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Archive for August, 2012

 

Courtesy of the special collection of the University of Washington

 
 
It had been many years since he felt that way.
It was a rerun in his memory of the past.
There was fifty years between them.
She was outright flirting with him.
 
He was uncomfortable with it.
He was sitting right there with his Bride.
She acted like his bride was not even in the room.
 
Maybe it was how she got right into his face.
She looked at him like he was something really special.
She touched his knee under the table
as she kneeled before them on the side of the table
to take their dinner order.
 
Just when he accepted that his youth was long gone
she had to come along and remind him
what it felt like to be desired.
She was unfair in doing what she did.
 
Leaving behind the passions of youth
is not an easy thing for a man to do.
The move from passion to wisdom
is painful for any man.  
 
Perhaps ladies there is a lesson here.
Men of Passion never die in their hearts.
The burning heat of creation is part of their DNA.
Never treat your man like he is no longer alive.
 
Within every silver-headed man
still lies the young boy
remembering
wanting
desiring.
 
Laugh not at Passion.
It is as old as the centuries.
Forever faithful.
Forever remembering.
What it was like
to have been loved. 
 
Commentary on Poem:  Shortly after I posted this poem and shared it with one of my friends, their comment was, “John, some folks would just about do anything for a big tip, especially a twenty year old.”  His comment was filled with great laughter.  Frankly I joined the laughter with many big “Ha-Ha’s” on my part.  There is much truth in the saying,  “There is no fool, like an old fool.” Lol 
 

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Courtesy of nurpublishers.com

By this path
the Lord has brought me to the present.
By this path
I have found His love for me.
Before I found this place in His love
I was a lost sinner in the depths of sorrow and darkness.
By this path
My Lord has brought me everlasting joy and His glory.
Bless this path.
Bless this day.
Blessed are we
who are truly in the mist of His love. 

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“An Exploding Sun” Courtesy of cbsnews.com

A Sun in our universe
exploding into billions of pieces of ash.
An existence of billions of years.
 
A daily occurrence in our Universe
is such in the millions of light years
around us.
 
Our lifetimes upon this Earth
but an average of seventy-odd years.
Dust and ash will we also become.
 
Is there a difference in these two happenings?
We can only pray there is
in an eternal soul blessed by the Father.
 
Make a difference in the Universe.
It is your gift to your Father.
Give a part of yourself this day. 
 

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As of late I have been blessed in exchanging with WordPress members who have dealt with breast cancer. Hence my desire to repost this poem. Many would find it difficult to believe but breast cancer in men in now becoming more and more common.
John J. Rigo

Texas Poetry

 
She stood naked before me in the bathroom.
Before me I can see her beauty
amidst the scars of her two battles.
 
Breast cancer
twice in a ten year period.
 
Her left breast was twisted almost inward.
The scar under her arm pit made her nipple
bend inward toward her chest wall.
 
Upon her right breast the burn was clearly seen.
It was where six weeks of radiation were done
in one week. 
 
The right side was caved inward in this area of burn.
Her nipple stood straight high and proud on this breast. 
This was the breast that the doctor suggested
that she also have chemo due to her second bout.
 
Her hair had long grown back from this terror
of a heart-wrenching attack on her entire body.
 
As she smiled at me
and kissed the top of my head.
 
I thanked my Lord
for putting this…

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Courtesy of 123rf.com

In all the things
thou are to me
I remember now
then recall latter
the twinkle of your laughter
as you followed me quietly
as I ran from you in anger
over some silly thing.
 
There you stood
as I turned
with the biggest
of your smiles.
It was your way
of saying,
“I am sorry.”
As I remembered now
you knew more than anyone
the many ways
one can say
“I Love you.”
 
Did I remember also to let
you know this in my heart
at a time when it was
important to tell you
that I also love you
oh so very deeply. 

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Courtesy of footage.shutterstock.com

A bright blue sky day.
Water with a spray of diamonds.
Rays of warmth upon my face.
 
You at my side
with that special smile
that I love above all expressions
that pass over your face each day.
 
Let us hold this close to us
in what seems not enough time for
just the two of us.
 
Cherish this day
love this day
with all we have.
 
For we will never know
how many
if any
of these days are before us.
 
We have each other
with our love for one another.
What could be worth
more than just this day?

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Courtesy of Wikipedia, Neil Armstrong, a great American Hero

Astronaut Neil Armstrong, first man to walk on moon, dies at age 82. A Salute to a Great American Hero, Neil Armstrong.  May your next adventure be your greatest one.

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Picture Courtesy of timesnewsfeed.com

 

’Look of death’: Co-workers tell of office feud that led to NYC killingsThis is truly a deeply sad incident to me.  Here we had two men, an artist and a salesman who where not willing to leave their ego’s at the door of life.  If each were willing to share themselves as individuals with the other, think of all the good they could have done for the other’s life, in the sharing of a friendship instead one of hate.

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Courtesy of fineartamerica.com

 
 
 
Dreams
dreams
I step into the world of my dreams.
Dreams of you.
 
Your lips touching mine
my arms around your waist.
I am holding you close.
 
We are breathing as one.
Kissing as one.
Is this real or is it not?
 
Let me not awake
from this place
where there is only
you and me.
 
Just
dreaming
dreaming.

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This is a re-blog from my earlier works.  The question is one that enters all our minds from time to time.  The unknown, a scary place for sure when it comes to where we might be going upon the deaths of our bodies.  Will it be just so much dust in time or truly another heavenly existence for us?

Texas Poetry

 
The sand is pushed aside
as my feet are placed upon the landscape.
My footprints quickly disappear
as I move forward in my quest.
 
Blowing winds leave the mark of my path
but for a second
a mark of passing that becomes neither
a longing memory
or a recall by the passing landscape.
 
Are we too
a grain of sand
lost to a moment of time?

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