Reflections on Sunday.

Here is a short ditty I wrote several years ago.  It is not a commentary on my current pastor, but rather a commentary on the human condition.  Church can be a quiet place, and if you happen not to be in tune to the message on a particular Sunday, you might find yourself drifting off.

NOT SO SPIRITUAL STRUGGLE

Today in church

my foot went to sleep.

The sermon was long

and not real deep.

The rest of me was struggling too,

but only my foot went to sleep.

Dennis Price

  

Sunday Reflection

It's Sunday.  I choose to take time out today to go and worship God. I hope you do also.  Reflection on those things that are only known by faith are sometimes lost in the constant flow of other information.  When we are forced to stop for a while and unplug from the repetitive drone, we can often enjoy life at a level we may not have felt since we were children. I was fortunate to be in an area with few clouds as the full moon came up last night.  It was spectacular.  I wrote this poem years ago to try and put into words one of those "aha" moments.

          GOD’S PEBBLE

There was a man upon life’s road 

who rarely wavered from his task,

walked with purposed step and true,

until a pebble found his shoe.

And once inside, the pebble wore

upon his foot till stop, he must.

While kneeling down to get the stone

he saw a world he’d never known.

On his left he saw the sea,

breathed salt air, felt the breeze,

heard the crash of waves on sand,

felt a presence, not of man.

On his right huge mountains rose

rugged peaks, towering trees.

A pristine lake, reflections bore

that magnified God’s bounteous store.

He took the pebble from his shoe,

once more started on his way.

But, stopped and looked from time to time

as God’s small pebble came to mind.

Dennis Price

Dragonfly

Did you ever wonder how you were seen by other animals?  What about the amazing dragonfly?  Here are some thoughts on the subject.

Dragonfly

A dragonfly

with bulging compound eyes

zigs, zags, and zips

across the sky

transparent wings a whir.

Landing lightly,

dainty,

sprightly,

on my shoulder now.

In kaleidoscope

it sees my face.

Dennis Price

Refrigerator Poetry

These are refrigerator magnets with words on them.  The idea is to put them in random order on the outside of your refrigerator door.  The words are then used as a pool from which you create poems.  As you use them up the poems become harder to make.  Some of the latter ones might even be bizarre. Here is a short example.

White rain,

water chain,

to spring,

then lake,

lazy moon to take

from sky to mist.             

Here are a couple more:  Try it using the words visible in the lead picture.

You think

I dream

Ask not why

Ugly black storm

Through flood

Frantic heave and boil

Ship gone

Beneath purple blood.

Dennis Price

Poetry, what is it?

Poetry is a little hard to define.  It has many forms and formats, and its subject matter is limitless.  I have my own ideas.  I think it should be understandable.  It really should be enjoyed more by your ears than by your eyes.  I always recommend reading poetry aloud.  When I was trying to learn the craft and hanging around with other poets, I found I enjoyed the ones who could craft a phrase with a rhythm and cleverness.  I understood their sentiment.  I belonged to groups whose members were from a wide range of backgrounds. Some were working people with very little formal training, and others were highly educated academics with impressive resumes.  There were enjoyable poets in both groups.  However, in the latter group there was a little hint of snobbery on occasion.  I remained true to my style and didn't try to reach too high in an attempt to impress my audience.  I wrote this poem and performed it at one of the monthly meetings.  I think everyone understood and there were more than a few smiling when I finished.  I hope you like it too.

I Salute You William Shakespeare

If I could just remember who wrote what,

and what they said,

I would quote them in my poetry,

the living and the dead.

I would be obtuse and dark,

droning on in endless prose.

not caring where my poem’s been

not knowing where it goes.

They’d think I’m educated,

worldly, pithy, hard.

For sure an academic.

cutting edge, avant garde.”

I would throw the cesspool at them

from bathroom to bordello.

A gasp, a blush, a whisper,

“He is such a brilliant fellow.”

They would clap when I was finished,

softly sigh, and nod assent.

And wonder if the others

had a clue of what I meant.

 Dennis Price

"...to the moon Alice."

I recall the old TV series, "The Honeymooners", with its characters Alice and Ralph Cramden.  Ralph would often threaten with balled up fist to send Alice to the moon.  Everyone knew that Alice really wore the pants in their relationship and that Ralph, despite all his bombastic rhetoric, was really a softie.  The memory of that great live television show was the catalyst for this short poem.

To the Moon

The tracks were laid

right to the Moon,

so Alice took the train.

She finally reached her limit

of hearing Ralph complain.

Dennis Price

Riding a Plow Horse

Have you ever ridden a plow horse?  If not, you may enjoy the experience without the bumps and bruises.

        OLD TRIGGER

Trigger was a plow horse

who, seldom saw a saddle.

I was just a big kid

who rarely rode a straddle.

I lived in the city,

away from field and barn.

When school was out I’d visit

Old Trigger on the farm.

I thought I’d try and ride him,

and made a split-bit bridle.

I knew it might not stop him,

but hoped it’d make him idle.

Uncle Barney’s saddle

was split right down the middle.

It was old, the leather dry,

the cinch strap cracked and brittle.

I saddled Trigger, led him round

beside an old steel drum.

I stood on top and jumped aboard

he snorted, bucked, and spun.

The summer sun was brutal

Old Trigger soon lost steam.

He plodded down the gravel road,

at plowing pace it seemed.

I tried to make him pick up speed

with kick, and click, and whistle.

Then I turned him toward the barn

and he became a missile.

I rocked back and grabbed the horn,

pulled hard on cotton reins.

But Trigger galloped faster

as he barreled down the lane.

The barn loomed large before us.

he stopped just past the door.

I became a yard dart,

flying headfirst to the floor.

When I regained my senses

I made this observation:

That you shouldn’t ride a plow horse

for fun or transportation.

Dennis Price

Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas Virgin Islands

I have been to St. Thomas on several occasions both as a Cruise Ship stop, and also to vacation.  On one particular trip, my last, I was unimpressed with my accommodations.  The small window unit would only provide cooling if you stood directly in front of it.  The weather was hot and humid.  Hundreds of tourists flooded the streets and shops of Charlotte Amalie from dawn till dusk.  The locals were surly and unhelpful. I couldn't wait to leave.  This poem was written to chronicle that visit.

Tropical Depression

Humid heat

no retreat

cranking down to

tropic beat.

Not to worry

we don’t hurry.

Sweat in eyes now

vision blurry.

Must find shelter

from this swelter.

Stuck in traffic,

Helter Skelter.

Where’s the hotel

in this black hell?

A.C. won’t work?

Oh! You don’t tell.

Spent my money,

wanted sunny.

Now I’m naked,

feel all runny.

Too late rain.

I’m insane.

Counting days till

outbound plane.

 Dennis Price

It's Raining

It's raining. Some light summer showers are falling this afternoon with a little distant rumbling.  It has been very hot lately, and we are all happy to see some nice cool rain falling.  I wrote a poem about this very type of event.  I hope you can relate.

God’s Symphony

The land is parched and dry

beneath the summer sun

and one might question,

why its been so long since rain

has spattered softly in the dust

until the droplets blend

in numbers large enough to

soak the crust and run in rivulets

steaming in the heat with

pitter, patter beat

backed up by lights

behind gray clouds

and roar of distant tympani?

First pianissimo, then forte

as the lightning cymbals crash

and drum roll thunder shakes

the core.

The howling wind joins in

for harmony and takes the

movement down to pianissimo

once more

then fades to blue.

Dennis Price

Freedom From Tyranny

How do we properly celebrate what has been left to us by those who have lived and fought the good fight before us?  We teach our children by example what must be done to preserve this fragile thing we know as freedom.  It can be  freedom to do great things,  freedom to worship as God leads us to, or freedom from the tyranny from a government run by unprincipled men who have forgotten who establishes government. Read Romans Chapter 13 where the apostle Paul instructs Christians on government and why it was established.  I am thankful everyday that I was allowed to be born here in the United States of America. Let's purpose to fight back against the tyranny that threatens our wonderful heritage.  Here is the definition of tyranny, followed by a shot poem I hope will inspire.

tyr·an·ny

ˈtirənē/

noun

1. cruel and oppressive government or rule.

   "people who survive war and escape tyranny"

   synonyms:

   despotism, absolute power, autocracy, dictatorship, totalitarianism,Fascism; More

   • a nation under cruel and oppressive government.
   • cruel, unreasonable, or arbitrary use of power or control.

     "she resented his rages and his tyranny"

   
   
2. 
   
   
   
   Memory
   
   Through the thin wall
   I heard my father’s voice.
   Long gone, but still there.
   
   

Dennis Price

July 4, 1776 - Happy Birthday U.S.A.

Today is my beautiful wife's birthday.  Happy Birthday Barbara.  Tomorrow is the 238th birthday of our nation, the United States of America.  I hope you will celebrate our great experiment in freedom and vow to do all you can to keep our forefathers dream alive.  God Bless America.

           AMERICA

Out of revolution,

the grip of monarch’s rule.

Driven by freedom.

Necessity.

Founded on values

from God’s holy book,

the glue that binds,

in trust,

its varied masses.

America

Through fire of war,

without,

within,

was forged in strength

a strong republic.

America

And though the vision dims

in her prosperity,

she rises to the challenge

when tyrants seek

to quell her voice.

America

Blessed by God,

we must hold those

values close

that bound

our loose knit colonies

in their infancy.

America

Dennis Price

It's summertime and the livin' is easy.  I love lying in a beautiful pool in the late afternoon just drifting along with the breeze and thinking about how lucky I really am.  I hope you enjoy my reflections.

Adrift

I lie adrift in an azure pool

with arms out stretched

in weightlessness

and shut my eyes behind

my shades

and gaze through eyelids

red with blood at

changing patterns light and dark.

The sun bares down

from cloudless sky

gulf breezes slowly

turn me round

and I can feel

my skin turn brown

as afternoon slips into night

and with it every troubling thought

fades on the gentle swells.

Dennis Price

Arkansas Swamp Marker

This photo is the actual site of the markers that were set after the Louisiana Purchase.  Two gum trees acted as the base line and meridian for surveying all the land in the western half of the U. S.  I wrote a poem to commemorate the feat.  I hope you enjoy it.

ARKANSAS SWAMP MARKER

West of the colonies,

wild and untamed,

lay a vast stretch of wilderness

owned by the French.

To the south, gulf breezes

cooled old New Orleans.

To the north was Canada’s

vast timbered realm.

In between there was Arkansas,

harsh and unyielding.

Caddo and Quapaw

had managed to stay.

In 1803 the French

had to sell it.

The young U.S. bought it

and moved on its claim.

They needed a marker

to anchor their survey.

A marker, in Arkansas’s

dark river swamps.

North from the mouth

of the Arkansas river.

West from the mouth

of the St Francis too.

Robbins met Brown on

the 10^th of November,

in a swamp full of

Cypress and Tupelo gum.

In 1815, they marked

two gum trees.

Base line and meridian

for westward expansion.

In six square mile townships

the new frontier grew.

All measured their boundaries

from an Arkansas swamp.

The settlers came,

moved partly by greed.

The Indians left,

without charity.

Modern surveys confirm it.

The point was the right one.

Those two stately gums

in an Arkansas swamp.

So the West was established,

and new States were added,

by shooting a line to

where Robbins met Brown

at the Tupelo gums

in an Arkansas swamp,

where few folks had been,

and few want to go.

The Louisiana Purchase

of President Jefferson.

Explored by the duo of

Lewis and Clark.

Was mapped and divided

by using two gum trees.

Deep in the heart

of an Arkansas Swamp.

Dennis Price