For Mother's Day

Honor On Her
10 May 2014

As soon as she's pregnant
A prospective mother dreams.
Most of them are poignant
As she plans and schemes.
She has very high hopes
As she suffers and copes.

On this day we honor the women
Who labored to give us birth,
Who gave their all for our beginnin'
And fostered us on this earth.
The name I value above any other
Is the sacred name of Mother.

When I Heard at the Coming of Twilight

When I first read this poem, it impacted me. On reflection, I wondered if it could be improved by rhyming.

When I Heard at the Coming of Twilight
14 January 2013
Original by Walt Whitman

When I heard with the coming of twilight
How my name had been received as luminary
In the capitol, still it was not a happy night
For me that followed; and else, when I made merry
Or when my plans were fully completed
Still I was not entirely glad.
But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed
Of perfect health, refreshed, singing,
Drinking in all that was to be had
Of the ripe breath of autumn's bringing,
When I saw the full moon above the land
Grow pale and disappear in the morning light,
When I wandered alone over the seastrand
And undressing, bathed, laughing with delight
In the cool waters, and saw the sun rise,
And when I thought of how my dear friend,
My lover, was on his way, a prize,
Oh, then I was happy to no end.
Then each breath tasted much sweeter—
And all that day my food nourished
Me more—and the beautiful day passed fleeter,
And the next came equally flourished—
And with the next, at evening, ecstasy,
My friend came. Later as an underscore,
While all was still, I heard the sea
Roll slowly, continually up the shore.
I heard the hissing, rustling liquidly
Upon the sands, as directed to me, murmuring
To congratulate me, for the one I love avidly
Lay sleeping by me under the same covering.
In the cool of the night, without sound,
In the autumn moonbeams, his face was inclined
Towards me, and his arm lay lightly around
My breast—and that night was happiness enshrined.


When I heard at the Close of the Day
(No. 11, from ‘Calamus’ written circa 1859)
by Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

WHEN I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd
        with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night
        for me that follow'd;
And else, when I carous'd, or when my plans were accomplish'd, still
        I was not happy;
But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect health,
        refresh'd, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn,
When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and disappear in the
        morning light,
When I wander'd alone over the beach, and undressing, bathed,
        laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise,
And when I thought how my dear friend, my lover, was on his way
        coming, O then I was happy;
O then each breath tasted sweeter—and all that day my food nourish'd
        me more—and the beautiful day pass'd well,
And the next came with equal joy—and with the next, at evening, came
        my friend;
And that night, while all was still, I heard the waters roll slowly
        continually up the shores,
I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands, as directed to
        me, whispering, to congratulate me,                        


For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in
        the cool night,
In the stillness, in the autumn moonbeams, his face was inclined
        toward me,
And his arm lay lightly around my breast—and that night I was happy.

Retool The School

They're going to replace the elementary school I attended. I went to the website, reviewed the plans and here's my reaction:


Retool The School
10 Oct 2012

The new blueprints for elementary instruction
Look like cost-cutting cookie-cutter construction.
I'm not impressed, it makes me want to wail.
It looks like the hybrid of church and jail.
There are uglier buildings of some manner
Built by the Soviet Union's central planner.
I'm wondering, "Did the architect goof,
Or is that a train trestle on the roof?"
There's masonry veneer, that's in style now
And ought to last for a while, anyhow.
I remember as a child climbing on a rack
In the gym for a better view of the track
Going east to Colorado roadways.
The school in Monument Valley displays
The local scenery and cultural fame.
Why can't Monticello's do the same?
Would it spoil plans and be unsound
To make the upper windows round?
How about if the windows were set
With a stained-glass alphabet?
I'm sure the plan is sensible
And it's design is defensible,
But could it be an inspiration
To some future generation?
Instead of having to go there and pretend,
What if students were excited to attend?
Hopefully the interior decorations
Will stimulate aspirations.
Isn't it the committee's duty
Not to mistake novelty for beauty?
This probably is closing the barn door
After the horse has escaped,
The contract has been awarded and more
It's too late for plans to be reshaped.

Clan Plan

Clan Plan

by Al Smith

18 April 2010

Two phone calls: one of information

And a second one of expectation,

Clarification, explanation and examination

All to avoid the exasperation

Of cross-communication.

Whether or not we’ll be able

To match each other’s timetable,

Exploring each possibility

To the point of incontrovertibility

Coming up with a solution

And making a resolution

Of whether to go or stay

And what will work each day.

With my nephew’s move everything changed

Now my whole life’s become rearranged.

I used to always go there

Now everybody’s coming here.

Instead of making reservations

I don’t have to change locations.

It seems like in a blink

I’m having to rethink

And this paradigm shift

Leaves me a bit miffed.

In spite of feeling somewhat bemuddled

I want to make plans that won’t be scuttled.