Archive for November, 2013

Courtesy of dailymail.co.uk

(The little boy’s story in the poem is true and a time from my own past.) This Christmas Season of 2013, I was thinking of my Father. This poem mentions him several times. I remember how dirty he was when he came home from work when I was a little boy. My Father was an iron and steel worker.  After he came home and took a bath, my Mother would then attempt to clean the ring out of the bathtub from his bath.  Many times with close to a half hour of scrubbing, she still could not get it out.  In those days, my Father made about a hundred dollars a week.  He worked very hard for that money.


I remember fondly Christmas’ past
our first tree alive with lights
before it caught fire later that week.
I remember fondly the Christmas with toys.
Never before had my brother and I received toys.
How angry my Father became when we broke several
toys after a few hours of play.
It was my Father’s first Christmas bonus
as a steel worker.
He spent that bonus on toys for us that Christmas.
He thought those toys would never break.
I remember fondly a special Christmas as a kid
when no money was available whatsoever for toys.
We found a punch-out cardboard castle in a
department store window.
One dollar and ninety-eight cents was the price of that castle.
My young brother and I played with it for days.
A punch-out castle was the best toy we ever had.
I remember fondly Christmas past,
acting in the church Christmas pageant.
I was a little child with the beard of a prophet
shaking in a spotlight in the church play.
It snowed that night.
My best friend and I asked
permission to keep wearing the beards.
A most beautiful snow floated through the air
as we walked home together.
The dirty streets of the city were made
clean and white with heavy, swirling snow flakes.
We sang church carols walking home
our arms around each other’s shoulder.
How close to baby Jesus we were back then.
I remember fondly Christmas’ past
when life seemed so much simpler.
Joys more easily shared with
laughter much deeper than now.
Still I thank God that I had those Christmas’ past
even to this special day of a new Christmas.
Another December which will also will soon be gone
into the misty memory of another Christmas’ past.  

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Another great Reblog from my WordPress followers…..Funny…Funny..Enjoy.

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A Commentary by John J. Rigo in the Blessings of a full life. Copyright 2013 John J. Rigo

A Commentary by John J. Rigo in the Blessings of a full life. Copyright 2013 John J. Rigo

My wife is a meticulous housekeeper.  It is a huge challenge at present.  We are blessed in now having three homes and one commercial property to keep up while we are in the process of “down sizing,” and planning for what we hope will be our long-term retirement.

I shot this picture early this morning with my Samsung Smartphone.  It is a picture of the fireplace in our lake home in Gun Barrel City, Texas. I felt a sense of beauty with the lone web extending to the tip of the candle holder.  Even my wife got humor when I pointed it out and did not say, “Oh My God, I need to clean this place.”  We both were thankful for our full and busy life with our “projects” and I especially, with my “Honey-Do List.”  Blessings this day to my WordPress family in their celebration of this coming Thanksgiving holiday.

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In the five years I have been with the WordPress family I do not recall over four or five negative comments sent to me. The WordPress family is a constant “Feel Good” experience on the internet. WordPress is the reason I feel a daily joy in sharing my published poetry work as well as my commentary postings.
John J. Rigo
Texas‘ Poet and Commentator

The Real Janna Hill

Once upon a time a long, a long time ago (before Black Friday) Thanksgiving was a celebration of harvest and a time to give thanks. Hence the name thanksgiving.

I don’t think the early pilgrims had a Super Walmart, a Sears or a Best Buy yet somehow they managed. Can you imagine having to grow your own food and prepare it without the help of google? When did they have time? Where did they get their Stove Top stuffing and who plucked the turkeys? How did those crazy pilgrims do it?

I didn’t really know any of those pilgrims but I did see a John Wayne movie once. John knew a pilgrim when he saw one. He seemed to know a lot of pilgrims but that was a long time ago too.John Wayne

I propose we are all pilgrims, each one of us on a journey of sorts. Our own…

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"We need each other on a human level of communication." comment by John J. Rigo, Texas' Commentator

“We need each other on a human level of communication.” comment by John J. Rigo, Texas’ Commentator

My mind still does not accept they are gone from this world.
I find myself many a time reaching for a phone
to call them.
It is a select group
these souls that were a part of my life.
Some are friends
that cannot ever be replaced
in the deep meaning of their unselfish love of me.
Others were my parents
who I never really knew as people.
There was the apple of my eye,
my step-daughter of many years.
Truly the only daughter
I ever knew in my life.
There were others
that I would have liked to have known better
they are now gone
without any notice from my life.
At times I find them in my thoughts
mind speaking with them about different things
reaching and seeking unresponsive council  from now
an unfamilar place in my heart.
I know they are not really gone
they are just in a different place than me
a place that beckons me as my own death comes closer each day.
You see I never have gotten comfortable with Death.
So my dear friends
my dearest of loved ones
make a place for me.
A place where again
we can laugh and love
and talk about
all that is around us
each day of the eternity before us.

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Taken Sunrise on Black Friday, November 25th 2011 in Gun Barrel City on Cedar Creek Lake in Texas at OZ our lakehome

The following poem from my first published book, has been a favorite  poem for many years.  It has been republished several times in the Dallas Morning News, The McKinney Courier Gazette, and various major web sites.  From my family to yours, our best wishes and blessings.  

Over the last year, I am especially appreciative of all the positive feedback I have received on this WordPress web site.  Thank You All!

Blessings, a special gift from God.
Given in prayer
given when no hope
seems apparent.
Blessings bring joys
when there is darkness
laughter where there are tears.
Could these blessings be
but tears from God?
A way that our God lets us know,
that He truly is there
and yes
He does exist?
At times these gifts are given
when never expected
to let us know
truly love and concern
is there for us all. 
If you have forgotten on this day
the many special blessings rendered to you.
In this blessed thing called Life.
Get on your knees
render thanks to our God.
He will only bless you
with more of His eternal Love.

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Courtesy of umazzing.com

As of November 23rd, 2013, the “Texas‘ Poetry Site” reached another milestone of 43,000 plus hits.  My deepest thanks and appreciation to the WordPress family, and all those who share my spiritual poetry work, as well as my Texas’ Commentary posts regarding my new communities in Henderson County, Texas, Eustace, Texas, Gun Barrel City, Texas and the Nation. 

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Courtesy of kelihasablog.wordpress.com

When such pain goes beyond

metal against metal

pushing and tearing

beyond the tolerances of strength.


Truly oh what passion

lies within thee

when finding release again

in one who will truly love you again

in the truth of their spirit and heart.


Heart be still

mind be of strength

love awaits.

This time to carry you beyond

the eternal doors of joy and happiness.

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“Parked in Doctor’s Slot at Cancer Treatment Center”

She is a two-time breast cancer survivor.
This dreaded disease lingers over her life each day.
Now in her senior years
she faces the lost of dear friends each day.
Each death of a friend by cancer brings back the fear to her.
Each similar pain suffered by cancer 
when shared by those who passed on
brings the horror that this may be a return
of the dark horror.
Her anger with the medical profession increases each day.
Billions of dollars have been spent in research over the years
yet the treatments are as backward as cave times.
Parked in the Doctors Slot of the cancer treatment center
is a Rolls Silver Cloud Convertible.
Its shiny green color
speaks of the monies that were drained from her body
as the fluid of death was put into her veins.
Cannot this horror of death
be destroyed
that takes us from our loved ones?

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A Commentary by John J. Rigo Picture courtesy of google image search author unknown

A Commentary by John J. Rigo
Picture courtesy of google image search
author unknown

The following message was sent early this morning to the head of a well known national Resistance Movement in the United States.  In sharing this short e-mail with you the reader, it is my hope and prayer that the young people of this country will be able to take up the banner of freedom that so many have fought and died for over almost two centuries.  That time has passed for me, a 71 year old man with an aging body, who clings to the few last years he may have: 

“What I am grappling with this morning is knowing by entering this arena I will be giving up the lives of both my wife and I.  I fear with a sense of shame and forebearing, I lack the courage to do that.  It seems to me that evil has truly won in taking our country of freedoms from every last one of us.  I truly fear we are now lost without any hope of saving our country.”

John J. Rigo, Texas’ Poet and Commentator  

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