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This Poet's Corner

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This Poet's Corner

Whispers Faith should comfort and Sooth your passage No matter the Direction and length of it. Whether or not There is a God is irrelevant. Whether or not you need one is not. I need one. Practice your faith in whispers Just loud enough to bounce Off the canyon walls Echoing deep into the valley. Even though I walk through The valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, For You are with me. E. D. Ridgell, 2019 _______________________________________ I Won’t Grow Up! The muse on Tinker bell wings Thrash’s about In search of eternal youth. The living All have something To say Needing saying Before the end. With inevitable Revisions, Her hands are as Deliberate and chiseled As I could ever hope or wish. Each work stands denuded Of all pretense, An honest bundle To dissemble Each to his own. E. D. Ridgell 2019 ******************************************************* H L Menchen is planted in Louden Cemetery And memories of a monkey trial Are whispers in the winds- The whirling wit of Henry Louis. Alexa can give dates. Particulars can be gleaned From a small room on the third floor of Baltimore Enoch Pratt Free Library. Scrapbook on scrapbook of Carefully constructed and choreographed Clips and snippets come together In a history of literary leaves. Opposite on Cathedral is the Baltimore Basilica Not to be confused with Mary Our Queen At Charles Street and Amberly Way Bordering Roland Park. It all bespeaks a city of literary lore where On Holland Street the sage of Baltimore Unraveled the complexities of English And how it should or shouldn’t be spoken. E. D. Ridgell, 2019 ********************************************************************** In That Image You Deemed Best Most of the continent is fucked up. In Uganda they’d like to kill me, In the name of Jesus, of course. It wasn’t like this until the Coming of American church groups Preaching their truths, their Interpretations of the Bible, The absolute truth as they deem it. Lord I am not worthy that I should come under thy roof, But I haven’t any doubt that You will soon enfold me. Jesu, You don’t make mistakes, and God, You surely made me In that image You deemed best. E. D. Ridgell, 2019 ******************************************************** The Wall Was Built At least that’s what They called it- A patchwork of concrete, Steel, wicked wire, Fancy fencing, and so on. The hundred thousand Beds eventually were sorted. Nobody dared call it a prison Except those that were in it. The wall was built Boosted with detectors, Alarms, bells and whistles. The agents were tripled, Armed, tasered up, and Issued smart uniforms. The dogs were joined by Robotic devices that were Said to be cost effective. The wall was built And it worked at first. Everybody on the other side Dealt with developing difficulties. The recession eventually ended. Opposing sides declared victory. Administrations changed, finally. They always do along with the Aging politicians. The wall was built. Mexico thrived as did many Central American states On the other side, and Everybody knew which Side was which. Walls- Well, walls are like that. Your damned if you do And your damned if you don’t. E. D. Ridgell, 2019 __________________________________________________ And Only Them! Don’t expect the resident narcissist To concede anything Or ever, ever, apologize. They don’t do that. Reconnoiter, Blame, Shapeshift, But never, never accommodate. “To compromise Is not to get what you want” Said the emperor narcissist On the cusp of demise. It’s all about them And how you can Boost them up- It’s about them and only them! E. D. Ridgell, 2019 ___________________________________________ The Emperor’s Wall The Emperor has clothes Which he augments with a long red tie. He wears a crown Dubiously light in the wind. The Emperor’s princelings Are good shots Though they hide their trophies- One hides his wits as well. Her Majesty is beautiful But not regal and She guards his youngest Dutifully. The Emperor’s foreign relations Are a mystery in an enigma. The kingdom thou prosperous for some Teeters for others. His Majesty sees barbarians At the border Though his soldiers armed to the teeth Sorely outnumber these. The Emperor decrees “We shall have a great wall”, But most citizens disagree and Slaves, well there outside the wall. E. D. Ridgell 2019 Written in the reign of Donald Daffy Thump 1 _______________________________________________________________ Thunder And Lightning The eagle flew into the millennium As if to soar higher and higher Not fearing the crescent moon Let alone the magic of the bear’s paw.. The bull raged even as the winters grew tame. The lakes bulged as the ice inched closer Even as the shamans warned. Not all the eaglets heeded. In the moonlight above the forests. The tribes dissected golden calves. And the gutted entrails were read. The auguries could not agree. The winds changed West to East As it had been foretold In prior decades and The Eagles could or would not. The symbol took flak Maneuvering as it could Through arrow then missile Always in thunder and lightning. E. D. Ridgell 2019 -____________________________________________________ Puppy dog syndrome Every time I come here I have to go there Thoughts on a drive A little anger A lot of grief How many years now Its misplaced His grief is real Forget and forgive I dont know where Either is planted Not that I should I cared though And still do its the Puppy dog syndrome E D Ridgell 2019 __________________________________ Piss Poor I strolled the obits today, The pics and writs of strangers- An old person’s early betrayal Of concern at growing older. Each photo had something to say, Eager eyes of the departed Burned, planted, or donated- The final lineup ‘Fore that long runway. In truth in science surely There is something that doesn’t die, Endures and does not end, DNA? I do not know. I do not know. Ancestors, reincarnation, The resurrection of the Lord. What changes not, The invention of God? “What’s it all about Alfie? Is it just for the moment we live?” I don’t want to die, Alfie. I don’t want to rot. It makes absolutely no sense For a Christian to fear death, And yet I do. Once again, Alfie, I’m just a piss poor Catholic! E. D. Ridgell 2019 ________________________________________________________ Nothing Hurts I’m hit! Nothing hurts. That’s bad! Oh God Help me! Yes, here. Thank you. I can’t No sir Nothing hurts. Please, no! Oh God, That hurt! Not there. Nothing hurts. I’m going. Yes, Sir. A little. Nothing hurts! Oh God! E.D. Ridgell _________________________________________ White Anger Blinding, Bordering on rage, Co-dependent co-habitation, True love aches For the father, the hero, and the lover. In the tomb Of the unknown Lies a statistical possibility. Stir in Jesus and You have a probability. I snuggle up Of a night To the decorated veteran, The father, the hero, and the lover. It is a story as long and as ancient as that love That dare not speak its name. E. D. Ridgell 2019 ____________________________________________________________ Did You Remember To Put The Kettle On? Stop… The inevitable running on of time. Stop, if but for one moment, and look around. Do you see it? The moonstruck baboon’s ass in the fireside light- This opportunity will not come again. Did you remember to put the kettle on? Don’t let each precious moment escape your grasp. You are so fleeting as to not matter to the ever expanding universe. Is there a Jesus for each of a billion stars? There would have to be you know To justify your faith, a Jesus hopscotching through the uncountable stars, But why not. It is God is it not? Have faith. It’s the only way out. I’ve thought it out. I don’t want to die. There, I’ve said it have I not? That eternal question of what’s to become of me- Into the unfathomable emptiness of everything. Why are you afraid Of the void; so insecure you would solicit God. He needn’t be you know? Have faith. It’s the only way out. I’ve thought it all out and for this second I am safe. Stop… The inevitable running on of time. Stop, if but for one moment, and look around. Do you see it? The moonstruck baboon’s ass in the fireside light- This opportunity will not come again. Did you remember to put the kettle on? E. D. Ridgell 2019 ______________________________________________________________ Shoes I listed the last pair for sale Grateful they were all up. I saw the irony from the first And realized that it was another Walk through the grief. Each pair evoked memories And each helped to piece together, The riddle that had been in step With your own whimbly whombly life With secrets it’s own carried far too long. I felt empathy for an overwhelming Need to feel that security that life Won’t buckle up for any of us! I did not take that last call, And the taped message choked to rest. I did not pick up the telephone As a last act on my part for your part; To assure that the water bore no ripples As you crossed o’er it one last time. E. D. Ridgell 2019 _____________________________________________ The Mad Hatter! I feel it unwind, The tick tick of the clock Forever sifting around and around And down! Time will stand still- No cease- Fall into a black hole, A hole marked nevermore That wasn’t there… Oh yes it was and is! You evade it, The inevitability of it- A drama queen Up against the wall. It is forlorn and cowardly. You don’t want to die, And you shun the pain of it, So just stumble into it- Anything to be rid of it. Hurry, hurry, Don’t tarry. You’re a mad hatter With an important date and “You’re entirely bonkers. But I’ll tell You a secret, all the best people are” So don’t be late. You’re The mad hatter! “All the best people are…” E. D. Ridgell		Tweetie Bird We stand defined By 280 characters No more, no less! It’s a Twitter world- Brief and unchecked. We think of a tweet As the color yellow. It could black. It could Be blue. It might be both. It could be black and blue! E. D. Ridgell 2019 ________________________________________ Marlboro Country Sauntering an idle jaunt With no particular endpoint He’d walk the country roads The whole day long. Everyone knew him. Everyone pitied him, Born with palsy, He walked and walked and walked With the loveliest disposition In the county. I don’t recall his name but He is one of those childhood memories I catalogue now in my final time. Standing up in the studebaker Absent any seatbelt, I gazed out On a road that hosted a land Unblemished to me. All the pine woods, and Rich green fields of tobacco were Reassuring from the window of that chariot. I was a right little dynast in my perfect kingdom. E. D. Ridgell 2019 ________________________________________________________________ A Wee Penned Prayer! Jesu, banish my demons And grant me rest. Take away all fear of death. Banish all sorrow. Thy will Be Done. I am in control of nothing And the better for it. Ease my wrinkled brow. Old age is heavy. No news is good news. All news momentary and Subject to revision. E. D. Ridgell 2019 ____________________________________________ Waiting On The Washing Gale! All up and down the line The sogginess intrudes. There is no more time ‘Fore islands out of time See the seas close o’er them- No markers for their graves. Sealed coffins float, Pitiful testaments, Bobbing buoys for the gulls, Free wings on winds O’er a blue bay sky Waiting on the washing gale! E. D. Ridgell 2019 _________________________________________________ In That Long Line The big C again, Dee’s mother. It was her turn In that long line. I’m somewhere Farther down In that long line Waiting tepidly. “What’ for ya Won’t miss ya” A Polish proverb As true as any. I opposed the draft And still do. As for this lottery You can burn my card! E. D. Ridgell 2019 ____________________________________ Forked Tongues! Bigots line their victims like ducks in a row. When they start shooting, it’s with words, One word at a time, one word after another, Tumbling into sentences and phrases, Until the hitting starts, the poking, the jabbing- Then out come the knives, the sharp blades For dicing and slicing the chosen up. I was chosen. They set me up. They poked and Jabbed me with their foul-mouthed, rounded words, Come down sometimes for centuries, To dice me, and slice me up. They tried to toss us. Some cut, fell, but not all, not this time! We stood like a knife, slashed stonewall. Stonewalls scratch but they do not bleed! We feel nothing, now, the elders. Nothing! We feel no guilt, nothing! We stand stoic and solid as an old stonewall. They’re standing the young ones up, again, row after row, But some of us are here with words of warning, graffiti To beware! Take care! They speak with forked tongues! c. E.D. Ridgell, 2014 Revised 2019 __________________________________________________________________________ Taxing Matters! “Are the taxes done?” These were the last words Of my grandfather. He and my grandmother died Just ten days apart o’er sixty years ago, now. Six decades later, I muse as I render unto Caesar. Grammy suffered horribly. He kept up the family tradition And died suddenly of a stroke. The kitchen mammies were busy Stuffing smoked ham with kale, A Maryland tradition for funerals. We were filling up holes back of St. Mathew’s Fast as they could dig them close by the unmarked graves, Lost babies to Grammy’s salad years. I muse to just how many more tax forms I’ll file- Tedious American rituals, these Taxing matters! E. D. Ridgell Revised 2019 _________________________________________________ Mendez, Nights in the gardens of Spain And I was falling in love with you- The thrust of the matador With the perfect ass. You drifted away. I was unsure. One call, but You did not persevere. Perhaps it was best Sexy Spaniard. At least we had Madrid- The Alcazar, Toledo. The deep red wine- Love in front of the mirror. The blood raged On to Paris. You drifted away, yet still Whenever they Send in the clowns I think of you. E. D. Ridgell 2019 __________________________________________ Last Rites Stormy Bay Blowing hard Drowning down Risky takers Little warning Hard swallows Shaky wheel Rogue wave Buoy bobbing Warning bell Tipping over Death knell Body bloat Shallow grave High tide Peace eternal E. D. Ridgell 2019 ____________________________________ Spare the Sword and Spoil the... Silence too often screams, And the picture is worth A thousand words. The ancients communicated On coinage struck on either side With a likeness of the Emperor and On the reverse his Latin name To tell the folk who was in and was out. The Emperor Elagabalus was documented An early transvestite who when Wishing to be castrated was cut down And his body dumped into the Tiber. The Emperor Caligula was trapped By his own Pretorian Guard Who never sparred the sword! E.D. Ridgell, 2017 Revised 2019 ___________________________________________________________ Joseph Campbell Musings! Four thousand miles For o’er forty thousand years ‘Fore spewing into the Mediterranean- O’er there were the Minoans, A theatre of Nestor’s Pylos On its journey to Troy! Did Homer lie Or was he deceived By Mycenae? A German dug himself Into a hole and a Brit spent his Fortune on an amusement park- Such is the allure of Myth and mythology- It is a Trojan mystery! E.D. Ridgell _____________________________________________________ Nearsighted Every now and then I gaze from out this orb And try to fathom any of it. It’s complicated by Decade upon decade Tumbling over one another I do a lot of remembering Recollecting happenings Directions to and fro Social media adds A twist to the knife and News often fake heightens pain I am seldom bored Often frightened wishing I could hit pause I never can though And the sand sifts through While I stare nearsighted E. D. Ridgell 2019 _____________________________________________ I Haven’t Time To Die Burned out On that slippery slope that is The lot of successful people. There is no cure, no release ‘cept a host of possibilities- The price too high for the cure, Or the certainty of death. Oscar said it: “Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.” * I haven’t time to die. Tell the reaper to Leave his card and call another day. Tell my creditors I’ve run away or better yet I’ve accepted a post in the government. I learned ages ago the value of a lie. As I recall I learned it in therapy. Presently, I haven’t the time or the money to die. E. D. Ridgell *Sir Oscar Wilde _____________________________________________________ No One I Mean No One I’ve had enough of grieving. I seem to have stock in it. Enough! To grieve a lot I suppose Could mean you’ve lived a lot. The truth is you get tired, Awfully tired. Life is fundamentally sad. You’re not supposed to say so But I often do what I’m not supposed to do. To come very far and make a success of it Requires you to finesse luck. This takes More than just a little pluck. No one, I mean no one makes it Entirely on their own. It is foolish to think so- Churlish, is that a word. Wait, let me look it up. Churlish means rude and mean spirited. Suppose we just say unwise. It is unwise To think too highly of yourself; vain. Narcissist with wings, Ariel. Ariel would fancy She did it on her on. It goes without saying Narcissist needs no helping hand. Narcissist and Ariel, now there’s a winning team. The two of them might master anything- Rise so high they’d live in a big, White House. E, D. Ridgell 2019 _________________________________ Names Places Obits I used to say to Russell, “I won’t live to be thirty.” Now, look at the mess I’m in. I’m damned if I do. I’m damned if I don’t. I don’t know if Russell is alive or dead, And I’m good at that sort of thing. He’d be around seventy now. It’s just something old people do Google names, places, obits. I am not depressed, More curious than not. A reporter quipped Thurgood Marshal “Why retire now?” Because I’m old” he answered. “I’m an old man!” I told Vera not to move me To a room without an art sink. She ignored me. I made calls And retired on the dot. I enjoyed that. Through the looking glass I heard the kids threw the art Kiln out of the third floor window; A tight squeeze but possible. Pity Vera wasn’t under it! E. D. Ridgell 2019 The Iran Nuclear Deal So I just googled coding and All manner of things coding Came my way uninvited. Is this a loss of privacy- Handheld spies? Google Iran and Get enlightened. But I hail from roots to Islands out of time With languages in opposites- Quotes are half assed backwards To be continued, Unless they start a war And fry me and you Just as Melania catches a wave. Red, white, and blue Streaking o’er the sky- Only they’re playing The Marseillaise. Whose going to swallow a Con job liar, not I Nor any of mine. I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy- Stormy Daniels will spiel. Iran will wink an eye. It is in the eye of the needle That you find a hole. E D Ridgell