Is he pretentious,
talented,
whimsical,
or just exhausted
and silly?
At last,
he is writing,
worried about what others think.
He hasn’t done that
in a long time.
He hasn’t cared.
Is he pretentious,
talented,
whimsical,
or just exhausted
and silly?
At last,
he is writing,
worried about what others think.
He hasn’t done that
in a long time.
He hasn’t cared.
A half a century ago
my character yelled:
“I’m responsible!”
on stage.
I’m not certain that,
back then,
I knew what the phrase meant:
“I’m responsible!”
Now, decades past,
I understand that,
at my core,
I’m responsible.
It’s silly to blame
anyone else
for anything bad
in my life,
because it’s all good,
as long as
I think it is
and want it to be.
I’m responsilbe
for that.
I must be always/
positive, and give peace on/
earth, good will to all.
— The backstory for this poem was my take on Longfellow’s poem “I heard the Bells”, and also a haiku inspired by a prose piece Kate Phillips wrote. You can read it here.
When we feel God’s Grace
and Spirit, let’s marinate
in it a minute.
When folks keep you down/
in your pre-miracle phase,/
look to God and live.
We live on Death’s Creek
where folks get sick. Should we leave?
Or work to heal it?