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What interests me is how you get over 9000 views since 12/17/23 for an average poem.

Christmas Day 2023 I don't celebrate Christmas. I celebrate Jesus through the successive Manifestations of the Christ Spirit. I'm working today so my Christian friends can celebrate. I'm on call. I have an admission to hospice at 2 pm. In the mean time I'm writing this poem to the quiet, thinking o...

Frank, ever had an elderly relative who was hard of hearing, misunderstood what you said.

I see this quite differently. I believe it uplifts Jesus beyond the glitz and miracle crazed rabble to the Carpenter Who no one listens to because He had no glitz, but His Word was their salvation, but they don't listen.

I didn't fart...
NO GRANDMA
HOW'S YOUR HEART?

Thanks Caleb, Bob, Frank

Watching autumn through the kitchen window, coming to grips with what I know. Letting what I don't know fall gently aside. I think about changing my plans, becoming a better person that people will remember. Forget the one great poem, the retiree painting in the garage, building the sculptures that...

I think this is a well-wrought poem. Universally relatable. I have no suggestions to make it better.

Thanks Caleb, welcome. I don't poet here as much as Bob and Frank, but I've always liked the Block. Siva posts probably more than me, too.

Nice poem. Brevity works for the poem. I don’t see that as an oxymoron. Anyway I got the impression they had both lost the fire. If you say Tom then it’s one-sided which maybe that’s what you want. Just my 2 cents.

Thanks, Bob

Discontent Body I've had enough of this dying. I mean, what's the point? Long lists of things still not done. I want a life with nothing to do. Contentment. It's all one in the same, anyway. I know the taste of a Fuji apple, a Jonathan, of a kiwi, a lilikoi, fresh-squeezed pomegranate. Ah, but in t...

Red Robe A red robe for eternity is the stranger's reward. In the raging river in the name you've called out in the night when the moon had nothing left to reveal drained of light, a face unknown to the drifter to the lover who's forgotten his own self gazing into every mirror finding nothing excep...

Thanks Frank and Bob

Tambourine Man There was a born again who thought he was called. The Holy Spirit had burned away the alcohol, drugs, and cigarettes. Now, he sang on the campus knoll in front of the science building, witnessed from the boulder with a bronze plaque commemorating the founder. Nobody paid much attenti...

Beautiful writing Frank. The second stanza reminds me of Dickens' Christmas.

I like the way the narrative wanders and reveals so much about the model and about N.

Too funny, Bob, like it all.

Thanks Bob

Thanks Bob

no wonder the rain falls on the good and the bad under a moon all can see and say whose face is it that smiles or frowns on us the good go on being good the bad go on being bad until they all meet in Rumi's field where the sun shines on the golden wheat there are no tares to be cast into the fire t...

Letting Go A young woman helps him out of the car. He tells me, Miss Coats, my music teacher. I say, he loves music, think, what kid doesn’t. She says, he's one of my best singers. He tells her, I get a little crazy, and laughs. She laughs and says, we have fun. Before she closes the car door, he t...

Like the revision, Bob. This poem evokes so many layers of thought, and so imaginative. Yes, how will we be remembered.

Yes, I have to agree with Bob. At first I thought maybe there were too many characters, but it all worked well and as Bob said, the ending is perfect.

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