Archive for the 'Poetry' Category

Limericks

Tuesday, May 18th, 2010

There once were two girls named Mayer,

Who were smart, wise and wondrously fair.

They gave me my “Bad Jokey” name,

That shows the source of my fame.

It’s my hope that I can soon see their lair.

—GMC

-

When I was a very young girl

I had a cat white as a pearl.

After his nap

He would sit in my lap

and there in a ball he would curl.

—Parker, Greta. GMC

-

There once was an old dude named Burt,

Who found a tall flower  that would squirt.

He bent down to smell

It is too sad to tell,

That his face ended up in the Dirt.

Parker, Greta, GMC

-

There was an old dude name Bad Jokey,

Who had a pet cat named Smokey

He came in to sit,

And got thrown in a fit,

‘Cause he found that his cat was all pokey.

Parker, Greta, GMC

-

There was a young dude named Eric,

Who did not have a cousin named Derek.

When he came in the room,

He filled us with gloom,

‘Cause his farts gave us  need for some air wick.

Parker, Greta, GMC

-

I know a cool woman named Nicole,

To be her friend is my goal.

She often wears her blue shower shoes,

Sadly one of her shoes she does lose.

I think it was devoured by Joel.

GMC

I have a daughter named Jill,
For her smoothies I would kill.
I don’t care what she puts in it,
MMM, she may even gin it.
Without one I feel pickled in dill.

To NKS
Nancy’s sense of humor is in bad trouble
Maybe because mine is worse at least double.
Still  she is a woman of character and strength.
In her praise I would go any length.
To see that you don’t need the Hubble.

To Jill

Sunday, May 2nd, 2010

Jill’s Mom, Jerelyn, who is my ex-wife, was a few months pregnant with Jill when we were deciding to move from the East Coast back to California. At the time, we already had one daughter, our adorable two year old Gina The decision to move was a tough one for me to make. I was very afraid that a cross country trip would threaten our unborn baby and be a risk to our  family.

One day, when I was working as Payroll Manager for The Marriott Corporation in the DC area, I went for a drive during my lunch hour. I began to meditate on this Bible verse. “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you.” [Matt 6:33KJV]

A powerful sense of well being came over me. I felt if I made my decision on the basis of my best understanding of what was right, every thing would work out just fine. At that very moment. I decided that provided Jerelyn agreed, we would move back to California. As it happened, she also thought the move was the right thing to do.

A month or so later, we rented a U-haul trailer for the cross country move. The trailer, packed to the limit with every thing we owned, weighed more than our car, a Plymouth Barracuda. That made the car want to swerve when I had to brake suddenly. Anytime  I was pulling the trailer, I was anxious about losing control of the car.

In a few days we arrived safely in Dallas to be with Jerelyn’s brother Jim and his wife Leta for a few days. I wanted Jerelyn and Gina to fly on to California and to allow me to drive on alone. Jerelyn wanted no part of that Idea. I asked her brother to try to persuade Jerelyn to fly from Dallas to Los Angeles. He refused. He said, “She has the right to make that decision for herself. I will not try to influence her.”

I became more and more distressed each day that we remained in Dallas. Then a phrase from Isaiah began to run through my mind over and over again. The phrase was the last few words of Isa 40:11. “He… shall gently lead those that are with young.” I grabbed onto that  verse as if it were a life raft that would keep me safe from voracious sharks. I finally could accept the comfort that helped me feel that my family was going to be OK. We traveled together and we made it back to California.

After a short visit to San Diego, We drove to Monrovia and  moved into our new home. My main worry then was good medical care for Jerelyn. However,a local Doctor generously offered us free pre-natal and birth care. We settled down to wait for our new baby.

Gina was in a perpetual state of elation at the prospect of a brother or sister. Jerelyn felt good but had one deeply felt concern. When Gina had been born, Jerelyn had gone through a strenuous labor from morning to the late evening on an empty stomach. She had been ravenously hungry and had demanded a sandwich be sent to recovery  while she was still in the delivery room. With this baby, she was determined not to go into labor on an empty stomach for a second time.

We had a peach tree in the back yard drooping with fruit. Every night we made hot peach cobbler buried in vanilla ice cream. Jill came two weeks later than we expected, so we downed, with relish, a huge  dessert just before we went to bed every night for two weeks. It is a wonder that Jill was not born a diabetic.

Labor began very early one morning. We left Gina with Grandma, and rushed to the hospital which was just a few miles across town. I had scouted the hospital a few days earlier so I would be sure to know where the entrance to the hospital was located.  However, because it was so early in the morning we couldn’t go in the main entrance. The sign said to go to the emergency entrance to gain access to the hospital. We had to walk about two hundred yards around the building to get to the emergency entrance.

I was overwhelmed with remorse. Jerelyn thoroughly enjoyed rubbing it in. “Nice job George. Here I am about ready to give birth  and you are making me walk clear around the outside of the hospital. I am going to tell everyone we know about this.”

I don’t think she was angry, but there was definitely some teasing payback in her voice for her long walk. She lived up to her promise. Everyone we knew was given the opportunity to unmercifully razz me.

When Jerelyn got to the labor room, the nurse took one look and said, “Honey, don’t push, don’t push.” The  nurse ran out of room to call the Doctor. All the staff were worried that the baby would come before the doctor got there.

When the Doctor came he was angry. He said “It seems like experienced nurses like you could manage to get me here on time”. I did not mention our circumnavigation of the hospital grounds.

I had tried to work it out with the hospital so I could be in the delivery room. However, we had not gotten settled in California soon enough for me to complete the child birth training.The doctor turned on the speakers in the Father’s waiting room so I could hear what was going on. In just a few minutes, I heard the announcement, “You have a beautiful daughter.” I then I heard Jill’s delicate little cry; I was so moved.

After Jill was born I went to Jerelyn’s room. I kissed her and said, “I have no words to express my gratitude to you for giving me my baby girl.” That was all I wanted to, or for that matter could, say.

In thirty minutes or so I left Jerelyn’s room to allow her to sleep. As I was leaving the room, the nurses gave me directions to the nursery viewing window so I could  see my little baby girl. Her crib had been moved right next to the window. The birth had been quick enough and easy enough that Jill was completely unmarked by the process of being born. She was achingly beautiful and still is to this day.

I stood at the window looking at my new daughter for a long time. It must have been at least 90 minutes. I was looking at my baby with delight but also in awed silence. I wanted to be there with her all by myself. I hoped that no one would come by and disturb us. Very few events in the ensuing years could compare at all with the thrill of becoming Jill’s father.

Jill was a delightful little girl. She was bright, giving, enjoyable, hard working and very capable. In school, she kept herself years ahead of her grade level. She did that on her own motivation. I don’t remember ever saying or thinking that she needed to to stop playing in order to get her  homework done.

Ultimately she skipped the sixth grade. That put her at the same grade level as Gina. Being in the same grade worked out well  for them and was the foundation for the remarkable friendship between the two that is still a powerful friendship today. That friendship of course, includes little sister JoAnna

Also, Jill loved to take on big projects. One time when she was about ten,  she wanted to clean the garage. It was a throughly cluttered mess full of things like a non-functioning fuel pump that I had removed from the car years before.

There was no path through the mess in the garage. All the junk was piled up in  layers.  I would not let her clean it up. My reasoning was that I should do the job. In other words, my refusal had nothing to do with Jill’s admirable capabilities and aspirations. I simply wanted to avoid  the guilt feelings that  I would have because I let my ten year old daughter do a job I should have done myself.

She was very disappointed. but it worked out well. Years later, the sisters organized a garage sale selling the junk in the garage. I tried to stop them from putting out the really worthless stuff. Jill said, “Dad, that is the stuff people will want to buy”. That event was a precursor to what would turn out to be Jill’s remarkably good business sense. They sold the worn out fuel pump for a quarter.  They realized a very nice profit that day.

Jill was energetic and enthusiastic in her play, especially when all four girls were trying to wrestle me to the ground from my hands and knees during our every evening play on the living room carpet.  She was and is a lovely sister and daughter.

She also loved justice.  Their grade school was largely a mix of Hispanic kids and kids of Northern European descent. One year she and her sisters were outraged that their schoolmates wanted them to decide between being a Chollo or being an Anglo . The girls absolutely refused to be pressured into deciding between the two groups. They wanted to be friends with everyone.

At some point in High School, Jill began saving all the money she earned babysitting and house cleaning. She wanted to spend a year in Paris with her cousins who lived there. She had to pay for the whole trip herself. She was showing her willingness to make a plan, then work like crazy to pull it off.

This trip was a sort of rite of passage for Jill. Jill loved being at home with her family. Some years she didn’t even want to go to summer camp. For that reason, going off to Paris by herself when she spoke very little French was incredibly brave. I know she was often lonely, but she made the trip work. She even took a dance class at a nearby French University. She stayed as long as she needed in order to give herself the satisfaction of meeting her goal.

She was the first of my kids to leave home for any length of time. She took her sewing machine on the airplane with her on the flight to France. I’ll never forget how my heart ached seeing my lovely daughter, with her sewing machine hanging off her right shoulder, walk onto the ramp leading to the airplane.

When she got home from Paris, she had grown up. Her maturity showed  very soon after she got home; she wanted to volunteer at Union Rescue Mission where I worked. Jill her sisters and some friends did a really good job volunteering at the missions Kids Klub program for several years.

I had the privilege of performing Jill and Eric’s wedding. In one way, it was a sad time because Cousin Steve was struck with a ultimately fatal aneurysm in his brain stem the very day of their wedding.

I was stunned over Steve, especially since I was with him when the aneurysm struck.I deeply wanted Jill and Eric to have good memories of their wedding day despite our family’s tragedy.

The incredible love that everyone in attendance at their marriage so powerfully felt, carried the day. Everyone fully supported the idea of the two of them getting married.I felt waves of love rolling up from the attendees. Jill, Eric and I all agree that their wedding was moving and warm. The wedding is a good memory for all us .

I love having Eric as a son in law. He is a very loving and enjoyable member of our family. In time there was the wonder that is my granddaughters. I love them so very much. Jill is still beautiful in every way a woman can be beautiful.

When she was a child she delighted me. That hasn’t changed.

A Good Program Moment

Saturday, July 19th, 2008

I saw her, with her shiny dark hair.

A smile so sweet, she so sweetly will share.

A quick warm embrace, love from her soul.

I gave back her hug, returning love as my goal.

-

Her eyes are shiny, full of deep love.

Love that’s from God, down from above.

She is pretty, good, kind and bright.

Maybe we’ll talk, that would be pure delight.

-

When I am speaking, she listens intently.

I hear myself speaking a little more gently.

She looks at me steadily, straight in my eye.

I look right back, feeling very alive.

-

Note: Written in an effort to preserve a great moment.

Protected: The Depth of a Woman

Thursday, June 21st, 2007

How did you do it God? How did you make a woman who is

capable

articulate

pleasing

bright

strong

beautiful,

And still at the same time

tender

spiritual

sympathetic

characterized by deep humility?

I have talked about my dark places many times,

in meetings

sharing with a friend

in my writings

in therapy

even a few times on the radio.

I have told many people that my dark places are

scary

stinky

ugly

disturbing

sickening

distorting.

Last Sunday, I wanted to share with you, but I was afraid that you would be

put off

offended

a little distant

shocked.

I kept asking you, “Are you all right?” Is this too much information?” But you were

gracious

calm

warm

tender.

You even told me a story designed to reassure me.

Always before, I had only described my dark places.This time it was different. It felt to me as if I was actually showing the places to you like I was your guide.

I took you personally to the dark places.

I walked you through.

I stood there with you.

I pointed out the things that made my insides so dark.

I took strength from you and told you my deeply humiliating secrets.

You didn’t waver. You did lower your voice which only

raised the intensity of your nearness.

You had a calming calm

were way beyond interested

were involved, intimate

asked me questions that were to the heart of the things I had suffered as a boy

believed in me, cared about me.

I can’t stop thinking about those hours we were together. Because of your qualities, a healing process has begun deep inside of me.

Your beauty is making  the darkness less horrible.

your lovely fragrance is driving away the stench.

your light makes it less dark.

your power makes my dark places feel safer.

I have always admired you, but now

I am staggered by your depth

I am touched by your gentle love

I  see that the awful things you endured as a little girl have become tremendous

assets.

Thank you so much. George

Happy Birthday Mom

Wednesday, September 20th, 2006

You are the mother for whom I used to wish.

To Dad and all your men, you are really quite a dish.

You are fun, outgoing, a rich warm delight.

You are the Mom I love, I love with all my might.

.

You are wise, understanding, and sweet as you can get.

You are priceless, yes peerless, on that I sure would bet.

I value the tenacity of your rich, deep love for me.

The love you freely show, for all the world to see.

.

God gave me the Mom I’ve never had before.

You bring me such joy, I could not love you more.

Happy Birthday Mom, you deserve a real great day.

May God bless and keep you, in every single way.

.

George

My Friend George

Tuesday, May 30th, 2006

An elder so fierce in his gentleness, he disarms the mightiest of foes.

The simple wisdom of a sage, twinkles and glimmers through a foolish

child’s delight in his eyes.

He brought tears to my eyes with harsh truths of a boy’s nightmares

turned to gold in the healing alchemical vessel that is our

lives in the mystery and grace of an ever present, ever potent

force of love and wisdom.

Like an unworthy, frantic, needy boy, who turns his pockets inside

out, spreading all the contents before him, marbles, a rabbit’s

foot, a bubblegum card.

I may not have done well in school. But I’m smart.

I’ll tell you all I know.

He say’s shush. Let’s relax and just

enjoy one another.

Written for me after we had gotten together for the first time,

by my good friend Chris Giatris

To An Adult Daughter

Wednesday, May 24th, 2006

I gave this poem to each of my daughters around their 18th birthday. Gina, my oldest got it first. She cried because she didn’t want things to change. The other girls knew it was coming.

You are a woman now
My fathering task is done.
The reward of fathering is upon me
As His children we are one.

There is no greater delight
Than our time now you are grown.
I savor every contact
That means I know and I am known.

All has been repaid
There is no debt owed.
Whatever you have cost me
You have given back tenfold.

No money or no time.
Not a letter or a call.
Never feel an “Ought to”
Making stressful tears to fall.

I offer you my friendship;
Whatever I am I give.
I reach for you my daughter,
To share the lives we live.

I am glad to give you wisdom
If I have the words you need;
But I have no right to impose
If my words are not your deed.

I gladly take your insights.
I am hungry for what you know.
You are a thoughtful woman,
You have great light to show.

Be free, my strong beauty.
Follow any light you dare
But I long to be your friend
As we have time to share.

- GMC -

One Hundred Million Children

Wednesday, May 24th, 2006

One Hundred Million Children

God, I am not sure I can express this—
So Many factors are at play.

All people are born to love children.
All children are lovely.
I was not loved.
100,000,000 [One hundred million]
children
are
not
loved.
They live on the streets of the world.

My abuse as a child connects me with them.
Because I was abused,
I withdraw in shock
From the magnitude of the horror.

I have one face in mind;
A boy, now dead, pictured in today’s newspapers
Next to a colonel executed by terrorists.

We are outraged by the hanging of the Colonel.
We should be outraged
We are outraged by the boy’s death.
We should be outraged.

I do not know how to be outraged
by
100,000,000
street
children.

That’s too many for me.
But
You
know
the
names
of
100,000,000,000 [One hundred billion]
galaxies.

Each galaxy has 100,000,000,000 to 400,000,000,000 stars.
You
know
the
name
of
every
star.

You know, as a friend, every sparrow.
Therefore,
you
know
every
child
that is homeless-
all 100,000,000 of them.
[ Do they all even have names?]

Every time a child’s stomach rumbles
you
hear
it.

Every time a child becomes full of rage at his circumstances
you
are
angered.

Every time a child sells himself sexually and wounds his soul
you
are
wounded.

Every time an angry adult lashes out at a child
you
feel
it.

The suffering of one child is staggering.
You feel all their pain.
You do not turn your face from any of them.
You watch them suffer, each and every one.
I weep for them.
I weep for you.

What can I do?

GMC

They Shall Not Hurt or Destroy

Wednesday, May 24th, 2006

They Shall Not Hurt Or Destroy

The deer crashes through the thicket
Made desperate by the gun.

The lion chases the goat who in
Terror is made to run.

The mother of the child is frightened
She fears and hates the snake.

The whole forest dreads the bear
And the havoc he can make.

But a new voice comes in love and great power
And announces the arrival of the long awaited hour.

“They shall not hurt or destroy in all
My holy mountain; for the earth
Shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord
As the the waters cover the sea”

There is a miracle in that voice,
The lion and bear take note,

Of deeply buried understandings
That no longer are remote.

No man or beast dares rebel
Against the speaker that is God
Who speaks with an authority
That is either feared or awed.

Then, a world against itself,
Did not know his way.

Now a world is ordered
Because they heard him say:

‘They shall not hurt or destroy
In all my holy mountain; for the earth
Shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord
As the waters cover the sea.”

- GMC -