24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
December sixth I believe
Is Saint Nicholas Day
He brings oranges for good children
And coal for bad children
In their shoes lined up by the door
Who knew there was a Saint Nicholas day?
When I first found out in my
German town I was confused
The kids from families generations back
Told each other what goods they got
I was unaware and I became sad that
Saint Nicholas forgot about me
This too shall pass,
To every low, a high will surpass…
After the darkest of hour, brightness surely shall embark,
One happy memory is enough, to keep away the sadness’s mark…
This too shall pass,
Like the things that now had become past…
Sustaining the present is the only sole key,
To unlock living, waiting for the right place and time to be…
This too shall pass,
Again, for the flowers to be placed in the vase…
Blossoms to again bloom over the park,
Sky to shine bright, clearing the clouds dark…
This too shall pass,
For nature too to have one last laugh…
Living creatures to interact with all,
Laughter to be heard breaking from the grievance’s cell…
Cold Turkey
It’s torture –
no slow dance steps to end
a waltz slow and steady; no
wait-I-need-more-time time,
no give-me-another-chance
to do-be-better.
It’s not fair –
no warning bell telling me
to get off the tracks, a train
is going to barrel through me.
No commercial interruption
to let me get another glass of
wine-water-vodka before the show
sweeps me up to land on my back,
breathless with surprise-awe-
disappointment.
It’s killing me –
deprived-unsated-needing
a fix, a hug, a shoulder to keep me
moving along without you, without
me falling to pieces like a broken
jigsaw puzzle box, middles-corners-
borders piled together in a heap
of lost intersections.
I can’t do it –
refuse to let you go, let you
move on without me-us-we.
I’m on my way, will find you
wherever the ends of the earth
stop.
~ J R Turek
June 26, 2021 Hour 8
Warm, fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies.
Goey, little fingers dip them into a mug of cold milk.
Sweet first bite, chocolate smears on lips, milk dribbles down chin.
YUM!
Eagerly, little fingers search out the milk for a second dip.
Tip. Splash! Oops! Tears.
“Don’t cry over spilled milk! I’ll get you another.”
Just like that, all is right with the world again.
From ear to ear, I smile,
Utilizing each facial muscle bone,
Pearly whites gleaming,
Twinkle of my eye sparkling,
High cheek bones, minus the dimples,
A soft grin, slight angle of my lips,
I smile…
Through happy and sad occasions,
Laughing off frustrations,
Amused by the simplest gestures,
Because it’s much easier than to frown,
And it makes it much better,
I smile.
Head pounding hoping
serendipity returns
equal to the ache
News reports remain
an insufferable catalog
of monosyllables
Where is the Advil?
We need an antidote
for this caravan of nonsense
The sun is out
somewhere a sea is
growing the tide high
and sardines small
Yes, sardines
they’re in the ocean
before the can
loitering on a Kroger shelf
What a long voyage
from the Atlantic to west Tennessee
by car, about 11 hours
by can, who knows
Charles Egan wrote a bit of history of the Irish 1
The late 1840’s were cruel for the Irish
Potato crops were a staple of the Irish
A blight on the crops starved many of the Irish
Rotting from the center, devastating the Irish
And then, a harsh winter wiped out many Irish.
The Killing Snows, the first of a trilogy shows the Irish 2
Tragedy, from the perspective of one family of strong Irish.
This family were ordinary and extraordinary Irish
Ordinary needs for food and hope are not uniquely Irish
The need to pay the rent, also not uniquely Irish
The fact that life moved on, of course not uniquely Irish.
Extraordinary were the habits of the Ryans, proudly Irish 3
Like saving seed potatoes, for planting the next year, smart Irish
But the rot did not reward discipline for these Irish
The rot filled their bins as well as the fields of these Irish.
Bread and corn will have to suffice for these Irish
Physical strength in their teen and adult son – fortunate Irish. 4
And the fact that they had been hard working Irish,
Running a quarry of shale and stone made them reputable Irish.
So when relief came – it needed local workers to dispense to the Irish
Jobs that were back straining, almost impossible for the hungry Irish
Government programs underestimated the need of the Irish.
The government aid overestimated the work possible by the weakened Irish 5
But aid would not be given to the non-working Irish.
Laws based on fear of “encouraging people to be lazy” further starved the Irish
The local market suffered the truth of supply and demand and that Irish
Corn was rare and expensive and pitiful and the ONLY vegetable to feed the Irish
And it was not even possible for too many Irish.
The Ryan’s were fortunate in having that quarry to give work to the Irish 6
But the work was government work, with policies not based on care for the Irish.
Policies were based on stretching the aid money to as many as possible – Irish
And the numbers of people in the vulnerable hills were uncounted Irish.
The Ryans were fair, but hunger affects a person’s thoughts, even the proud Irish
Stealing a cow becomes more necessary than fairness, for the local Irish.
I am a descendant of the surviving Boyles and Callahans, true Irish.
It feeds our souls to know what troubles have been endured, and being true Irish
We commit ourselves to being quick to help and never to waste – as true Irish.
By Nancy Ann Smith
The Blue Wall of silence unequivocally permits
violence when it is one of it’s own doing the violating
Giving serve and protect an even deadlier meaning.
Treating the world like their personal playground
letting everyone know who the biggest gang
in town truly is, disregarding certain members
of the public’s safety when interactively engaging
with the people.
Deplorable actions only lead to minor
infractions, believing that they are above any
reproach at all.
The Blue Wall keeps the good ones
from doing what is right whenever
they see something they don’t like.
I ask you how is The Blue Wall any different
from no snitching that has been adopted
in the streets?
Both labels anyone who indeed
talks as a filthy dirty rat?
Both puts a target on the narcs back
and makes them susceptible to being
attacked.
Both the code of two different gangs
just worded differently as to not sound the same.
Coming from where I do
Nothing you say is normal
Feels right
A day in the sun.
They all are relaxing, and around the pool
Socializing, and enjoying their Long Island.
Ice tea,
While the DJ plays.
His music.