Steve Haarman

I sit alone 
It is five in the afternoon
I just woke up from a three hour nap
My physical condition seems to be slipping
It may be a temporary situation
That is my hope because
I do not wish to give up being active
I am okay being alone, but
Desire to be around other active people
 
I look out the window
There is solitude there also
No creature, in my eyesight, stirring about
The wind is blowing, strongly but not fiercely
Mr. Sun is casting long shadows
I feel the radiant chill from the walls
I like writing about experience
Interaction with other people’s ideas
The source of their beliefs
 
I have always thought that
Action speaks louder than words
It is so easy to criticize when
You are not in the arena engaging
The non-doers speak the loudest
Pile on regardless of the source
I think their curiosity is dormant
They are satisfied with others thoughts
Which are coincidental with their own
 
There is no tendency to explore
Discover on their own what is happening
Or what has happened if anything at all
I like involvement with reality
Know what makes people tick
Find the source of their strength
Among these I usually hear the word respect
I attempt to employ it in all my encounters
Never have to worry about second thoughts
 
Stanski
February 26, 2020 ^
 
 
 

 
 
Blowing winds mimic trains
Rumbling through the countryside
The roaring masks the whistle’s wails
Preceding arrival at crossroads
 
Good conductors recognize this
Making necessary adjustments
Using undetected motions
 
Engineers do not pose as conductors
They carry no baton
 Winds need no baton or conductor
 
Both continue through the night
The wind as it pleases
The other to a well known schedule
 
One will eventually go home to enjoy
His own symphony of rock-and-roll or country
After lavabo and vespers he is settled
Slides easily into his dreamland
 
We are home, we
Have no choice
Listen to this music
It cannot be ignored
 
In deference to classic
We call it traditional nature
You enjoy but not to the point of delight
There are no refunds
No tickets were purchased
 
No curtain calls for performers
This is a solitary storm
Done her way:  Tempo allegro
 
 
Stanski
February 26, 2020 ^
 
 

 
Normalcy is not what we intend to do
But what we naturally do and will
Be measured by as time goes on
 
There are many opinions
Many interpretations
Truth, however, is what we should look for
 
We are set free by expressing truth
Light shall overcome all darkness
We will float with exhilaration
 
It is in giving that we receive
In emptying ourselves that we are filled
Man rules often get in the way of righteousness
 
Stanski
February 25, 2020 ^

Those making proclamations
Want the middle of the road
Having the “Above it all” attitude
It seems the safe place to be
Even though the Good Book says
That the Lord abominates the fence dwellers
 
But there is a comfort there
In the middle
One can lean either way
And still feel safe
Misinterpreting words spoken
Twisting the truth to accommodate
 
Remembering the convenient
Forgetting anything positive
The middle of the road sounds cool
Seasons change however and
Frigid cold replaces a warm position
The fence top become uncomfortable
 
A new place is hard to get used to
The man who “Thinks” is suddenly silent
Did he really exist or was he just
A collage of misunderstood clippings
Remarks made in haste and out of context
 
Truth rises like the Phoenix
Suddenly you are alone in
The middle of the cold road
There will be no letters from home
 
Stanski
February 25, 2020 ^

Pancakes are flying as they are flipped
Traditions carry on to the delight of many
Fat Tuesday is another name
Sadness as the Pagan Mardi Gras parade -
Is the cause of death of a few participators
I like happiness and good times, but
This parade could be scraped and
I would not care; all energy is wasted
Sins committed for which the Savior died
 
The birds are flying today
Happy as the sunshine warms a little
Deer jump six feet snow banks
One, then another, just in front of us
Two are standing still, waiting their turn
Survival is in their instincts
Friends are in flight also
Some to South Carolina for a month
Some to Arizona for six weeks
 
I will stay to keep watch
It is good to do so
There are steady people who need encouragement
Disheartened over matters they cannot control
The wicked witch has left orders
Then disembarked to unknown regions
Has her control network in place
None dare step over the line
Wrath, a deadly sin, is not pretty
 
The birds are flying
Deer are jumping and surviving
People are traveling for a winter respite
Humble workers carry on
There is goodness about
There are many people who care
Things may appear to be in a scramble
But there is the One who knows peace and order
His light will overcome all darkness
 
Stanski
February 25, 2020 ^

 
 
I have read more than one poem
By a poet who has been published
I wonder what was so enticing
What was so profound in the work?
 
Not getting it is universal
Listening to some incoherent ramblings from
Those that have been proclaimed great
Leaves you wondering
 
I am going to keep writing
But should that road lead to
Obliterating reality or
Hiding in the rendition of muck
 
Then someone, whoever you might be,
Please come and take my stuff
Burn it, and then
Take me over your knee
 
Stanski
February 24, 2020^
 

Contest on
 
Winter carnival
 
Ice sculptures
 
Many, many
Man-hours
 
Battleships
Soldier forts
Farm machines
Disney World
Wild horses
Frozen wonders
 
Spectacular
 
All dwarfed
By the magnificence
Of a setting sun
 
Stanski
February 24, 2020 ^

The bright morning sun encourages
This Leap Year February is nearly over

The morning light is higher in the sky
Days begin earlier and end later

We have hope that the dread will end
Cold, snow and ice have been haunting

The lake must be weary vacillating
From calm to stormy
 
We are not foolish
The season may be coming to a close

This will be in name only
It could be until the middle of May

Until the frozen tundra yields to
The warmth of the sun and 

The gentle soothing rains
Snow will surround early daffodils
 
Finally we will have about two weeks
In no-man’s land where everything

Appears to be beautiful and at peace
Suddenly weeds and bugs appear

Grass is long and needs cutting
Lawnmowers need to be fixed

Stones raked out of the lawns
Happiness is not pervasive
 
We will not sink into despair
Windows will be washed

Cleaning taken care of
The car polished

Bushes cut back and gardens tended
Fragrances will be remembered

Birds and nature will sing to us
All is back as it should be
 
Stanski
February 24, 2020 ^

Sometimes
a church service
seems to drag
 
Long pauses
Between the readings
 
The choir slow on the pick up
 
A sermon which makes its point
in the first sentence and
then repeats
 
The hesitations
The drama
 
I know this is church
but shouldn’t order and solemnity
have a place in the service?
 
These are questions and
they will never have answers
because feelings would be hurt and
that is not what we want
 
We desire beginnings and endings
during each phase
This is not too much to ask
 
The scrubbing of hands with antiseptic
is over enthusiastic at communion time
 
Does it have any real purpose
Wouldn’t the handling of
the body and blood of Jesus
be purification enough?
 
Today, after the blessing  and
before the final hymn
the words “Go and serve the Lord”
were spoken
 
The congregation responded
“Thanks be to God”
 
Then a child doubled down the exclamation
Repeating in a loud voice
“Thanks be to God” 
 
Amen
 
Stanski
February 23, 2020 ^

Those who came had faith
Prayed to God for good earth
They were glad with worship
Approached their destination singing
They were people of God

Knew He made them and
Would witness their manifestation
These devote children
Saw in their minds
Sheep in pastures
Cattle in fields

They had hope
Knowing too
That they were sheep
And would depend on
The Good Shepherd

They entered their “land to be”
With thanksgiving
They were steadfast with love
As they began their destiny

They knew His love would endure
Even though they may lose as
The land they cherished would fail
Causing them to move on
With renewed hope

This was North Dakota
Arid soil and timber less
Hundreds of miles from nowhere
Still possibility called
The human spirit lifted
In the answering

Many perceiving the outcome
As though mystics
And with their faith
Many succeeded, prospered
Lived their lives fully
Then eventually died in peace
 
Stanski
February 23, 2020 ^