Poem – Page 2 – Ruth E. Hendricks

My Conversation With God – Guest Blog

My conversation with God 7/13/13

I don’t want to talk about the Treyvon Benjamin Martin story

Because it’s been told before because I know how it ends

black boy dead boy no boy wins.

And you,

you were supposed to be watching

keeping him from harm.

His mother prayed and prayed and

you said you would she believed

you could

he was the one in the hood

and you just didn’t.

Maybe you looked away for a second

got distracted,

heard thousands calling your name

so much you couldn’t hear him

couldn’t decipher it from the voices

the noises,

maybe you confused it with a cheer

when the field goal was good,

or a hymn that was really loud

maybe you didn’t like what he had to say

all young and un-educated like.

but really,

how long would it have taken,

how long did it take

for you to call

for him to leave,

join you,

be rewarded

such a short time

in your care.

Was it just too dark that night? Was he just too dark that night?

They say he looked like all the others, “all the other punks that get away”.

— a poem by Cj Coleman

Cj teaches in the Pittsburgh Public Schools, is a Western Pennsylvania Writing Project Fellow (U of Pittsburgh) and a member of Madwomen in the Attic (Carlow University)

Cj emailed me this poem and I found this photograph in my archives to accompany her words.

Hoodie Day March 30, 2012 Pittsburgh Public Schools

July 19, 2013 by Ruth Categories: Guest Blog, poetryTags: Hoodie Day Pittsburgh, Madwomen in the Attic, photography, Poem, poetry, postaday, school, social justice, teacher, Trayon Martin, verdict, Western Pennsylvania Writing Project, writing 7 Comments

Now YOU are Six, Jack!

Now We Are Six

When I was One,
I had just begun.
When I was Two,
I was nearly new.
When I was Three
I was hardly me.
When I was Four,
I was not much more.
When I was Five,
I was just alive.
But now I am Six,
I’m as clever as clever,
So I think I’ll be Six now

for ever and ever.

-A.A. Milne

John Patrick McGrath — Happy Birthday John Patrick (Jack). Here is a poem for you on your special day.

March 21, 2013March 20, 2013 by Ruth Categories: PhotographyTags: childhood, family, grandmother, grandson, happy birthday, Now You Are Six, Poem 13 Comments

Mirror Mirror On The Wall

Convex traffic mirror. At the zoo. Not a monkey. Self- portrait.

Maybe I got the title after viewing the scary preview of the movie which is coming out June first. No dwarfs to be seen. Definitely not for children.

And then I researched convex mirror and find the Pulitzer Prize winning book Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror and the lengthy title poem of the same name by John Ashberry.

Wikipedia says “Round convex mirrors called Oeil de Sorcière (French for “sorcerer’s eye”) were a popular luxury item from the 15th century onwards, shown in many depictions of interiors from that time.^[1] With 15th century technology, it was easier to make a regular curved mirror (from blown glass) than a perfectly flat one.”

And of course they mention the Arnolfini Portrait by Jan van Eyck which everyone is familiar with but may not know the painting’s title. See the convex mirror in the details if you click on the Arnolfini Portrait link and scroll to the section Mirror.

Okay, just trying to make a photograph of me a bit interesting to others. Convex mirrors seem interesting to me.

May 25, 2012November 19, 2019 by Ruth Categories: PhotographyTags: Arnolfini Portrait, convex mirror, Jan van Eyck, John Ashberry, photography, Pittsburgh Zoo, Poem, Poem Hunter, poetry, postaday, reflections, self-portrait, Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror, Snow White and the Huntsman, travel 6 Comments

Annual Crayon Peel and “Art Room Ritual” Poem

About 5 years ago, my friend Lara E. framed the poem in the newspaper, adding the crayon paper peelings around it. Last night at my final video class I scanned it and uploaded it to the blog while I waited for the screening to start. This years crop yielded lots of crayons. The most whole crayons at the end of the year are violet ones.

June 17, 2010June 17, 2010 by Ruth Categories: photo of the dayTags: art room, childhood, coloring, crayons, memories, photo of the day, Pittsburgh, Poem, poetry, scent 15 Comments

“By Their Sidewalks You Will Know Them” Guest Poet Timons Esaias

Down to the Concrete First Time in Two Weeks — Tim's Poem Came to Mind as I Admired the Concrete First Time in Two Weeks

*NOTE to poet(s) not knowing HTML code I am restricted by the format of this blog template and or the limits of Text/Edit from word.doc to Mac? and the poem will not publish in the original format. It is a five stanza poem and the breaks occur after -out. -Way. -human. – eternal. Hence the hyphens for space and breath.

By Their Sidewalks You Will Know Them

–

Originally there were eleven Commandments

Moses, perhaps confused by the unfamiliar

snow, ice, and sidewalk,

botched one, and left it out.

–

But Buddha said that though Life is Pain,

falling on ice is gratuitous pain

and those who cause it, by neglect,

should never escape the Wheel of Rebirth;

and Lao-Tzu agreed, for those who will not

clear the path will never find the Way.

–

Zoroaster, in the endless war of light

against ice, demanded diligence;

claimed that those who surrender

the public way to the Enemy

have empty souls,

can scarcely be regarded as human.

–

The Prophet, regarding sidewalks and snow,

is silent; but his sura

Sand Drifting Against the Caravanserai Gate

is thought to apply. The condemnation there

is brutal and eternal.

–

Plato counted safe sidewalks as fundamental

to the ideal Republic, noting that those remiss

in this clear duty lacked all character;

and his pupil – perceptive, immortal Aristotle-

further declared, famously, that

lack of character

is destiny.

Timons Esaias

Timons Esaias is a writer and poet living in Pittsburgh. His short stories, ranging from literary to genre, have been published in fourteen languages. He has had over a hundred poems in print, including Spanish, Swedish and Chinese translations, in such markets as 5AM, Bathtub Gin, Main Street Rag, Willard & Maple, Elysian Fields Quarterly: The Literary Journal of Baseball and many others. He has also been a finalist for the British Science Fiction Award, and won the Asimov’s Readers Award. His poetry chapbook, The Influence of Pigeons on Architecture, sold out two editions. He is Adjunct Faculty at Seton Hill University, in the Writing Popular Fiction M.F.A. Program. This poem was originally published in hotmetalpoets.com when it existed.

February 19, 2010February 19, 2010 by Ruth Categories: poetry, Things in the SnowTags: city scene, HIghland Park, photo of the day, photography, Pittsburgh, Poem, poet, poetry, shovel, sidewalk, snow, Timons Esaias, urban scene, winter scene 17 Comments

Tag: Poem

Now YOU are Six, Jack!

Like this:

Mirror Mirror On The Wall

Like this:

Annual Crayon Peel and “Art Room Ritual” Poem

Like this:

“By Their Sidewalks You Will Know Them” Guest Poet Timons Esaias

Like this:

My conversation with God 7/13/13

I don’t want to talk about the Treyvon Benjamin Martin story

Because it’s been told before because I know how it ends

black boy dead boy no boy wins.

And you,

you were supposed to be watching

keeping him from harm.

His mother prayed and prayed and

you said you would she believed

you could

he was the one in the hood

and you just didn’t.

Maybe you looked away for a second

got distracted,

heard thousands calling your name

so much you couldn’t hear him

couldn’t decipher it from the voices

the noises,

maybe you confused it with a cheer

when the field goal was good,

or a hymn that was really loud

maybe you didn’t like what he had to say

all young and un-educated like.

but really,

how long would it have taken,

how long did it take

for you to call

for him to leave,

join you,

be rewarded

such a short time

in your care.

Was it just too dark that night? Was he just too dark that night?

They say he looked like all the others, “all the other punks that get away”.

Cj teaches in the Pittsburgh Public Schools, is a Western Pennsylvania Writing Project Fellow (U of Pittsburgh) and a member of Madwomen in the Attic (Carlow University)

Cj emailed me this poem and I found this photograph in my archives to accompany her words.

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