Thoughts from a snowed in writer

Once again I apologize for my absence. Family medical reasons have kept me away for longer than I have wanted. I’m working on my book, doing some hiking, and other "stuff" but this morning I’m trapped by the snow, so I have plenty of time for a cup of coffee and a muffin.

Have you seen the news? What’s going on? What have we done to our children? And really, did we need the news to tell us what’s in our faces if we will just look around? Why are they not getting the education they deserve? Why do we have generations of parents who are ok with kids quitting school or going on the dole because they are not encouraged to do anything else?
Why do we supply millions for weapons and nothing to fix the leaks in the schools and have up to date books in the classroom? Or is that billions?

Before you start waving the flag at me, I helped defend that flag, and I vote, so I have a right to speak, and let me be clear, I will defend this country until I am dead and gone. It’s almost Christmas, and why are children starving in this country and without medical assistance? Why are our veterans sleeping under bridges? You don’t see it? Well open your eyes! When I lived in Cincinnati and worked for the utility I regularly saw men sleeping near the big transformers not a mile from the city center. Why, well any science student will tell you that the electricity running through the coils in the transformers produces heat. That is any science student who is still in school. Most homeless men know more about insulation than the typical student.

I know it looks hopeless sometimes, but if everyone who is sick and tired of what we have done to Christmas would just spend a few hours at the homeless center helping, or at the thrift store sorting clothing, the world would be a better place for a few minutes.

A week or so ago I spent time with others, from my church, at the thrift store. I’m not good for much, but I can sort bags of donated clothing, and for a few hours we laughed and talked while we made a small dent in the bags. It’s wonderful to give, but then it takes warm bodies to get the things ready for the store, and listen, nobody is making a profit. The go back to feed the homeless, and a lot of the times the things are given away to the person in need. A little time there and the hope returns.

A country that treats its old people, homeless, and children the way we do needs to be looked at more closely. I don’t know many lawmakers, but I wonder if they would be ashamed if they looked a homeless family in the eyes. I wonder if they have seen the people sleeping on the grates in DC? I know there are good people out there. You know what kind of a person or child you’ve raised when they are willing to feed the homeless or donate a goat before they think about gifts for themselves.

We can turn this country around, by one person caring about another person, and so on.
Well, it’s my blog and I can rant if I want!

I know I’m not alone in this thinking, but I’m snowed in today, and maybe it’s not good to watch too much TV.

I think I have shared this poem with you before, but it seems appropriate. What will your prayers be this holiday season?

Get Up

Get Up
GET UP, you’re thinking about the game anyway.
You’re looking sideways at Janet Thompson’s legs
anyway.

Get Up
Walk back the aisle. Don’t think about
the stares, the whispers, or the preacher.
Push open the double doors at the back of the sanctuary,
run down the limestone steps, across the flagstone walk,
past the parking lot full of shiny cars, and up the street.

Run to the corner where the old woman
sits on the grate, wipes the snot from her nose,
cracks the snow from her hair.
Walk up to her and beg her forgiveness,
rip your pocket off, and give her all the
money you have.

Maybe
Maybe
Just maybe then, you’ll really know what
to pray for, and what the truth is.

Update

Well, I can once again see that I need to do some catch-up. I always have good intentions with this blog, but it just seems like this time of the year there is so much to get ready for the cold weather, get ready for the holidays, get ready for church activities, and get some writing done, and then getting ready for a nap needs to be put in there someplace.

Anyway, here’s an update. I have finished reading two books over the last few weeks. Dan Brown has done an excellent job on The Lost Symbol. I suspect the tourists will flock to Washington D.C. to see the hidden secrets he has mentioned. Sure did get some insight from him for my own book. All that action in just a few days sure keeps the reader ready to turn the next page. I also finished Patricia Cornwell’s book The Body Farm. I have no idea why I have never read it before, but I can tell you, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

As far as poetry is concerned, I am going through a Ryan Adams book called Infinity Blues. You might know him as a singer/songwriter. Some of the poems are raw, very personal, and beautifully written. I also picked up Poetry of the Golden Generation Volume II. Some wonderful writings from southern poets.

The Blue Ridge Poets and Writers had a reading a few weeks ago in a local church. We were given supper, and then we had an hour to read. The room was filled with over 90 people, but the first timers were able to read with confidence, and I was very proud of the group. The feedback has been good, and before we left I think most of the readers gave the poems away to people who asked for a copy.

So, a few weeks ago after all the rain we had here in the North Georgia, and you might have seen this on the weather channel, or read about it, a stone the size of a bus came off the mountain and brought trees and other debris with it, blocking the road a little west of the 1996 Olympic kayak and canoe site. Well, that’s not far from my home, and when I want to go “to town” that’s the way I go to Chattanooga Tennessee for a day of shopping. We are told that it will be closed for at least two months, so there goes any Christmas shopping we had planed to do there. Well, I mapped out another route over the mountains, and that was no good, so I got out the computer and put in all the stores I wanted to visit, and headed south toward Atlanta, but hoping I could do everything before getting that far away. It was a great day, and the wife and I found everything, and finally rested in a bookstore before heading home that afternoon. This will be important to know later.

On a personal note, a week or so ago I was sitting with some men I meet with regularly, and they started to harass me about how sad and morbid my poems are. I informed them that talk like that really bums me out, and I would try to do better. So, on my trip to the “big city” I looked for inspiration, and I think I found it. Here is a draft of my new poem. Would you call it a prose poem, or just prose, or something you’d rather not say? You be the judge. Have a wonderful day, keep smiling, and have fun.

Rant

So, I’m in a book store fifty-eight miles from the house, and I’m at a table close to the magazines reading a poetry magazine because I’m really tired of buying it and then seeing a half a dozen poems and the rest advertisements, and commentaries and interviews by somebody who has no idea how to ask a question without adding words they just discovered from their thesaurus, and someday I just know one of these poets will ask them, are you just stupid or something, and what kind of silly darn question is that anyway?
So, I’m about ready to put it back on the shelf and out of the stacks comes this beautiful woman in blue jeans and a blue pull over shirt. She walks around my table and stands at my elbow looking at bride magazines, and you know how they put the good magazines under that middle shelf, and that’s another pet peeve of mine, but anyway she bends over to see them, and everything separates, and I’m looking at this triangle with straps going in three directions, and it’s red with white stripes, or white with red stripes, and it’s really close to my face, and honest, all I can think about is, that just doesn’t go with that blouse.