.
Many times the trip was made,
leaving Gulliver in the morning,
crossing the Mississippi River
late in the afternoon, then stopping
for the night in Walker, Minnesota
I thought of the river,
so gentle and tame here
just gathering itself
Before it reached the delta
it would be joined by the
Ohio and Missouri Rivers
and become a dramatic force
I think of man
We start slow
like the headwaters
and quietly advance
until, it seems,
We become ancient and
fierce like no other
We have our ideas, which
run wide and deep
like the river
sometimes spilling over
causing flood and damage
Eventually the river makes it
through the estuary joining
all gathering waters
and becomes part of
The Gulf of Mexico
In our part we have the
collision and resolutions
Our struggles and survivals
join others and become
part of the roaring ocean of people
Voices call after us, but
it is too late, we can
never return as we become
lost in our own roaring sea
Stanski
October 1, 2019 ^
Author: stevehaarman
AND THE ANGELS CAME
.
I think often about my son
The angels came and
Took him away
He was sick
There is no question
Alcohol and drugs
Destroyed his pancreas
Resulting in his being
A Type 1 diabetic
With life expectancy of 38
He cried to me about this
I could only tell him
That 38 was average, but
If he took care of himself
He could become an old man
Death came at the age of 43
Because he could not
Drift away from his addictions
He left his siblings with broken hearts
And me with a hole in my heart
His demons won; stronger than our prayers
Now at peace
His many friends stunned
They expected the outcome, but
Weren’t prepared for it
Their loss was heart felt
Two hundred came to his memorial in Bozeman
They did not curse the angels
But thanked God for his life
As did we, his family
Stanski
October 9, 2019 ^
TELL ME WHY
.
Three shrubs are planted
Receive equal attention
Fertilized, sun and water
Still they grow differently
One wonders why
Just a mystery of nature
Or some unknown influence
Will we ever know?
Three brothers
Close in age
Raised together
Sharing the same accommodations
Each grow
Uniquely different, but
With many similarities
What causes this?
Personal trials, tribulations
And experience as well as
Preparation and opportunity
Courage and effort
Shrub differentiation
Is more difficult to understand
Components of growth seem equal
Outcomes, as in real life,
Vary immensely
Stanski
October 9, 2019
THE REUNION
.
My mind moves in all directions
I am at peace, just affected
By an encounter with many first cousins
Some I have not seen in years
There is so much known and unknown
Trying to put it together in one day
It began, went on and finally ended
Then the heavy heart with the goodbyes
My maternal grandparents had seven children
They have all gone on to their rewards
When we count the cousins we reach twenty-six
Those who showed counted to ten
The deceased among us totaled four
Twelve couldn’t make it for one reason or another
Some brought along their spouses
Those there had stories and memories
So much, almost too much to share
From heartbreak events to those celebrated
The yarns, jokes and tales went on
And the food – how much can you eat?
Enough for a week and we had only a day
So emotional when it came to an end
There was laughing and sadness, but no crying
We vowed to do it all again
And share all the records we gathered
We’ll see how it goes – no one knows
But we’re glad we had this one day
Stanski
October 4, 2019 ^
WHAT ONE DOES
.
I bend
My knees are scraped
I look
There is slight bleeding
I cannot stop
People are depending on me
Continuing
I struggle
I must stop and rest
An aching back makes this demand
I hear barking
Dogs in the back ground
Searching for my scent
My heart quickens
Adrenalin flowing
What was mine was mine
And the money wrapped securely,
Tucked into my shirt was mine
It was owed to me, but
Withheld because of
A petty dispute
When opportunity presented
I took my due
Then was accused of stealing
No records existed
Just oral agreements
So now I am a thief, but
In their eyes only
I wanted to fade away
But I knew duty
There would be no magistrate
To exonerate me
I kept moving
My people were
Of solid stock
They needed a chance
I would provide it
Their ship was leaving
Courage
I told myself
No sound of dogs
I made it to the dock side
Just before the ship left port
Turned over my money
Said my farewell
I had accomplished
My aches, pains, and wounds would heal
Dogs will still bark
I had liberated friends
And now set myself free
With hope of a distant reunion
Stanski
September 30, 2019^
WHAT I LOOK FOR
.
I look at the sky and see stars
It is late at night; nearly early morning
I think of creation and Almighty God
The flow of all celestial bodies
I am in wonder of His majesty
Cannot comprehend His omnipotence
The moon is not visible tonight
But I know of its magnetic power
Low tides, high tides; outrageous
All part of His creative force
I sense the beauty of His mystery
Nothing is obvious of course
His challenge to us is to believe
Oh, such a dazzling presentation
Our thinking cannot compare
Yet how can there be hesitation
Utter disbelief is not an option
Unless we chase the path of fools
There can be no realistic discussion
About who is the one that rules
I dream of the coming together
Twelve tribes united as one
We then will be equal in faith
No battles to lose or be won
Stanski
September 26, 2019 ^
CAN IT
.
It cannot be true
Maybe a state of mind
Cruelty we see and
Will never understand
A bully on the playground
Picks fights he can win
Twists the truth of things
Just to cover his sin
A fireman, black in color
Saves the life a small white girl
Gets no credit as a hero
Walks away feeling like a zero
He has the right to dream
Wonders if life is like it seems
Tomorrow he works again
For this he gives his thanks
I find situations hard to comprehend
My mind looks for beauty
I tend to search for justice
It is my sacred duty
I throw my arms up in the air
Life could be so nice
What is wrong I wonder?
Why are we throwing the dice?
Stanski
September 26, 2019 ^
I KEEP ON DREAMING
.
I keep on dreaming
Having reached for a star
And been disappointed with my empty hand
I try the river flowing
Come up with a mouthful of sand
When I wanted something grand
Our country had standards
I see them disappear
I look for those who stand for something
Smugness is not a substitute
There are those in desperate need
Ignored by many because of greed
I listen to a widow with deep faith
Her children are suffering malnutrition
She walks two miles each way for water
To make soup with weeds and is thankful
I keep on dreaming; what can I do?
What is in front of me is my call
Betrayed by those in whom I trust
I seek deep faith; will not let it rust
I want the Prince to bring us peace
Arouse our interests in other’s needs
Victims of dictators seeking control
Dictators who commit corruptible deeds
I dream that truth can be accepted
Watch it trashed if it is contrary to
The shaky ground of the opposition
I keep dreaming of solutions; how about you
Stanski
September 25, 2019 ^
THE STARS OF NIGHT
.
We see them by the millions
On a bright, clear night
Such an amazing array of stars
So many, with many needs
See them and wonder
Could I reach up
Gather in just one
And cause no thunder
Or shift of the poles?
No one really knows
It is all a dream
But there are some
Who rely on them it seems
They haven’t found their stride, but
Do not seek a place to hide
They will find the door
The opens to sunny streets
Will then pursue their dreams
No need for a star from afar
Or a lightning bug in a jar
Truth has been the instrument
The same bright sky is the limit
They dreamed and now will achieve it
Stanski
September 23, 2019 ^
NO INVITATION
.
You are good, but excluded
It is just the color of your skin
How is this conceivable
My mind cannot grasp
The indifference towards
Those not like us
How does the offended endure?
Where is the ground to understand?
One must resort to nature
Distract themselves from reality
Move to bearable dreaming
Lose themselves in sounds and music
We are a peculiar lot
All fife is a precious gift
A miracle without peer
This is not good enough
Some must rule; others serve
Dictators oppress their own people
Color here is not an issue
It is totally power and control
Slaves were brought to our country
Some brutalized while others became family
They were emancipated; given freedom
Not all were prepared; some revolted
Most were resented by former owners
Became victims of the KKK
Dreamers became judges, teachers, inventors,
Factory workers, soldiers and public servants
They are a good part of our collective blood
When they can’t sleep, their dreams have seams
Dreaming of ancient rivers with hopes
That the waters will remain deep in their veins
Stanski
September 23, 2019 ^