pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
May 22, 2016

BROKEN

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“DESCENT OF THE DEPREDATORY” BY DEANNA MARIE METTS

 

Two decades passed
Since liquor last passed my lips.
Past pain eclipsed my gain;
The ache of wounded heart
Returned again to tear apart
My fragile strength.

Now what lengths will I go
To hide the flow of the drink;
Make everyone think I am well?
Well, I’m not.  I’m fraught
With what brought me here.

I can’t disappear.  Couldn’t then
When men, cavalier, had their way –
Reduced me to prey.

Two decades erased
With a taste.
My wholeness now broken,
“Just take me,” unspoken,
While hades trades truth for a snake –
With each sip I take,
I break.

© Marie Elena Good, 2016

“With each sip I take, I break” is actually a partial line from Peaceful Easy Feeling by Walter Wojtanik.

(Not to worry about me, friends.  This is fiction, though sadly loosely based on the plight of someone dear to me and for whom I daily pray.)

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May 18, 2016

UNTITLED RYŪKA FORM

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After school, two five-year-old boys
Hug and cry in the parking lot
As one is moving far away
And how would it be possible
To span that large of a distance
When you are two five-year-old boys
Whose parents are not acquainted
And all there is left to do is
Hold each other and cry

© Marie Elena Good, 2016

Photo credit: Pixabay.com

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May 15, 2016

INVENTION’S FOE (a Sonnetina Tre)

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Photo credit: shutterstock.com

 

What right have I to claim a poet’s heart?
What write have I inside this heart I feign?
What depth of wisdom have I to impart,
Or story that’s not dreary, nor inane?

Perfectionism is invention’s foe:
Methodically it stalls, then stops me cold.
I want to breathe and let the words just flow –
Exhale a poem exquisite to behold.

My only hope to fight perfection’s sway?
Curl up in something soft at end of day.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2016

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May 11, 2016

WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN

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A semi swerves.  Suddenly,
We’re face-to-face, in my lane.
A dozen scenarios
Run through my mind;
Weighing my options.

Though it seems like forever,
It’s a flash. And just like that,
It’s over.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2016

BOKETTO FORM (created by Walter Wojtanik of Poetic Bloomings):

Describes a moment in time.
Two stanzas.
First stanza syllable count: 7, 7, 7, 4, 5.
Second stanza syllable count:  7, 7, 3.

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May 10, 2016

YAWEH ELOHIM

YAHWEH ELOHIM

Photo by Keith R. Good

This is the first time I have posted words gleaned from someone else.  I created this little site to be a place to pair my own poetry with images from others … but these words from my pastor so richly and deeply touched me, I wanted to share them here.  As is often the case, one of my husband Keith’s photos serves as a perfect backdrop.

If you do not know this Yahweh Elohim Pastor Kain speaks of, I would be honored to introduce Him to you.  Feel free to leave a comment below, with a way to get in touch with you.

Marie

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May 8, 2016

MOTHER OF ALZHEIMER’S

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Photo by Themes.com

 

Who birthed (unearthed)
This unwelcome invasion,
Or gave it the right
To hijack each occasion
Meant to endure and assure her
She’s loved. She belongs.

It ceaselessly wrongs her,
Assassinates her senses;
Condenses her being
To fleeting moments,
Thought amputation,
Self dislocation,
And few kin.

And it will win.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2016

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May 4, 2016

LOST, BUT NOT AIMLESS

 

LOST BUT NOT AIMLESS PHOTO JACKIE MEIER

Painting by Jackie Meier

I believe in small government. I love my Uncle Sam, but don’t trust him to use our taxes effectively, efficiently, or fairly to benefit the needy among us. I believe in the heart of the American people to nurture the disadvantaged, and I don’t begrudge those who have much.

I believe in lifting our lamp beside the golden door. I believe that lady in the harbor meant what she said, and knew that big hearts win in the end.

I’ve always looked right for my compass, but I’ve become disoriented.

I don’t recognize the mercenary face extending a deceitful hand to haul me down a freeway that is not free, and is not the way.

And yet …

Don’t talk to me about turning left at the intersection. For there I see a self-aggrandizing dragon that breathes intolerance even as it feigns open arms.

Don’t talk to me about moderate. A little of this and a pinch of that have no home – no place to rest their head or raise their voice.

Lost, but not aimless … and not alone.

“In the LORD’s hand the king’s heart is a stream of water that he channels toward all who please him.” ~ Proverbs 21:1

© Marie Elena Good, 2016
Jackie Meier:   ( https://www.facebook.com/JackieMeierPaintings/?fref=ts )
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April 20, 2016

Ours is not a Fairy Tale

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He’s not Prince Charming – nor I, Snow White.
He’s loved me, not as spell-bound knight
in dreamy woodland’s moon-spilled light,
nor magic-carpet star-strewn flight.

A quiet man who’s loved me through
the ugliness real life can brew.
No fairy tale – More trials in queue,
This noble man fulfills “I do.”

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2016

Happy 25th, Keith.  Though ours is not a fairy tale love, it’s far deeper than enchanted storybook romance.  I love you and thank God many times per day for you.

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April 14, 2016

Oh, For a Crown to Return

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PHOTO BY REBECCA TRUMBULL PHOTOGRAPHY

A tortured, thorn-crowned costly love –
Above, sun-darkened firmament.
Below, the Man on cursed tree hangs –
Birth pangs of earth. A curtain rent.

My Lord became my sin for me –
His skin was scourged; His soul besieged.
His Father turned His face away –
Their plan unchanged since first conceived.

What great a sacrifice was made –
The price was paid, unmerited.
For though I’ve sinned against my God,
His riches I’ve inherited.

Implausibly, He holds a crown
For my unworthy head to bear.
But I will lay mine at His feet –
My heart replete; my answered prayer.

© Marie Elena Good 2016

When Jesus came out wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe, Pilate said to them, “Here is the man!” ~ John 19:5

 I am coming soon. Hold fast what you have, so that no one may seize your crown. ~ Revelation 3:11

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March 24, 2016

CHRIST

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Christ Jesus Messiah
Humbled Himself, taking the form of a slave
Regarded others more highly than Himself
Innocent, He bore our sins
Sacrificed in life
Triumphant in death!

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