.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
Just today alone in my country, immigrants began to arrive in “Alligator Alcatraz,” and our “servants” passed Trump’s “big beautiful bill.”
And it is only late afternoon.
June 22, 2025
Our Lady of Mount Carmel Annual Church Festival
OUR LADY OF MT. CARMEL ANNUAL CHURCH FESTIVAL
I’m scorching hot. My clothes cling to me in the smothering humidity. Add to that the people-laden, sticky black tar church parking lot without a shade tree in sight. Ugh.
Yet, the air is saturated with inviting aromas: potent garlic; sweet onion; roasted peppers; spicy Italian sausage; yeast bread rolls; sweet dough twists with cinnamon sugar; cotton candy … and cheese puffs. My cousin Tom and I make a beeline for the deep-fried sweet dough filled with ooey gooey cheese. Yummmmm!
We race toward the Ferris wheel, dodging through the crammed masses and attractions. My nostrils are suddenly assaulted with the fishy stench of smelt. Eew. This booth boasts a line of cuffed pants; brimmed hats; men’s black shoes; and long-sleeved shirts soaked with sweat, each revealing the standard white muscle T beneath. These older Italian men puff cigars (again, eew!) and pass the time in line playing the loud, fast-paced game of Morra.
“Quatro!” (four!)
“Sette!” (seven!)
“Otto di fuoco!” (eights on fire!)
Roars of laughter rise with the cigar smoke above the cacophony of festival sounds.
From a game booth, a hoarse female voice hails, “Roll down, roll down! Six tries for a dollar!”
Various carnival rides summon as well: Creeeek … screeeeeech … tic, tic … whoooosh!
A button accordion pumps out a Polka, accompanied by the “oom pah” of a tuba. We pause to watch smiling couples bob as they step, quick-step, step, hold their way around a make-shift dance floor.
We spot Nonna at the Bingo Tent with an array of cards spread before her, fervently trying to win an “Infant of Prague.” This uniquely Catholic carnival prize is a plaster figure of the jewel-crowned infant Jesus, clothed magnificently in a robe of rich red, royal blue, or gold. Game booths and tents flaunt eye-catching displays of the satiny fabrics, glistening jewels, and outstretched arms of the holy infant. I feel the contrast of Nonna’s satiny cheeks and stiffly sprayed hair as she pulls us close, and presses a quarter into each of our palms.
Continuing to the Ferris wheel, a small stand topped with a six-foot twirling glass of yellow lemonade beckons. Soon soothing icy lemon slush slides down the back of my throat.
I nurse my treat while in line for our ride. Cold sweat drips off the cup into my sandals, and squishes between my toes. A silvery car grinds its way to the bottom of the giant spoked wheel. We hop on, my bare legs sticking to the hot metal seat. Tom slams the safety bar shut, and we rock precariously forward and back.
The car jerks and jolts as we inch up a notch so the one below us can load, and so on –
one
car
at
a
time.
Stuck at the peak, we get a birds-eye view. The setting sun creates peach, mauve, and midnight blue hues. Glistening stringed lights of sapphire, emerald, ruby, and gold crisscross the grounds. Suddenly, my hair flies up and my stomach drops, then settles back in as it grows accustomed to the whirling sensation. For just a moment, I close my eyes and relish the breeze.
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2011
June 22, 2025
THE LAST TIME JOY WAS HERE
The Last Time Joy was Here
The last time joy was here
was in the center of sad
among the angry
in the midst of misperception
and the hub of hunger
during discord
in intense illness
and within the worst worry,
for my Lord never leaves me
nor forsakes me,
and in His presence
lies fullness of joy.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
pictured words 