And This is Love
And This is Love
No need for Hallmark-
gold-sealed card with fancy words
that someone else wrote.
I’ll take morning jokes
and/or hand-drawn hearts on a
yellow Post-it Note.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
pictured words
a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
May 25, 2025
May 4, 2025
S*U*R*R*E*N*D*E*R
S*U*R*R*E*N*D*E*R
Me, a young girl in
a whirlwind of sudden change.
Strange new surroundings.
Unsure what is real,
or who, in this new-to-me
space, can be trusted:
One who stands rusted;
one too timid to answer;
and you, straw dancer.
They win me over
(especially you), and they
chauffeur me to Oz
because, because, be-
cause, because – because they’re there,
and they care. Deeply.
Green skin. Broom. Smoke. Threats.
And me, tricked. I lost my friends
when I clicked my heels.
But to my surprise,
I see you in these eyes I’ve
always known, at home.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
April 20, 2025
The Heart of Golgotha
“And heaven’s peace and perfect justice kissed a guilty world with love.” ~ Dyma gariad fel y moroedd
The Heart of Golgotha
Before He stepped foot,
He knew the path: Golgotha,
“the place of a skull.”
He knew it, for He
had formed it. Created it
with God His Father.
Before carrying
the crossbeam on this long path,
He created it
before man became;
before woman, born of man,
bore The Son of Man;
before the first sin
had ever been committed,
or life led to death,
and before you were
formed in your own mother’s womb,
He knew you, and He
chose you, and He chose
the horrific path He’d walk
and death He’d conquer.
It was a matter
of turning your face to Him;
of loving you first.
It was a matter
of bonding your heart to His,
for eternity.
© Marie Elena Good, 2025
“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” ~ John 15:13
April 13, 2025
As I Stop at the Light
As I Stop at the Light
She, with little to her name, fumbles a moment in her purse, rolls down her window, and hands money to the man with the sign she can’t read. He thanks her, and says, “God bless you.” All she understands is his smile, which she returns with a nod of her head. She rolls up her window. I place my hand on her shoulder. She smiles at me, and I at her.
And how could I have
immediately known her,
if not for the light.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
April 12, 2025
Untitled angst
If not for nations
coming to my own doorstep,
I’d never know them.
I’d never have seen
they’re here to feed me the food
that comforts their souls.
I’d never have seen
they’re here to make my home both
strong and welcoming.
They’re here to make us
kinder. Gentler. Here to make
their own lives better,
but also the lives
of all those who welcomed them,
and those who didn’t.
I want to save them
from the strangling hands of this
administration.
If not for Donald,
would Vance, Rubio, Musk, Noem,
and all the others
be so emboldened
to heartless vindictiveness
and mercilessness?
If not for clear signs
from history (you know which),
one might never know.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
April 6, 2025
Untitled haibun-like firehose
this not a trickle but a wide-open firehose that is not meant to douse flames but to disorient the American people leaving us reeling feeling discounted disregarded overlooked overwhelmed overpowered and overthrown (overthrown?) unquestionably and categorically overthrown and now so unrecognizable my country looks far more distorted than even what I see through my wrinkled retina and make no mistake this firehose is intentional gish gallop in its inundation and devastation and
How can one stall a
strategic tsunami with
a spoon and a sponge?
(c) Marie Elena Good 2025
April 3, 2025
Term Two
Albatross
Photo by Johann Van der Linde on Pexels.com
Term Two (a Tricube)
It feels like
quicksand, but
it isn’t.
We may be
in too deep
to get out,
but we can
still stand up
for what’s right.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
Robert Lee Brewer’s April 2025 PAD
This form is a Tricube: 3 stanzas of 3 lines of 3 syllables
April 2, 2025
Life’s View from My Recliner
Life’s View from My Recliner
The chair Mom rocked me in when I was a baby,
and when I wasn’t ready for her to stop.
The chair from which Grandma would flash that playful grin at me,
holding out the adorable ceramic kitten she would let me hold,
as long as I was in her lap. (That kitten is now mine.)
Decorative pillows Deanna brought home from Nepal for me
that now enjoy both my mom’s and my grandma’s touch.
The Tiffany-style lamp Dad turned from gas to electric,
and that now throws rainbows across my floor and onto my walls
and that sits atop the chess table he made
and the box that holds the wooden chess pieces.
The African violets started by my father-in-law.
They received the best upbringing, as he stroked and spoke to them.
Large windows that let in sun’s cheer, even as the scenes change
outside them. Visitors that grace those scenes …
colorful, talkative birds; various kinds of squirrels; chipmunks; deer;
delivery trucks that had halted during the pandemic;
moms and dads and grandparents pushing strollers or walking dogs;
children riding bikes;
the love of my life cleaning the gutters before tonight’s expected storm.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
Robert Lee Brewer’s April 2025 PAD
Day 2 prompt: From where I sit
April 2, 2025
In these times (no poem, and no picture)
Dear all:
The first time I was eligible to vote, I registered as a democrat. I proudly/excitedly/confidently voted for Jimmy Carter. In the very next election, I registered republican to vote (shaking in my shoes) for Ronald Reagan. For much of my life, I’ve considered myself a conservative republican. After my party went too far right for me, and the democrats too far left, I haven’t known how to politically label myself. I have always voted my conscious – I have never been a party-line voter. I am, and always will be, a follower of Jesus Christ.
But in this time we are in, I am democrat. Not because I agree with everything they think and do. Not because I have seen them accomplish all they say they are about (because I haven’t, because they haven’t). But because I see them as the only path to restoring our checks and balances in this America I already no longer recognize.
In this time we are in, I am American. I am Ukrainian, Syrian, Lebanese, Haitian, Afghani, Iranian, Iraqi, Sudanese, Somalian, Canadian, Burundian, Mexican, Peruvian, Cuban, Brazilian, Nicaraguan, Venezuelan … you get the picture.
In this time we are in, I am a follower of Jesus Christ. I am Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, Buddhist, Shinto …
In this time we are in, I am female. I am male. I am straight. I am lesbian, gay, bi, trans, queer, she, he, they …
In this time we are in, I am a citizen of the United States of America. I am a refugee, a parolee, an asylee. I am legal, illegal, undocumented …
In this time we are in, I am innocent. I am guilty, convicted, chained, and imprisoned.
Why do I say I am all these, when clearly I am not?
When Jesus’s feet were on this earth, He showed love and compassion for all. Yes, He stood for righteousness. He didn’t waiver from purity and holiness, and He encourages us to do the same (though it is impossible for us). He was sinless in His thought life. He was sinless in His behavior. He was all-loving, all-just, wholly compassionate, wholly empathetic, and (please hear this), He was sinless in His compassion and empathy. It is in large part why He came.
As a follower of Jesus, it is my duty and my privilege to honor with dignity and compassion every person ever created. We are all created in the image of God. It is His way. It is what He flawlessly demonstrated, and will do so eternally.
May He help me … help my country … be more like Him.
With all sincerity,
Marie Elena
pictured words 