pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

MILK DELIVERY

Uncle Ray delivering milk for Warren Sanitary Dairy 1954

Back in the days of house-to-house milk delivery, Uncle Ray had the greatest technology:  a horse-driven, refrigerated milk cart. The horse knew what she was doing.  She would take Uncle Ray to the first home on the route.  He would grab enough ice-cold milk from the cart for the next several homes.  She would walk the cart to the spot where he would need to grab more milk, and wait there for him. Then along came even newer and greater technology:  refrigerated delivery trucks.  Unfortunately, Uncle Ray was not permitted to turn down the newer technology.  Not only did it make his job harder, but he lost a dear friend and coworker. 

Often new knowhow’s
know how is negligible
or nearly inept.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

THE HEART OF AN OLYMPIAN

Photo by ATC Comm Photo on Pexels.com

Dreams held within resist all hindrances,
As though an iron breastplate shelters it.
Equating fear and doubt as hidden sins,
It will not recognize them, nor admit

Susceptibility may lie inside.  
It soundly strikes a metronome-like beat  
That pulses toward the goal that it has eyed,
Where grueling pain and utter joy may meet.

But when a running water hose crimps tight,
The urgent fix outweighs the aim at hand.
The crimp must be relaxed … And this despite
Whatever lofty plan was in demand.

Olympic hearts are human, in the end.
They’ve earned soft hands to hold them as they mend.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

Aesop’s Barbershop

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

We know much of a fairytale
Of Tortoise and the Hare,
But I can tell you details that
Got lost somewhere out there.

See, Aesop had a barbershop
Where he would share folklore
While snippets of each patron’s hair
Would float from head to floor.

While gleaning nest material
From under Aesop’s chair,
A little bird learned more about
the Tortoise and the Hare.

Not only did Hare take a nap
While racing such a slowpoke,
He also caught a matinee,
And shot the breeze with townsfolk.

He stopped in to the barbershop
To get the latest chinwag.
He wrote it all into his pad,
And stuck it in his bookbag.

That steadfast Tortoise won the race,
Which Hare did not foresee.
How do I know these new-found facts?
A little bird told me.  

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

Untitled 17 syllables (5/7/5)

Photo by monicore on Pexels.com

I’m an introvert.
I feel the need to exit
before I enter.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

The Heart of It All (fibonacci)

Home
Is
The state
Of my heart:
Heart-shaped Ohio.
“Ohio, The Heart of It All,”
Is more than its slogan, to me. It’s a certainty
Born of dappled sunlight, porch swing swishes, marching bands, sure love, and lingering laughter.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

(Bummer. My final line, written in 21 syllables, breaks up on site.)

UNTITLED 5/7/5

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“No more pennies,” we
were informed, and we could make
no cents of this change.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

(Hardly a poem, but it was fun to write!)

INTERVIEW WITH POET ERIN KAY HOPE

Erin Kay Hope



Come check out my interview with extraordinary poet Erin Kay Hope at Poetic Bloomings!

Follow this link: https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/2021/06/03/poet-interview-erin-kay-hope-2/

BENEATH THE MOON OF GOD’S CHOOSING

Photo by Keith R. Good

In the midst of war
(and there is always a war)
lies grim misjudging.
Fear of difference.
Insatiable greed for land.
Resolute loathing.
Dire false impressions.
Grave miscommunications.

And a common moon.

And beneath that moon,
in God’s perfect alignment,
is home to us all.
We’ve food and water
(if only we’d gladly share),
great plains and mountains,
celebrated seas
with unfathomably large
communal mammals.
With microscopic
yet astoundingly complex
sentient beings.
Sands God has numbered
stay in place as our home spins,
not spilling a drop
of the vast waters
that both adorn and provide,
beautify and quench.

And though we do not
tend to her needs (let alone
the needs of “others”),
God gave us this home
brilliantly placed beneath the
moon of His choosing,
populated with
children He chooses to love.
(There are no “others.”}

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

#5-7-5

#lifeistooshortfor

Life is too short for
grudges, shame, ill-fitting shoes,
yesterday’s coffee.

#fivesevenfive
#lifeistooshort

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

JUST YESTERDAY

I loved gardening
beneath sun and deep blue sky
in sensible shoes.

I loved Keith as he
painted old cheap plastic pots
‘seventies Corvettes.

I loved filling them
with flamboyant petunias,
modest marigolds.

I loved settling in,
sipping black coffee, watching
red robins rummage.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021