Category Archives: poetry

Choosing to Live

Posted on by
13

Mourning Mom, grieving with Dad,
responsible for another person’s
health and finances and life,
and a target for gossip and fabrication
by a pillar of my community –
I am battle-weary and sick –
at maybe the lowest point in my life.
And I’m thinking that maybe
I could just slide down deep into
sickness, slip into sleep forever, fade
out and die, and that wouldn’t be so bad.

And from some somewhere there comes
a moment of clarity – a question
at the crossroads: You can consent
to death, or decide to live.
It’s your choice.
Life won’t always be fun and easy.
Choosing life will mean complications,
responsibilities, and battles. It will mean
a commitment. It will take some courage.
That path is not going to be all rainbows
and butterflies and starry nights.

And I nod my head. I understand
what I’m taking on if I choose life.
I will encounter mean people. I will
have to balance checking accounts. I will
have to deal with grief and mourning
and loss and heartache and pain and lies
and disappointment and failure. But there are
people depending on me to choose life.
I am needed here. And there are people
that I need, too. And people here I love.
And sometimes there will be rainbows. And
butterflies. And starry nights.

And so I choose life.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

A Couple More Moz Poems

Posted on by
Reply

Found a couple more poems Moz poems that I’d like to share.

Here’s one she wrote for my dad on their 27th anniversary:
Happy anniversary, Dee, my pet –
27 years and we aren’t through, yet.

We’ve shared tears, triumphs, ups and downs.
Sometimes we’re heroes, sometimes clowns.

But always caring for each other
Living as one, yet trying not to smother.

Our individuality, blending instead
to make a family, a home, truly wed.

Love and kisses,
Moz, Mozzy, Colleen

And this one – from Moz and Dad’s Christmas letter, 1974:
I always bite off
more’n I can chew.
I know it sounds corny,
but, honest, it’s true.

The school here, the chuirch there,
the errands to run.
The kids’ things; they’re everywhere.
Sometimes it’s not fun.

The dogs, cats, cows, ducklings,
keep us hopping like mad.
If you don’t hop just right,
things really get bad.

Like rounding them up
in a deluge of rain,
then slipping in poopoos,
it could drive you insane.

Well, say now! It’s Christmas!
I’ll strike a good chord,
Let petty things vanish,
and put up the sword.

Things never were better,
to that I’ll avow.
Got a gall off at college
learning “why, where, and how.”

The boys are still growing
and marching in bands
They like to go skiing
at good “Crystal Land.”

Dee’s painting and painting
mixin’ the right hue.
His new maps are progressing
and his hours are too.

I’m singing at weddings
and sometimes at church.
I hope to plant dogwoods
and maybe a birch.

Dear friends, everywhere,
I’m thinking of you.
So please don’t be mad
at my letters so few.

Seasons greeting to all
and to all a Good New Year.
Love, Peace, Joy, and Power
to all of you dear.
– Colleen Molenaar

 

Who knew?!

Posted on by
4

My mom passed away a couple weeks ago and yesterday morning I rummaged through some of the boxes that we moved out of her and Dad’s apartment, looking for old photos and mementos that might be meaningful for my sons, brothers, niece and nephew – who were all going to join us in the afternoon for a visit with my dad. And in my rummaging I came upon a treasure! A folder full of poems that Moz had written – including a poem for each of her grandchildren! We had no idea that Moz wrote poetry in her free time! Who knew?!

The poems she wrote for her grandchildren belong to them – and it’s not my place to share them with the world – but I thought I might share a couple of Moz’s other offerings. Behold, Moz’s poetry:

Poem for a Tiny Bird

A tiny little birdie,
I think a chickadee,
was hanging on a swaying branch
and looking right at me.
His eyes were bright, his movements
quick – he didn’t miss a seed
as he pecked
away at the birch tree tassle
to satisfy his need.

We watched each other for
quite awhile
and then as if by command
he twittered “good bye” and flew away
I knew I’d seen something grand.

– Colleen Molenaar

Bootsie

Bootsie, oh, Bootsie
the masked-face cat,
So sleek and pretty, with
a nose sort of flat
She lives in an apartment
though she’d rather roam
Her world is much smaller, yet
there’s no place like home

She loves to eat jelly
right off the bread
And dried powdered cream
really goes to her head
She sits on her deck
over-looking the court,
watching kiddies and kittens
and creatures of sort
Bootsie, oh, Bootsie
I’ll come back one day
You’ll greet me with love,
because that’s your way.
-Colleen Molenaar

 

 

If it doesn’t come from Truth…

Image

Reply

come-from-truth

Talking About God…

Image

Reply

talking-with-god

Another Moment to Love

Posted on by
Reply

Another moment of life –
another moment to love.

another-moment-to-love

“The dam bursts…”

Posted on by
1

“You always had the power, my dear.” – Glinda the Good Witch

My friend, Randy, has given me permission to share his poem. It perfectly captures what I felt yesterday at the Bellingham Women’s March:

The hard and steady tread of feet
on the sidewalk, in the street,
always forward, no retreat,
The dam bursts,
its flood o’ertakes,
leaving miracles in its wake…
– Randy Kercher

I arrived at the Bellingham Women’s March a little earlier than most people. I’d gone by myself and wasn’t sure I’d be able to find anybody I knew there – but no sooner had I parked than a couple of retired teachers from my old school district walked past my car. We all grinned when we saw each other and gave each other hugs, and walked together to the city courthouse, where the march would start. I ended up running into a lot familiar faces there – former students; teaching colleagues; neighbors – some of my all-time favorite people…

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
John

I met some wonderful new friends there, too, and saw some great signs…

Jayda
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

I stood near the front of the crowd when I first arrived. There weren’t a lot of people then. About a half hour later I started working my way towards the back to get a group photo – and I went back and back and back and still didn’t come to the end. By the time we started on the march they’d had to make the walk longer to accommodate all the people – we were looping ourselves – the people in front were finishing their march and there were still people in the back who hadn’t even started, yet. The estimates are 6,000 people – and that was just in Bellingham!

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

I so appreciated the police officers who were at the march. They were friendly and smiling and supportive. At the end of the march, I said to one of the officers, “We did good today, didn’t we?” And he smiled back and said, “Yes, you did!”

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

It was awesome to be in the midst of thousands of people all working together for a better world. There was an amazing power in that. I left the march feeling grateful and hopeful for humanity.

The Sleeping Giant Awakes

Posted on by
Reply

My dear Humoristian hooligans,

Fear not! No one can take our joy from us! And now is our chance to prove it. Let us march forth into battle against greed, hate, me-firstness, indifference, ignorance, arrogance, fear, pride, pomposity, spite, smugness, stodginess, complacency, and bossybritches bullying and bigotry, with rainbow flags flying and really cool pussy hats affixed to our heads, A “sleeping giant” has awakened and it is filled with a “terrible resolve” (Isoroku Yamamoto). Ooh baby. The world ain’t seen nothing, yet. 🙂

Yea and verily, let’s go out there and make the world a better place than it was yesterday.

xoxoxo
Karen

my-joy

Dear Readers

Posted on by
5

Dear readers,

Ahem. Yeah. You might have noticed I am shoveling out the prose this morning. What happened was – well… I thought I’d clean out my “Drafts” box – so I’m tossing stuff out and re-working some of my old drafts and posting things I’d forgotten I’d had in there.

I do apologize for any inconvenience this may be causing in your email boxes today.

Sincerely,
Karen

Little by Little

Posted on by
5

“Old age” comes little by little, I think –
little surrenders of who we are
to the experts and authorities,
to convenience and comfort –
someone tells us we need to stay out
of the sun, to eat only certain foods,
to travel only at the right times
and to the right places,
and to wash our hands after every
handshake and human touch –
and we listen and obey.

And so we spend our days in “preventative”
exams – counting the pills into our trays –
hoping to increase the number of our days.
And little by little we relinquish
the small pleasures that make life
meaningful –  the joy of adventure,
noon-time lunch  with our faces turned
towards the sun,  whipped cream on
our cocoa, shaking hands  with new friends,
and listening to our own hearts to create lives
worth living.

And we lose our lives in a fear of death.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell