Poetry


11 May 2011 08:50 pm

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Our lovely and oh, so cultured First Lady, Michelle Obama held a poetry event at the White House tonight. She invited the Rapper, “Common” to the event. N.J. Cops are outraged.

As well they should have been. The Rapper, Common grew up in the same church Michelle and Barack attended back in Chicago and those Jeremiah Wright chickens were roosting in the White House tonight.

Ten Detroit area students were invited to the event as well as the actor/poet, Steve Martin, and other contemporary poets.

No Cowboy Poets were in attendance. Neither were the poets Robert Frost, Carl Sandburg and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

Not even in spirit.

Although the White House claimed that Common was sidelined from the afternoon events, according to Facebook responses of those who watched the White House stream tonight, he was there and performed at the event.

President Obama welcomed the crowd to the White House with arguably the most poetic words he has ever uttered, “Hello, everybody. Please have a seat. Welcome to the White House. I am going to be brief, because on a night like tonight, my job is to get out of the way and let the professionals do their job.”

15 Feb 2009 05:49 pm

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Yesterday’s celebration of Valentines Day was sweet and savory for the females in our family. It was a sweet day to throw a shower for my daughter-in-law who is expecting our first granddaughter in early March. They say that it’s proper to give showers for first time mothers only but this second time mother is expecting her first daughter this time. Little girls can’t wear their big brothers’ hand-me-downs. (even in these supposedly gloomy times)

My sister, Lucy, daughter, Kate and I love to talk about all-things-party: color, theme, feeling, design, menu, and budget, so as we mulled over our plans for the shower I looked into some of my albums to find my collection of antique Valentines. These Valentines tend to be less pink and more red, violet and vibrant in their presentations. None of my children or grandchildren or my childrens’ spouses are pastels in any sense of the word, all are rich and vivid, colors as individuals. Lucy, Kate and I all agreed there would be little pink in this Valentine Baby Shower.

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The Valentine Baby Shower would have as it’s basic theme, antique Valentines.

The most romantic of all poems makes little use of the word, pink. I would never suggest that the color be banned, perhaps just lessened. We used just a little of the pink in some of the napkins and fluffy paper to soften the edges. I had fun going shopping at The Now and Then Shoppe where I found the beautiful red and white vase and at Target where I found the heart trees. I would say that I’ve done my share in helping to boost the economy in our local area.

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My sister, my oldest daughter and I took on the happy task of putting the party together. Lucy helped Kate arrange the flowers and the two together went out early in the morning to find the best and tastiest selections for the table. The cake was an Italian Creme purchased from Sacred Grounds, a fun little coffee shop-Italian deli located in downtown Fort Smith. The punch was made of cranberry juice and ginger ale. We had creme puffs, fresh strawberries with chocolate dipping sauce, almond flavored heart shaped cookies and for the savory: two kinds of crostinis: artichoke and chicken fajita, mozzarella puffs with Marinara sauce, and little parmesan cheese straws.

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The light’s fantastic, as Sissy Willis would say.

We sat together later, after the guests had departed and watched the baby having hiccups in Joni’s tummy. We examined the pretty little baby girl outfits that were given as gifts and we watched as the light of the day grew gradually more dim, and we savored the memories the day had given.

The days before a new female Donoho emerges into the world are full of anticipation, for her world will be a very different place than the one her grandmother entered fifty some years ago and even the one her own mother was born into twenty some years ago. This baby girl’s world will be starkly different but our hopes for her are not unlike those our own ancestors cherished for us. I hope our little granddaughter will have dark black hair and a milk white complexion like her mother and will be an honest and trustworthy individual like her father.

I hope she will grow up in a country that still values freedom and love of family and God. I hope she will come to know her Creator at an early age and she will make Him her best friend and guide.

Most of all, I hope she will be born healthy and that the birth will be a safe event for both mother and baby. That we are already celebrating before her birth should in someway tell her how we are anticipating her arrival and how welcome she will be in our lives and in our family.

03 Jun 2007 12:37 am

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My husband grew up reading books like the one above, The Boy’s Book of Battle Lyrics by Thomas Dunn English. It was published in 1885 and I found it recently in our bookshelves.

It’s described as A collection of verses illustrating some notable events in the history of the United States of America, from the Colonial Period to the outbreak of the Sectional War.

It’s not The Dangerous Book for Boys and will not be found in a school library today, (more’s the pity) but it demonstrates that at one time, manliness, courage, patriotism, historical knowledge and poetry were considered important essentials for bringing up successful young men.

It’s doubtful The Hornblower Series would be found in school libraries either but that wonderful series of stories about Horatio Hornblower by C.S. Forester is among my husband’s favorite books of his youth. The stories appealed to the swashbuckler in his soul.

I am purchasing The Dangerous Book for Boys for my nephews because it’s the kind of book that will appeal to them. They are the kind of boys, who, when they decided they wanted a basketball goal, built one for themselves. They love action and challenges and never find anything like that at school.

Many boys in public schools today are either ignored by their teachers or sent to the principals’ office when they get antsy in class. Girls are the preferred class because they very rarely stick paperclips into erasers, make paper airplanes out of their homework or do any of the things that used to be considered normal behavior for boys but is now used as evidence of their “hyper-activity.”

27 Jan 2007 01:11 pm

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Paratroopers from C Company, 1st Battalion, 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 82nd Airborne Division, sharpen their skills in Kuwait in preparation for possible deployment to Iraq. Defense Department official photo.

My husband, being a poetic soul at heart, has a real problem with those in the Congress who have taken an oath to support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; and yet are turning in to the very enemies they swore to defend against. He’s expressed his opinion in the following poetic words.

Freedom’s Stand

What cost does freedom really bring, when life is high and full of spring.

What courage is to count the cost, when neither time nor youth is lost?

It lies within a time gone by when those who stood knew some would die.

What cost does freedom really bring, it lies upon those souls who sing.

What song is that which sears the soul? That keeps the flame of freedom whole?

The song comes from the ones who stand and keep us all in God’s own hand.

For those who stand will count the cost but some will not and they are lost.

For those who do not stand today will not live on, will fade away.

To stand is not to be before, it does not mean to block the door.

To stand is simply to be there, to find the strength of those who care.

To do what others will not do, to help us all to see things through.

Defend that which we cannot see, find the strength to keep us free.

The strength we need is near at hand, it comes from those who made the stand.

But some cannot abide the light that comes to those who share this sight.

They will not see the need so dear, for some are blinded by their fear.

Some will only live in greed and only think of what they need.

Some will only join the fight for the power of the night.

And when the land is torn apart, these will fade into the dark.

For if we do not make this stand, we lose the power of this land.

We lose it for eternity, the gift of light that makes us free.

The strength that feeds this fabled light lies consistent in God’s sight.

It does not peak, it does not fall, it simply stands to strengthen all.

But it requires comforts denied, the pain of choice, not those who hide.

A strength of hope that does not die, but lives to fill the land and sky.

What cost does freedom really bring, it lies not in the breath of spring,

It rests instead in each one’s stand, to strengthen hope, defend our land.

It grows when those stand free and clear to help us in this time of fear.

To drown the hate that comes our way to stand despite what others say.

Be careful those who guard this light, for it can vanish in the night.

It will be lost when those who care forget the darkness always there.

And give to those who have their say, a simple lie, the easy way.

A simple choice to turn from light, abandon those so far from sight.

Now hear me all who stood before, we need you now, do not ignore

Remember those who through our past stood straight and tall and to the last.

Stand with us now, despite the cost, we cannot see our freedom lost

Despite the time and evil’s force, find the strength to stay the course.

For freedom’s fight is never done, it will not end with setting sun.

The price we give is never clear, but know that cost is always dear.

The song we sing to save the light comes from within to banish night.

Who brings this music to our land? Only those who make the stand!

COL (ret) Robert R. Donoho

*****

We’ve taken the pledge and will never give another dime to the NRSC if they continue to support Republicans who have turned against our troops and our President for their own selfish political reasons.