pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

I’ll Wanna Go Back!

DrumMajor_ToledoBlade

Image from TBDBITL.OSU.EDU

The following poem is inspired by, and to the tune of, “I Wanna Go Back to Ohio State!

I was born near the good ‘ole Ohio State
in old Columbus town.
It’s been sixty years, and I’ve not stepped
inside The Shoe, but oh I’ve kept
that stadium on my bucket list –
I surely can’t resist!
It’s one of just two
of things I must do
O-H-I-O!

O-hiiiii-o!
O-hiiiii-o!
Your band is unsurpassed! (O-H!)
Your football team, unmatched! (I-O!)
O-hiiiii-o!
O-hiiiii-o!
This weekend I will see my Buckeyes “live!”
And I’ll make sure there’s not one nanosecond missed!
And when I’m home I’ll put you
right back on my bucket list!
O-hiiiii-o!
O-hiiiii-o!
You know you’ll go back on my bucket list!

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

This weekend, I look forward to scratching off the first of only two items on my “bucket list” … Go to Ohio Stadium (AKA The Shoe) to experience THE Ohio State University Buckeyes football team and marching band (AKA TBDBITL!)!

The only thing that would make it better is if Dad was with us.  Love and miss you terribly, Dad.  High five GO BUCKS!

I Hear You

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Photo by Keith  R. Good

The song of love
when your eyes go soft.
Questions that beg response
in the furrow of your brow.
Curses
in the setting of your jaw.
Sincere contrition
in your entire countenance.
Lines from Moonstruck
in the sudden glint of your eye
and grin of your lips.
“You look good,”
in the slight lift of one brow.
More clearly than your voice,
I hear your face.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

FOUND POEM

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The yellow stickies
with black ink I love yous, are
poetry enough.

(c) Marie Elena Good, 2019

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

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Don’t like my string cheese stringy.
Don’t care for fishy fish.
Don’t want this squash-y thingy
that’s squishing in my dish.
I’ll take my eggplant scrambled, please,
with not-too-toasty toast.
I feel so sad for black-eyed peas,
and for the poor shanked roast.
My coffee grounds me just enough
to move on with my day,
but navigating it’s still tough.
Will curds show me the whey?
You’re nuts about my pecan pie,
but beef about my stew.
And I just chuckle, and here’s why:
It’s so fun ribbing you.  😉

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

SUMMER FAIR

“Let’s rhyme,” he says, and so I do
of summer fairs and barbeque,
with marching-band parades uptown,
and small-town smiles all around.
The carny folk that drew you in
with big stuffed prizes you could win,
but off you’d go with some cheap toy
you’d carry home, but not enjoy.
Yet nonetheless, you’ll reminisce,
and I will guarantee you this:
That you will wish you were still there:
that child at the summer fair.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

MY LORD AND MY GOD

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Photo by Keith R. Good

When I breathe my last
I will see You face to face,
and life will begin.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

PARTNER IN RHYME

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It is no small thing
to call yourself a poet.
Thanks to you, I do.

MOM (a tribute)

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I.
You told me of the love in my eyes for you
when you first held me in your arms
the day I was born.
Is it any wonder.
I knew you, and had already experienced
the gentle warmth that was you.

II.
All my friends thought me the luckiest girl
to be able to call you mom,
even though you didn’t tolerate misbehavior
or disrespect. They saw the love right through
the discipline.  I tried to emulate you,
but it seems that isn’t the same as
it being a part of who you are.

III.
I saw how the mention of you
brought warm smiles.
Your gentle demeanor,
laughter, and love
were contagious.

IV.
I understand being an introvert,
and I ponder with amazement
how you dealt with that part of you.
You could have written a “how to,”
I believe. I understand more and more
the sacrifices you made.
The way you encouraged others,
and always had a kind word to offer.
The way you treated everyone
with the same level of respect.
Fiercely loyal to those you were closest to,
in ways that had to have been draining.
But we didn’t see that you were drained.
You would simply go “rest [your] back
for a few minutes,” or “rest [your] eyes.”

V.
You were my moral compass,
and still are.  I feel your nudges.
I hear your gentle voice. I pray
I inherited more of you
than I see in myself.
From womb to death,
and now beyond,
I thank God for the blessing
of you.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

All About the Love

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Dad was a teacher, a band director, and a professional musician.  In all of these professions, he was my father.  I was always learning in his presence.  He gave everything one hundred percent.  I hear, in his voice: “Nothing great was ever accomplished without enthusiasm.”  “Take it with you.  If you need it, you’ll have it.”  “Do your best.” “Practice right.”  “Never look back.  Just move forward.”  “No regrets.” “Love is the most important thing.”

All of it, important.  All of it, useful.  All of it, wise.

There were times I was privileged to witness him at his core.  Times that planted pride and love in my heart that I can hardly express. One of the things that made my knees weak came very late in life.  I was sitting with a now extremely fragile man who was watching the love of his life slip slowly away, due to Alzheimer’s.  “I’m not sure how to handle the coming day when I go to her room to kiss her goodnight, and she doesn’t know who I am.”  My heart.  The conversation was one of the hardest of my life.  But also one that showed me he was still, in his elderly and fragile state, my father.  As we talked about dark days ahead that could begin any moment, he gave me advice that encompassed all he was:  “No matter what happens, remember her love.”

Love enthusiastically.
Love takes practice.  Practice daily.
Take love with you.  If you need it, you’ll have it.
(You’ll need it.)

Thank you, Dad.  Thank you.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

WHERE LIES MY INTEREST?

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Photo by Keith R. Good

When I was a child,
I loved to pretend.
The “what” mattered little,
As it was all in the imagining.

As a young adult,
I loved to garden,
Bicycle, and hike.
The “where” mattered little,
As it was all in the doing.

As a now-older adult,
My passions are to
Pray, write, and ponder.
The “why” matters much,
As it is all in the love.

©  Marie Elena Good, 2019