Family History

Standard

Priscilla was the oldest, she died at 82
Guilford died much younger, the uncle I never knew
Warren lived ’til 90, the last surviving son
But when my mother passed away, then there were none


To try to get back to writing poetry, I’m doing a second round with “A Kick in the Head” — a book I picked up at a thrift store that gave examples of 29 different poetic forms.

Today’s poem is a quatrain.

Control

Standard

Pry my fingers open, break them if You must
I’m tired of clutching junk that will deteriorate and rust
Place in my hands the things that last although I am but dust

Daily prompt: control


To try to get back to writing some poems, I’m going a second round with “A Kick in the Head” — a book I picked up at a thrift store that gave examples of 29 different poetic forms. Today’s poem is the Tercet.

Pascal Pensee #299 — a couplet

Standard

“Unable to strengthen justice, they have justified might”
True. ’tis what they do, but is it right?


Two things:

  1. I’ve been working my way through Pascal’s Pensées. In this section, he talks about the tension/balance between justice and might.

A longer quote from Pensée #298 says — “Justice is subject to dispute; might is easily recognized and is not disputed. So we cannot give might to justice, because might has gainsaid justice, and has been declared that it is she herself who is just. And thus, being unable to make what is just strong, we have made what is strong just.”

(gainsay definition — deny or contradict)

I roll these thoughts around in my head — justice and might — because we have a president who has promised to “make America great again.” Is that accomplished through justice or might?

2. To try to get back to writing some poems, I’m going a second round with “A Kick in the Head” — a book I picked up at a thrift store that gave examples of 29 different poetic forms.

Oh, by gosh, by golly…

Standard

Oh, by gosh, by golly
It’s time for foolishness and folly
Spending money to buy your honey
Something you can’t afford

Oh, by gosh, by jingle
You feel your wallet all a-tingle
Overconsuming, somehow assuming
Some bills can be ignored

Then comes that big day
And opening all the gifts —
Seeing discarded wrapping
Doesn’t give your spirit a lift

Oh, by gosh, by golly
It’s time for foolishness and folly
Junky surpises, clothes the wrong sizes
Returning a present or two —
Retailers whisper, “Happy Holidays” to you


With apologies to Mr. Sinatra