pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Life

I Remember John-John’s Third Birthday

My five-year-old eyes
watched a three year old salute
his daddy’s coffin.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

Written in response to Walt Wojtanik’s “I remember …” prompt at Poetic Bloomings.

UNTITLED

OIP

“They call me Mr. Tibbs.”  ~ Virgil Tibbs, In the Heat of the Night

It’s 1967. I’m 9 years old. My dad is explaining the gist of a movie I am not allowed to see. I don’t want to see the movie.  More than that, I don’t want to see the nightly news.

It’s 2020. My granddaughter is 9 years old.  As in ’67, I don’t want to see the news.  Yet, there is a difference in the images this time:  Many protesters and police officers are wearing masks, attempting to protect those they see, from a virus they can’t.

The Long Hot Summer
of Nineteen Sixty Seven
begs us take a knee.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

voice

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Image courtesy of Pixabay

in need to be heard,
he sings. flies.  calls. cries.  songbird –
winged and otherwise.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

DEAR MOM,

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DEAR MOM,

I wonder if you smiled after tucking me in at night, as I yelled, “I love you and I like you,” until I heard you reach the bottom of the stairs.

When I was in high school, you and I would often walk Naples’ beach. I told you how much I enjoyed our beach walks.  You told me I would get a boyfriend, and would no longer choose to walk the beach with you.  I got that boyfriend, and spent a great deal of my waking hours with him.

I wonder if you smiled each time I asked you to walk the beach with me.

Even through my teen years, you made sure you were home when I got home from school.  You didn’t want me coming home to an empty house. You stopped whatever you were doing, and took time to talk.  Even then, I understood the blessing of that.

I wonder if you smiled whenever you remembered me telling you I appreciated coming home to you.

I believe early Alzheimer’s began to separate you from yourself.  I think you recognized that, and feared eventual separation from all of us.  Perhaps that’s why you began saying, “I love you.  You know that.”  You wanted to make sure your love for us was so deeply rooted that there was little risk of it getting lost somewhere in a possible future of unknowingness.  You know that.  That little phrase attached to I love you was part of who you were.  Yes, we knew that. You were kind, and good.  You loved well.

I wonder if you smiled somewhere inside when I whispered, “I love you and I like you,” in those final days when you were growing less responsive.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

AWAITING WATERSHEDS 

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Photo by Keith R. Good

Every crisis in my life
has left expected tinges
I wish were erasable,
but also unforeseen traces
of the embraceable.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

FROM HIM, THROUGH HIM, TO HIM (Sonnet to my God)

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Photo by Daniel Reche, courtesy of Pixabay

Oh, stillness deep within me, never wane
when chaos saturates the world without.
I know the very God who sees and reigns –
whose still, small voice speaks peace, and quiets doubt.

He gave mankind a gnawing in our soul
that won’t be satisfied without His will.
And only He can quench that thirsty hole;
and only through His food, we get our fill.

At times, my praise rings sonorous and strong,
and springs from nourished soul that feeds on Him.
At times my praise, just weak and weary song,
seeps sluggishly from apathy within.

Oh, Father, fill me up when I am drained,
and may my praise be endless; unrestrained.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

PANDEMIC

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Imprint in Concrete photo by Keith R. Good

We’re navigating
necessary conversions
to our way of life.

Maybe we’ve traded
trite for substance.  And maybe
we can keep the change.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

 

UNTITLED SENRYU

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Image from demilked.com

Can we see from space
that a slower, simpler pace
is earth’s saving grace?

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

SOCIALLY REWIRED IN NO TIME FLAT

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Photo courtesy of Pixabay

I’m all for the masks and hand-washing,
Keeping 6 feet away and not touching,
But for cryin’ out loud
I just gasped at the crowd
On the old T.V. show that I’m watching!

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

True story, y’all! LOL!

Untitled senryu (isolation prompt)

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Image from Pixabay by Gordon Johnson

Until they are brought
together to speak, they’re just
twenty six letters.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020