Memorial

Mind the present that

I give you

The bow is tied askew

Just for you

A rainbow

Of love

The cupboards

And the kitchen wall

Brushed bright in every hue

Just for you

Confound it

All the words

Shall fall

Forgotten paintings

Blank and white

Against the wall

Against the page

And always you shall see

The note that never set you free

Just for you

#

A certain warhorse

Teeth kicked askew

Hearts beating

Bites all its tongues in laughter;

Half without

and half  -

Forever After

A..J. Ponder 

There is a certain saying, never look a gift-horse in the mouth.  And yet some gifts come with their own sadness.  This poem refers rather obscurely to a gift from my colour-blind grandfather to my grandmother.  The bright colours intended to cheer her had a somewhat opposite effect, serving only to remind them both of their thwarted passion for art.







For more poetry please go to the Tuesday Poem blog by clicking on the link.

No Tuesday Poem: Sick

.

Questioning the Status Quo

Questioning the Status Quo

Why do we measure achievement in money?

Why do we allow ourselves to be held hostage by tradition?

Why is the food pyramid still taught in schools?

Why is birth control not encouraged along with aid to impoverished nations?

Why, after we won the right for a 40 hour working week, did we throw in the towel?

Why do older kids do better at school

and sport?

Why is there no consistency of care for our vulnerable youth?

Why do we have a four-term school year?

Why were women expected to stay at home,

expected to work,

and finally expected to do both?

Why does everybody shrug and say,

that's the way it is, because that's the way it's always been.,

Since when has that lie been an acceptable answer?

Many things have a long and revered history,

racism

slavery

cannibalism...

Fine, the history isn't revered, but at the time

Such behaviours were accepted as normal,

even respected, worshiped,

as the order of things.

The fight against the old evils isn't over,

while the fight against new evils has just begun.

But let us not start with,

"That is the way things have always been."

In the past they were worse.

Don't we have more hope than that for the future?

For the youth we farm out
to schools to welcome them in
and throw them away
four times a year,

How could we care so little? 

A..J. Ponder 

Sometimes it's not the perfect answer that is needed but the perfect question. Sometimes it seems to me that we do things simply because they seem the right thing to do, or we use emotion or tradition or simply what other people are doing to make our decisions rather than looking at all the information objectively. 

It seems wrong to allow ourselves to become so complacent, especially now when times are tough and making good decisions is more important than ever.  Because when there's no room to question the decisions we make, individually and as a society then there is no real freedom.

Don’t Care

Don’t Care

Don’t care didn’t care,
Don’t care was wild:
Don’t care stole plum and pear
Like any beggar’s child.

Don’t care was made to care,
Don’t care was hung:
Don’t care was put in a pot
And boiled till he was done.


Anon.


Another blast from the past.  It's got the brutality and morality of an old fairy tale, a very very short fairy tale, and I remember a certain grandmother having a particular fondness for the second verse.  It wasn't until later that I discovered there was a first verse to go with the second.  with it the poem makes somewhat more sense, and has a wonderful tone and gathering of rhythm that's kind of fun -- but mostly its great because now my children hate it almost as much as I did :)



A..J. Ponder