Steve Haarman

Now they’re gone
What does it matter?
They had their say
You heard their chatter

Their influence like vapor
Evaporation of the power
Coolly leaving behind
Just a few with sorrow

Who were the affected?
How deep the furrow?
Myth becomes truth
Legend imitates a tower

Soon the meaning is gone
If it ever was there
The memory is lost
Who would really care?

The block of life that counts
Is not the cornerstone
But the love in every brick
And how it was shown

Affected every soul it touched
In a quiet sort of way
Not worrying about tomorrow
Living for today

How it manifested thanks
For the precious gift of being
Gave back a hundred-fold
Before the final leaving

Stanski
January 13, 2020 ^

There are those so convinced
That liberalism or socialism is
The very best thing that could
Happen in this country

They basically want
Without deep consideration
For everyone to live in
A state of equal misery nation

Where do they come from?
These ideas that seem so grand
Is it the breakdown in morality?
Or the need to lead a band

They slap down our President
Because of words he has said
Name one predecessor who
Has had a perfect resume, so sad

He loves this country and
Did not have to serve, and wealth
did not stand in his way. He stood up
And proclaimed we could be more stealth

He was one of twenty, but survived
Ran against corruption and
The American people took his side
Much to the dismay of the chosen

Impeachment was the goal, before
He took his oath. He had an agenda
And proceeded to accomplish more
Than anyone thought he could

He had insiders against him, people
From both sides of the aisle
The fake news press could not acknowledge
Anything he did that was good

Soldiers are happier, our forces stronger
Taxes lowered, regulations reversed
A wonder among the men of his day
And still he is daily cursed

Stanski
January 12, 2020 ^

Look, I’ve got to get
Some serious writing done
About what, I have no clue
But I know I can find
a lesson to teach
And it might be learned by a few

A few who care and are willing to act
To prod along and advance
the pack on the trail
But back to that, as I prod along;
wondering what will be the tale,
the lesson could be and should be of course
About something that lifts the frail

Now who would be meant, I might be asked
When I refer to those who are frail?
Not the weak or susceptible;
the homeless or ill
That is for another story, but
the ones I mean, when I call them frail
Are the ones who need a helping hand;
someone in the boat to row
Someone to pay the bail;
get them through a little rough time
As they keep trying to grow

So those who are looked for are
those who are in need and
those who are not up to the task.
You take them under your wing
And push them gently
with some mentoring, and
just to be brass you ask them
to come up with some cash
or the equivalent, which
might be providing a service.

Would that be good;
could that be true?
Well there are those who do it,
how about you?
What’s your gift and
where do you fall?
Share your talent or nothing at all?

The nothing leaves you vacant
and feeling absurd
But the giving fills you now;
is that not weird?
You empty yourself and
then get filled up
Now that’s the lesson
I was looking at
And give thanks and smile
as I begin to know

Stanski
January 11, 2020 ^

At what speed can you move
Many factors come into play
Which way is the wind blowing?
How many traffic lights can there be?
Is my rudder deep enough to keep me from swaying?
Should all my energy be taken up in worry?
Does criticism slow me down?
Or do I let it anger me to the point of listlessness?
No, because my resolve lies in bigger things

What does the word struggle mean?
Do we all not confront it on a daily basis?
Is everything we do supposed to be easy?
I have never seen it that way
There are always obstacles
Something getting in our way
Uphill seems to be the only route
When our goals are admirable
Often roads are not smooth

Depression could be a factor
But I try to cast it aside
I try not to be at the mercy of anyone
Keep my balance; it is a very rough ride
I think of where I am going
How many have gone before
Follow the methods of the successful ones
Or forge my own in the left over fire
I will get there and speed does not matter

Stanski
January 11, 2020 ^

There exists villains
This we all know
Some are defended
They fill someone’s purpose
Mostly they are despised
They are scoundrels and ruthless
Do other people’s evil deeds
Or emerge on their own to lead

When taken out there is uproar
As though a friend was lost
Often there is rejoicing
Praise is not for the vanquished
When held in esteem
Whether real or put on
There will be a time of mourning
Those who deliberately disposed
Are looked upon as an enemy

Truth is dog-eared
Some see it as a gifted marker
Others as the spoiler of something whole
Regardless of the take
Truth can be only one thing
The affect it has will vary
The way it is twisted is not surprising
Discussions will go on endlessly
And what does it really matter
It cannot be changed

The loud will talk down the meek
Elders will raise both arms
Quiet and listen to wisdom
That person was not our friend
What happened came about with purpose
Put an end to a nasty parasite, who
Killed as a way of eliminating
Paralyzing those who survived
He is gone now, the hero-villain
The vicious rock-star, Soleimani

Stanski
January 11, 2020 ^

I will ponder
over many things
some are trivial
others not important
I must like
to hear myself talk
Walk around searching
stalk, stalk, stalk

I like to weed
the flower bed
and need to, too,
just to stay sane
but now is
not the season

I like to read
read good books
and for this
I have a reason
these other jobs
important; mundane

Water these plants;
Mop up the floors
Do you think it’s time?
The bigger thoughts,
the big ideas,
They may have to wait

Right now is the moment
for thinking it through;
It’s the time to
write down a plan.
I’m going to work on this
for quite a while

I hope I can find out
who I really am
I hope I can!
I hope I can!
Right now I feel like
an air borne bird
Not knowing where to land

I’m not looking
for an easy path,
But for the road to home
I’ll be alright
when I get there
And will no longer
have to roam

The feeling is there
I have it now:
The music, the sun
and the moon
And the sweet fragrance
of nature’s ecstasy

Stanski
January 10, 2020

A most sacred right is to show mercy
The esteemed in high places are begged
for mercy to be granted if in their power
This is in the history of mankind

I try to be like these esteemed
but do not think of myself as such
I encourage everyone to be merciful;
to be tolerant; not to judge

I forgive readily and frequently
just as I wish to be forgiven
When others protest and are indignant
I try to advise and persuade

None of this is easy, nor is it
handled in a uniform way
We are entitled; some will ignore
Others walk away; curses are called out
and evil thoughts grow disproportionately

Still mercy is honor and honorable it is
to show mercy and forgive
We evolve, but characteristics
stay the same and move along with us

The attributes should become
stronger as we grow wiser
Everyone will not understand;
not now or ever

Thus we are challenged to be bold in
preserving these sacred rights

Stanski
January 10, 2020 ^

The midnight waves are pounding
I listen to their sounds
What are they singing to me?
They repeat; they repeat
Be at peace; be at peace
Your soul is gold
You have been forgiven
Keep on living; living graciously
Be of substance as you carry on
Do not be afraid; the world is as it is
There is nothing in your hands you can do
Your will if free, but you will be guided
Do not hesitate when you hear the call

The waves continue to orchestrate
They need no accompaniment
Their message is clear
I feel lighter and free, but
Know that wave speak is sentimental
It offers an easiness hard to resist
Will I take it easy? No!
My nature is to endeavor
But I will heed
Save my energy for when I hear that call
Say no more to me you delightful messenger
Make your call for the wind to clear the sky
Let the moon give light to my mystical path

Stanski
January 10, 2020 ^

“We hope you like”
The farmer’s crow
We spent our summer
Making this grow

Started early
In an absolute flurry
With the risk of
A late spring snow

It’s all about
What’s good for you
Good for us, too,
Should you decide to buy

Keeps us from heartache
Dumping makes us blue
The people buy
They always do

Being selective
Is an attitude
Purchase this here
And that over there

It’s happy shopping
And does you good
You’re feeling fine
Buying farm fresh food

Now in the winter
The squash and potato
Remind us of effort
Keeping us grateful

Stanski
January 9, 2020 ^

I’m listening to an Ethiopian Christmas song
Very musical, respectfully accompanied
With various instruments adding special beat
The vocal in not understood word wise
But the meaning can be sensed
I love the new and unknown
It satisfies my quest for adventure
It is so settling to my soul
I try to find new meaning
It takes me away from commercialism
Puts me in the arena of spiritualism
Uplifting and inspiring
I think of the Ark of the Covenant
Some claim it is in Ethiopia
Does it really matter, I wonder
It amazes me how strong
The power of love can be
The imagination takes me
To places I have never been to
I am among cultures that
Possess the same love I know
The feelings of expression are different
There is no question, however, that love exists
I find myself trembling and brought to tears
To not know, but to try understanding
Is a powerful journey
I feel I have fellow travelers
And the reality of it all is that it doesn’t matter
It is the taking of the journey that counts
When moved so dynamically it must be understood
That you will never be the same as you once were
The magnificence of the spirit, the Holy Spirit
Beyond our comprehension and never to be questioned

Stanski
January 9, 2020 ^