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Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

A Promise to Myself

Quiet dawn of morning 
pierced by computer clicks, 
I drink first cup of coffee,

all hope of using brain ruined
seeing “stupid” and “greatest” 
on my screen, 
creative thought pierced, 
stabbed by stupid and greatest words,
ideas trumped, thoughts killed.
Until morning when free spirit
brings fresh words in abundance.
tomorrow, when computer closed,
I am not yet crushed by internet chatter from
bitter tweets of hatred and blame and name calling.

Poem and sketch by MJC

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Rainbows I Have Seen

(Some people collect stamps.  I collect rainbows.)

Rainbows
celebrate light,
announcing the end of noisy blue rain storms
calming nerves caused by
lightening streaks and thunder beats of crazy drums.

 

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Abstract Thought

I don’t know what this is.
But it seems right to me.
It expresses my inner thoughts, I guess.
But since I don’t know what it is,
The meaning of it is elusive.
It seems to set a direction, then moves on.
Much like my life.
Is that what it is?
Each twist and turn leaves a larger decision, a
footprint of sorts.

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What Actually Happened?

Are found truths eliminated lies?
– proved wrong before truth pursued?
Is time not wasted while examining lies?
Is proving a lie truth 
or is truth hiding elsewhere?

Are lies scientific evidence when found false, like proving the null hypothesis?
Are lies facts when truth is obfuscated?  
Are lies kind when they are white?  
Are lies easier to live when when they bely the meaning of facts?
Are lies truer when falsified?
What about pathological lying?  
What are we going to do about that?

Sketch and poem by MJC

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Ahem

How is it that 
concern for others is worthless?
real is fake?
data are junk to be ridiculed?
declarations of love laughable?
insults the norm?
while we all fall down, together?  
Is there anyone left standing?
This hurts!

Cartoon sketch by MJC.

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Who is that Woman?


She mystifies me, that woman,
holding her paint brush confidently in her left hand,
sitting as she does left leg over right, appearing poised and comfortable in her flowery dress, hair flying, bun loosely in place.

She looks like a beautiful tiger, or
an exceptional rose hanging over tall branches, alone and colorful.

I wonder what she is thinking, this woman of the late 1920’s, an artist painting just a few years since American women could vote.  
Is she looking forward?

She might be aghast if her visionary powers are excellent.

Is she trying to forget?  While sitting comfortably in that brief time between two world wars.

Is she reveling in the present?
I hope so.




Oil painting on canvas by MJC
Water color on paper by MJC

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It Hasn’t Been That Long


Ihasn’t been that long, has it?

Five decades, you say?
Is that a long time?
If measured in human life expectancies, then yes, I suppose so.
But if measured in eternities, in an endless universe,
Where infinity is the shortest line
And forever is the first second on the clock,

then not so long, really.

Photo of eclipse reflections and poem by MJC


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