MASK IN 17 SYLLABLES
Dad used to say, “Don’t
mistake kindness for weakness.”
Good words for these times.
pictured words
a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
November 18, 2020
November 15, 2020
THANKSGIVING, 2020
I should first explain that I went 30-plus years with a severe reaction to butter and chocolate. ONLY butter and chocolate. I know, I know … it makes no sense. For 30-plus years, I have had to be ridiculously careful, because even minute amounts wreaked havoc. When my thyroid was fixed, this went away.
THANKSGIVING, 2020
Buttered potatoes,
and stuffing with butter.
Slather that nut bread
(my heart is aflutter!).
No need to ask
“is there butter in this?”
Now I can happily
fill up my dish.
But now that selecting
what goes on my plate
no longer concerns me,
we can’t congregate.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
November 1, 2020
UNTITLED SENRYU
In these darkest times,
a healing light always shines.
The Son has risen.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
October 25, 2020
NEVER HAVE I EVER
Never Have I Ever
is a party game, where one says,
“Never have I ever ___.”
(fill in the blank)
Those who have actually done that thing
lose a point.
Out of points? Out of game.
I’ll go first.
Never have I ever
seen early-voting lines,
let alone those that extend for blocks,
for days.
Now, how many of you are still in the game?
Truth is,
it’s not a game.
The stakes are high.
The views, dissimilar.
What do you see in the distance?
Hope?
Fear?
A kinder country?
Loss of freedoms?
Peace?
Chaos?
Don’t answer that. Because,
you know,
never have I ever
witnessed a greater loss
of kindness and respect
in discussions.
But, there is a vanishing point
where the look-back perspectives align.
Then we will see, and smile
at the vanity of it all.
In the greater distance, I see
celestial shores.
No lines needed.
We will know for the first time
what it actually feels like to be united.
To have no doubts in our King’s
kindness, love, and justice.
We will know for the first time
what it actually feels like
to be equal children
of the Living God.
To be home.
Never have I ever
longed more deeply
for a non-foreign Shore.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
October 20, 2020
BERNIE HARRIS, July 13, 1952 – October 20, 2020
Catching Bernie in 17 syllables of 5/7/5:
Your playful thank yous
Your throw-your-head-back laughter
Your joy in Jesus
❤
Bernie, it was a pleasure knowing you all these years. You taught so many of us how to be appreciative of every little thing, and that our joy is wholly in Jesus. My heart sings for you, knowing you are now with Him … freed from the body that trapped you.
October 18, 2020
THE BLOB
The Blob was unearthed
in the year of my birth.
It debuted the iconic McQueen.
Still, I’ve not seen a scene
on the cinema’s screen.
(I’ve an awkwardly fragile fright gene.)
But the theme song is neat –
it is hip and upbeat.
For a ‘horror’ble soundtrack, a feat!
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
In case you are interested, here is a link to the theme song. And yes, I feel old! 😀
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=theme+song+from+the+blob&docid=608056112507847468&mid=E4288864AB1DBA1089BBE4288864AB1DBA1089BB&view=detail&FORM=VIRE
October 11, 2020
OCTOBER’S SLICK TRICK
Love autumn with all of my all,
‘cept the end of October’s curveball:
Don’t mean to be mean,
but don’t like Halloween!
(Please don’t spook me or trick me, y’all.) 😉
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
October 8, 2020
VP DEBATE, 2020
This debate was more civil than first.
But responses seemed vague and rehearsed.
Though some orderliness was restored,
Many questions were simply ignored.
Undecideds, I’d just like to ask:
Did you learn who is up to the task?
Or perhaps you just think it’s a crime
that the fly did not get equal time. 😉
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
October 4, 2020
(COUGH, COUGH)
My first job, at The Niles Bank,
I worked between two men who smoked.
The office held a haze that stank.
I wanted to speak up, but choked.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
September 27, 2020
HANDS I USED TO HOLD
I grasped Mom’s finger –
stared into her loving eyes –
my first breath of air.
As a child, always
held her hand to cross the street
and for bedtime prayer.
Sometimes as a teen
I would grasp her hand as we
walked on Naples’ beach.
Elderly, and soon
to pass, she gripped my hands as
though to save herself
as sensation of
falling overtook her, and
she needed grounding.
An honor to hold
dying hands of one who held
my hands in her womb.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
