Too much time to toil
smells like coffee break.
Too much time to broil
stinks of ruined steak.
Too much time spent mowing
smells of outside, in.
Too much time spent crowing
reeks of haughty din.
Time spent giving speeches
hints of stage-fright sweat.
Time spent strolling beaches?
Stale outlook reset.
Wasted time on druthers
leaves stench day-to-day.
Time spent loving others
breathes in sweet bouquet.
© Marie Elena Good
Agreement is not crucial.
Kindness is.
Divergence is not futile.
Blindness is.
In one way or another,
We should learn
To hear our diverse brothers –
Not to spurn.
© Marie Elena Good
As I near my autumn days,
I think of all I have not experienced.
No trips abroad.
No vacation home.
No award-winning book.
No fame.
No second-glance beauty.
I think of all I have not experienced.
Yet, let the autumn leaves summon,
For I am content to sit side-by-side,
In dappled sunlight or soaking rain.
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2012
They say a picture paints a thousand words.
The pairing of the two gives me delight.
And if a picture paints a thousand words,
Then picture this: a picture painted write.
The pairing of the two gives me delight –
A complement of image with my words –
Appealing to my mind, and to my sight.
Perhaps a picture paints a thousand words
But here is what I try hard to pursue:
I strive to bat a thousand, with a few.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
This morning at Poetic Bloomings, Walt Wojtanick prompted us to write about our own blog.
As I embrace One who was slain,
and forfeit self,
what will I gain?
Eternal life in Christ is mine
not of my self,
but His design.
His agony, my boundless gain
corrupted self
cannot attain.
In death to self I gain no loss
my life secured
on Calvary’s cross.
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2012
“For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit their very self?” ~ Luke 9:24-25.
Caring for the yard is hard
when clay sits atop
once-upon-a-swamp
and damp drains down
heavy on your skin,
and feels like breathing soup
as you heave your weight atop a spade
to dislodge one weed from clay.
Repeat, all day.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
New York Times, Jan. 2, 2017
Political post by Sheri Fink and Helene Cooper“Give me a pack of cigarettes and a couple of beers, and I do better with that than I do with torture.” ~ James N. Mattis, Retired General, and President-elect Donald J. Trump’s nominee for Secretary of Defense
A young boy’s torture,
Received
Then imparted,
Swells the hell inside –
Wills famine of worth
Gives birth to young man
Young soldier
Acquainted with torture
And callous of heart.
A young boy’s nurture,
Received
Then imparted,
Renders a tender
Defender of life
Where strife matters not.
Young soldier, familiar
With self-control
And depth of soul.
Young country at war
Divides her own shore.
© Marie Elena Good, 2017
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
pictured words 