Tag Archives: Poetry

No Christians were there

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No Christians were there at the birth
of Jesus. (For “…disciples were
first called Christians in Antioch”
years later.) But were those who were
there believers? the shepherds, the wise
astrologers, the non-father,
the Blessed mother? Did they see
with eyes of faith, or more like we
do: wonder, ponder, doubt and stare
at the small baby stabled there…?

– Verse “No Christians were there” by Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, December 20, 2013

    Editor’s Comment

Sitting at the computer in the second floor study, I watched a van pull up and empty out. Five people with pamphlets. The doorbell rang. Two men, one older, one very young, wanted to talk about the gospel. Impressed by their earnestness and their willingness to go door-to-door in the sweltering heat, I listened for a long time. I finally asked them who Jesus Christ was. “He was the Son of God.” “Okay, but who was Jesus of Nazareth.” Again they answered, “He was the Son of God.” “Let me ask a different question. What was Jesus’ religion?” “He was a Christian,” they answered. “No he wasn’t,” said I, “he was the Christ. You can’t follow yourself! He was a faithful Jew.” They were aghast at the thought. We continued to talk for 45 minutes. There were no Christians at the birth.

Verse – “Blessed Mary”

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The CHOIR magnificently sang
Bach’s LOUD complex “Magnificat!”
The orchestra was small, but rang
Out BRASS and DRUMS and ORGEL that
Reverberated through the Hall.

That GOD was GREAT there was no doubt,
The fugue repeated that till all
Could not help but join in the SHOUT!

(but then the oboe d’amore stood
and quietly began with D
a tune of slave and poverty…
the cello cello cello droned

and high above soprano mild
sang about the coming child.)

– Steven R. Shoemaker & Margaret R. Grossman, December 13, 2013

Two plus four

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…… 2 + 4 =

Laughter and giggling,
Crying, hair-pulling,
Yelling, “That’s not fair!”
Snuggles and duets.

Two runny noses
Wobbly first steps
Sibling jealousy
Sibling loyalty

Car seats and strollers,
Diapers and powder,
Cribs and big-girl-beds,
Two shoes but lost socks,

Exhausted parents,
Yelling in restaurants,
Rich baby-sitters,
No baby this year.

-Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, December 11, 2013

Verse – Stimulus and Response

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eight adults were at the party
all were sharing air and stories
three were couples two were singles
married folks heard few surprises
tales were old though some were funny

one would listen as their partner
heard a second use a keyword
and would know the family legend
for the thousandth time told retold
the same pauses the same laughter

the same pride that in our family
there was such an odd character

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, December 7, 2013

Verse – 2 Too Clean Limericks

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My friend Steve reads way too widely sometimes. The following are rated R or at least PG.

An Old Roué’s Laments

There are no extra-marital thrills,
My ardor grows hot and then chills,
For my wife is quite sly,
She forbids me to try,
And she counts all my little blue pills!

On computers, I never watch porn
No memory makes me forlorn:
My passwords are long gone,
I can’t get my log-on,
Drinking buddies all hold me in scorn.

– S. Robertson

Note from Steve: I pass these on, in spite of their semi-scurrilous content, because the news these days is mainly depressing and I needed a laugh and thought you might, too.
– Steve Shoemaker

Elizabeth Barrett Browning: Earth Crammed with Heaven

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Earth is crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees
Takes off his shoes –
The rest sit around it and pluck blackberries.

– Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Join the Call to Artists to take off your shoes before climate departure leaves us with no blackberries to pluck. Read yesterday’s post: Before the Planetary Requiem

The Waiting Room

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The voices of the visitors
would drop when they entered
the almost empty anteroom
and stood before the blond wood door
of her positive pressure room.

The air could exit but could not
bring more bad bugs into her lungs
immuno-compromised by stays
in this or other hospitals.

Her breathing stopped on the 4th night
as cancer squeezed another last
breath from exhausted failing lungs.
The empty room keeps breathing out.

[Abigail A. Salyers, 12/24/42–11/6/13, received a Ph. D. in nuclear physics from George Washington University, later did Post-Doctoral studies in Microbiology in Virginia & was the first female tenured Professor in the microbiology department at the Univ. of Illinois. She was elected President of the 40,000 member American Society for Microbiology for 2001-2. She was the author of several books & hundreds of professional articles in her field.]

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, November 7, 2013

November Frost

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White hoarfrost
red Sumac
leaves shriveled
red glistening
in November
morning sun
between seasons
of shriveled
and not yet
leaving blue eyes
red with brilliance
beyond belief

– Gordon C. Stewart, November 5, 2013

I’m no poet, but sometimes I have to pretend I am. My early memories include the beauty of the Sumacs along the coast in Rockport, MA. Every time we left the house, the Sumacs were right there inside the yard with the white picket fence.

There is something about a Sumac tree that is all its own, the red pods in summer set among the green leaves, the red-orange leaves in autumn, the leafless willowy structure with a bare beauty all its own in winter.

This morning’s walk with Barclay, the five month old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, took us through the fields covered with hoarfrost. We came to the Sumacs. Barclay sniffed the ground. I, too sniffed. Such brilliance goes far beyond belief.

Verse – Late October Rain

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Later it would not be grey,
dismal, lukewarm, fall in waves.
Now it soaks the fallen leaves,
mutes their colors, strips the tree.

Clouds and fog…is fog a cloud
held close to the ground by grief
at the loss of summer? Half
harvest completed, work stalled.

City street lights dim above
stay on in the daynight gloom.
Windshield wipers swipe the storm.
There is nothing here to love.

– A cheerful verse 🙂 by Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, October 31, 2013.

Chocolate Chips

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Although I eat a small handful
right from the bowl (poured there because
there is no crinkly sound tell-tale),
just like Grandpa D did – cookies
need just half as much as are called
for on the yellow package (they,
of course, each year want more chips sold
than were the year before), so I
achieve the perfect dough-chip mix
by not following directions –
just like the old man when he’d fix
them (he taught me sales resistance…)
but then he’d put the Nestle chips
he’d saved into the Cream of Wheat
(you can’t eat too much chocolate.)

– Verse “Chocolate Chips”
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, October 29, 2013