Waiting for new Krispy Kreme to open.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL April 8, 2013
There’s nothing worse than being a Cub’s fan. No fans are more loyal. But the Cubs always find a way to disappoint.
Annually…on Opening Day…hope is re-born. But by the end of every season Cubs fans are singing a stanza of Isaac Watts’ hymn, “O God, Our Help in Ages Past”: “Time, like an ever-rolling stream, bears all its sons away; they fly, forgotten, as a dream dies at the opening day.”
Today, the Cubs’ Opening Day is also April Fools’ Day!
Verse — Opening Day, 2013
Our starting pitcher goes for 8
innings without a run. His first
at bat, our first baseman will hit
a home run on the very first
pitch thrown. Our relievers will try
to lose the game–but a pop fly
will strand their runners–yes! We cheer!
A win! THIS WILL BE THE CUBS’ YEAR!
– Steve Shoemaker, Cubs fan, Urbana, IL
(In honor of Harry Lee Strong, also cursed)
I pulled off my glasses,
threw them on the bed–
and sat on them.
I started the car
and put it in reverse–
perhaps I should open
the garage door first…
I eat a big dinner
with beer or with wine,
then TV with junk food,
a bowl of ice cream–
the scale gives a scream.
I can’t find my cell phone,
all passwords are gone.
Your name may be somewhere,
but not in my brain.
There’s never a bathroom
that I can pass by.
I go to the bedroom–
I can’t recall why.
– Steve Shoemaker, March 19, 2013
“I look in the mirror and what do I see? A toothless wonder comin’ after me. I want to be young again” I’m thinking after the tooth extraction. It’s my rendition of Swing low, sweet chariot’s “I looked over Jordan and what did I see….”
Who is this older me and the Me that’s comin’ after me? Has God ever lost a tooth? Has God ever looked in the mirror and protested the reflection? Has God ever stepped on the scale in the morning, counted the days on the calendar, googled the weather channel, picked up the dog’s poop, poured Mirilax in the coffee to stay “regular”? Taken three Ibuprofen to keep the swelling down? Has God ever come to the end of a day and wondered why the dentist said “Good Morning!”
Congressional leaders are singing off key, inviting a national food fight. They want us to believe they’re soul-singers. But the sound is wooden. No heart. No soul. Instead we hear only of sequestration, protestation, damnation, remonstration, and gyration, but no gestation, no universal gun registration. Only sequestration.
Bring in Beyoncé! “Swing low, sweet chariot, coming fo’ to carry me home. I looked over Jordan and what did I see? A band of angels comin’ after me, comin’ fo’ to carry me home.”
If you agree that Congress is acting like the prisoners before Beyoncé came to their rescue, send this link to your Congressional Representatives. Tell ’em Paul Robeson, Johnny Cash, Etta James, and Beyoncé told you to. 🙂
There once was an Illinois poet
Who had few publications to show it.
The editors read,
But then they all said
Your verses are always inchoate.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, Feb. 27, 2013
Sent this morning to the inchoate editor. 🙂
Another versified look into the private life of Steve Shoemaker:
“What I Carry from the Kitchen Each Morning”
–2 boxes of cereal under my left arm
–1 large glass glass between 2 fingers & thumb of left hand
–1 gallon of 2% milk by the handle with remaining 2 fingers of that hand
–With my right hand, 1 bowl containing a spoon & 4 pills
on a plate with a table-knife balanced precariously on the edge
–1 piece of buttered toast atop the bowl
–a jar of red raspberry preserves clutched between right forearm & where my waist used to be
–An eagerness to break my fast
Steve: Sounds like you’re pretty well-waisted even before you break the fast. Maybe a sequel verse for full-disclosure…about the rest of the meal – the stack of pancakes or the waffles, the half-pound of bacon, the maple syrup, the butter, and the three-cheese omelet.
the worm
unknown insinuated itself in-
side the mind of the communicator,
insistently removing all the in-
formation that was thought to be secure.
…
the end
of facebook, youtube, ibm and e-
mail now is certain: malware winning o-
ver anti-virus systems– the old e-
vil adam-lurking where there is no prayer.
…
[Chinese Hackers Infiltrate
New York Times Computers
Jan. 31, 2013]
– Steve Shoemaker, Jan. 31, 2013
NOTE: Click HERE for the NYT story.
The St. Louis Post-Dispatch published this piece on the Roman Catholic Cardinal with the red cap and the late Stan Musial who wore the red cap of the St. Louis Cardinals. Click “One cardinal remembers another: Cardinal Timothy Dolan on Stan Musial” for an interesting read.
“Dog Strikes Back at Cyberspace” brought this reply, or so I thought, from good friend Steve Shoemaker (aka “Shoe” ) in Urbana, Illinois. He seemed to have taken Sebastian’s side in the Shoe War.
Verse — “Heal”
I taught my dog to heel,
not so she’d be a slave,
but so she’d always be
safe to walk alongside of me.
…
When first I used a lead,
a leash and collar, she
would pull and jerk and try
to run away. She thought that I
…
was cruel and mean to make
her suffer so. But now
she leaves her pen with glee
as we, a team, explore the world.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, January 26, 2012
NOTE: The word “my” was not bolded or italicized in the Steve’s email. “Views from Edge” bolded and italicized “my” on the assumption that the Verse’s author was holding himself up as a man of virtue in contrast to the bad dog owner who hadn’t trained his dog properly. It turns out that “Dog Strikes Back at Cyberspace” wasn’t anywhere near his radar screen when he penned his Verse. Follow-up email from Steve: “Stop being so self-centered–I was not thinking of you and your sodden shoe at all when I wrote this. I wrote this for ___________” (who had asked him for a poem on healing in preparation for a sermon). 🙂
I think I’ll take a trip to Urbana for training… as a dog trainer…and healing.
Views from the Edge 