pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Kindness

“Let all that breathe partake”

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The nation I call home seems to be in an uphill battle to
love all
who disagree, politically. An underlying prattle rumbling
fiercely,
rattling as intensely as a slithering serpent that can’t help
but speak
its small mind, as it seeks to find petty points that straddle
your truth
and strangle your certainty: callously, maliciously, never-so-
gently.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

*Title phrase from My Country ‘Tis of Thee

Poem within reads:

Love all
fiercely,
but speak
your truth
gently.

__________________________________________
This was my first stab at a brand new poem form, created by Candace Kubinec (Rhymes with Bug). She titled the form Waltmarie, named for Buffalo poet Walter Wojtanik, and me. The honor of this is more thrilling than I can express!

The Waltmarie is a 10-line form of any subject. The even-numbered lines are 2 syllables, and must form their own poem when read separately. The odd-numbered lines are longer, with no syllable count restrictions. That’s it! This new form is loads of fun, but is also quite challenging.

Here is Candace’s new form, with her excellent examples: Waltmarie Poetic Form – rhymeswithbug. Check out other poems in her blog while you are there. She is a talented poet!

Also, Robert Lee Brewer, poetry editor of the Writer’s Digest, highlighted Candace’s new form for his Poetic Form Friday feature on February 12: Waltmarie: Poetic Forms – Writer’s Digest .

Such a thrill … so humbling … so thankful …

UNTITLED 5/7/5

Then, after four years,
the child they’d nurtured as theirs
returned to birth mom.


© Marie Elena Good, 2020


It was actually shy of four years, but no matter.

Some people think I am a kind and caring woman. The fact is that I have not chosen the hard roads … the selfless roads … that some I greatly admire, have. It takes someone very special to foster children. It takes someone willing to brace themselves to get their heart ripped out of their chest. Even the possibility of that happening right before Christmas. I’m thankful for those willing to do that. God forgive me, I have never been one of them.

Sam and Ian, just … just, so much admiration. You bring me to tears.

MASK IN 17 SYLLABLES

Dad used to say, “Don’t
mistake kindness for weakness.”
Good words for these times.


NEVER HAVE I EVER

Photo by Jayant Kulkarni on Pexels.com

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

2020 VISION

architecture art clouds landmark

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In my imagination,
I see the eyes of a nation
opening
focusing
noticing
seeing each human being,
and agreeing their wellbeing
gives meaning to our own
as we bemoan our past
and hold steadfast
to our bloodstream’s dreams
of fairness for all
that made landfall
in 2020  –
not for the goal of the many,
but the whole of humanity.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

PIGLET, ESPECIALLY

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Photo credit:  Eric Mavis

It was said that Rabbit is made
of important things.
Piglet said, “Rabbit has brain,”
and, “Yes, Rabbit is clever.”
And that may be.
Yes, that may be.
But our smidgen-y Piglet is made
of weighty things –
nearly all of him being empathy
and oh-such-friendness
and how-can-I-helpness.
As Eeyore said
on that blustery day,
“Mind you don’t get blown away,
little Piglet. You’d be missed.”
And when you are missed,
you are weighty, indeed.

Christopher Robin’s friends
show us how to be ourselves
among others.
Being ourselves among others is
an important thing.

A weighty thing.

A Piglet-and-Pooh-and-Rabbit-and-Roo,
and Kanga-and-Eeyore-and-Tigger-and-Owl,
and love-me-for-me-and-I’ll-love-you-for-you,
significant, super-salubrious thing.

And so, little girl with your Piglet in tow,
be yourself as you grow,
and let others be so.
And when you’ve outgrown
your sweet childhood ways,
please hold Piglet at heart
for the rest of your days.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

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

MY SOPHIA ROSE

At the age of seven, Sophie built a hand bouquet for me, a few items at a time. When it was complete, I told her how beautiful it was. The short conversation that ensued may not exactly be a poem, but it is sheer poetry to me, and will reside in my heart forever:

It’s complete? It’s beautiful, Sophie. Thank you!

         It’s your personality, Nonna.

This bouquet is my personality? What do you mean? What would you say is my personality?

        Eternal happiness and love for everyone.

Oh, Sophie … that is so sweet. Thank you! And what would you say is YOUR personality?

        I’m love, too. And care for everyone, everywhere.

Light emanating
from an unsullied child’s heart
sparks a better us.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

And It Makes Me Wonder

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There’s a man who is sure
That he glitters like gold
And he’s building a wall for safekeeping.
In the office he sought
When he got there he thought
With a word, he could get what he came for.
Oh oh oh oh, and will he build the wall he had promised?

When he speaks, is there truth?
See, I want to be sure,
‘cause I sense that his words have no meanings.
And these memes that we share,
They don’t mean that we care.
Sometimes ALL of our thoughts are misgiving.

Oooh, it makes me wonder.
Oooh, it makes me wonder.

There’s a feeling I get
That’s too much like a threat
That’s expressed as “kind” words are escaping.
Through his acts have I seen
Rings of smoke through the mirrors,
And pained faces of those who are seeking.

Oooh, it makes me wonder.
Ooh, it really makes me wonder.

And it’s whispered that soon there will come a new moon,
And the piper will be charged with treason.
Then a new day will dawn
Talk of walls will be gone,
But will we have the peace we’ve sought after?

Could be a hustler in our Whitehouse,
But how do I know?
It’s just an inkling from what I’ve seen.
Yes, I have seen our politics spun
And in the long run
It’s all talk to spin the road we’re on,
And it makes me wonder.

My head is aching, and I can’t stand
This hate in my land.
The piper’s calling us to join him.
Dear Lady, do I hear you weeping,
And do I see
Indignant tears on the whispering wind?

And as we contemplate our walls,
Do we not stand to lose our soul?
Is our safekeeping worth it all?
Oh Lady shine through harbor’s fog!
Let dialogue be kind and true.
And let us listen very hard,
And tune our heart-song from our past,
When liberty was welcoming
When we were hailed as brave and free,
And we hadn’t closed our stairway to heaven.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

Please note:  Some phrases from the original Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin were intentionally used in this poem. 

BOXED

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When I label you,
I stuff  you in a box, then
trim what doesn’t fit.

(c)  Marie Elena Good, 2018