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Category Archives: poetry
Talking About God…
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Another Moment to Love
Another moment of life –
another moment to love.
“The dam bursts…”
“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…
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John
I met some wonderful new friends there, too, and saw some great signs…
Jayda
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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!
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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!”
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
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
Dear Readers
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
“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
The Bad Guys and the Good Guys
Do we see what we expect to see
when we look at one another?
Caricatures of the “them”
and caricatures of the”us.”
Exaggerated images of
villains and saints – of the
stupid, ignorant, ugly, scary,
evil, threatening, noble, kind,
beautiful, brave, and wise. Cardboard
cutouts of humanity.
We better get them before they
get us, right?
And we build up the hate, and
ignore any efforts at friendship
and cooperation and peace.
Because where’s the fun in that?
Maybe we like being angry. Self-
righteous. Offended. Frightened.
We better get “them” before they
get “us,” right?
The bad guys are the good guys
and the good guys are the bad guys,
depending on where you’re standing.
If A=B and B=C, then A=C
and the bad guys and the good guys are the same.
But we better get “them” before they
get “us,” right?
– Karen Molenaar Terrell
“Who is thine enemy that thou shouldst love him? Is it a creature or a thing outside thine own creation? Can you see an enemy, except you first formulate this enemy and then look upon the object of your own conception?… Simply count your enemy to be that which defiles, defaces, and dethrones the Christ-image that you should reflect.”
– Mary Baker Eddy
An Ode to Boxing Day
Ode to Boxing Day
It’s a humble holiday, tucked in between
Christmas and New Year’s, but it’s really keen.
Things look a little bedraggled, it’s true
The tree’s a little droopy and no longer new
The movies and music of the Christmas season
Are getting on our nerves now, and we’re seeing no reason
To eat even one more sugary oversweet sweet
It’s time for broccoli and carrots (maybe hold on the beets)
The pressure for perfection comes off on this day,
the toys have been opened, and it’s come time to play.
And if before we were wearing faux holiday cheer
to blend in with the others and not Scroogey appear
It’s time now to be genuine, and honest and real.
The food banks are empty, people still need a warm meal.
The homeless and hungry and jobless and alone
still need love and care, still need a home.
So maybe we can celebrate the day after Christmas
by keeping the spirit of hope alive,
we might make that our business.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell, from *A Poem Lives on My Windowsill*
Christmas Moon
Christmas morning walk…
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 