Life is a flash flood

17 Sep

Reflections on natural disaster and the historical flooding in Colorado –
September 2013

By Cheryl A. Broome

2013-09-15 Colorado floods of biblical proportions brad hirschfield washington post

Colorado floods of ‘biblical proportions’www.washingtonpost.com – by Brad Hirschfield

We seek to set up permanent housing
here on this temporal ground
and despite our best efforts
forces of nature sweep in and wash out
our roads,
our homes,
our lives,
suddenly destroyed, our feeble attempts at lasting accommodation
surprised and angered by senseless devastation
asking “What happened?”
as the world continues to spin, spin, spin
impermanent, temporary, ephemeral

Time after time the earth set right
nature reboots
life goes about the business of correcting
undoing our attempts to
encase ourselves
insulated by building, building, building
pylons and pillars
dug deep into to the ground
cement, brick and mortar
safely ensconced
we think
Suddenly SHOCKED and saddened
we ask, “What happened?
How could God, Allah, the Universe, Benevolence let this happen?!?”
dismayed on how very little we can control life

Awed by “mother nature” her ability to uproot and begin again
in mud, in dirt, in water, in air, in fire
new life initiated
everything starts and ends
again and again
not distraught or disheartened
the real nature of life
eyes and mind and heart opened
willing to see and believe
no more blaming life for being life
Please, please
don’t get mad at me
for pointing out the folly of our blueprints and plans
I don’t make the rules
I just observe and
take note
and as silly as it seems
as futile as it is
try to rebuild.

 

All your life you will sweat to master it, until your dying day. Then you will return to the ground from which you came. For you were made from the ground, and to the ground you will return.” Genesis 3:19 Living Bible (TLB)

He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the LORD was my support. He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me. Psalm 18:16-19 New International Version (NIV)

Flooding in Colorado September 2013

National Sibling Day 2013 and a few more poems

11 Apr

ImageWe are all part and parcel

Of the same sib

Shared kinship ancestry won

Sib rivalry there is none

My Irish twin

Cheryl A. Broome 4/11/13

* Today’s NaPoWriMo.net challenge was to write a tanka.

I was inspired to add a few more on wildly different topics.  Here they are!  Enjoy!

Image

Jesus Loves Me

Ghetto or fancy chateau

Wherever I am or go

Jesus loves me this I know

Unless I’m in purgatory

And it’s a cold day in hell

Image

Crazy Missiles

North Korea  

Blustering and mustering

Hubris and arrogance leading

Promise tragic downfall

Welcome to Disneyland

 

I Un Love You

10 Apr

Image

Once I was in love with the thought

of being your muse

After too many tears,

I am done with the misuse

I un love you!

 

At first I just didn’t see,

Was it just the dopamine?

That totally made a dope out of me

Now I am free of all preservatives and additives

I  un love you!

 

Once caught in a spiraling cycle of lust, attraction, attachment

how I ever thought you were so gallant

is beyond me

For that and so much more

I un love you!

 

Oh joy I first felt

made me want to melt in your arms.

Thank God I saw through your charade, after that first tirade

When you proved meaner than a junk yard dog.

I un love you !

 

For the nights of disdain

For the mental pain

Make me want to abstain

From love, Oh yea, I am free finally

I totally un love you!

 

Energy exude, lack of sleep and food,

up all night with exquisite delight

It’s now clear to see, it’s not you but me!

I am addicted to love – but still

I un love you!

Hey, call me…

 

Continue reading

The Gumshoe and the Trashy Girl

10 Apr

Image

Darkness cloaked the city

dense gloomy fear clung heavy on Kitty

As she tried to find her way out

of this predicament;

I didn’t know who more to pity

Her or me.

How did I ever get wrapped up in her drama?

I am a smart and savvy the kind of man any mama

Would love to marry for their daughter;

But as we hid in this dumpster

All I really wanted was to pump her

for information about her gangster boyfriend.

Now he had us both trapped

As if we were apt

To turn him in for his sins

Because there was only one who could prove

So his Kitty he intended to remove

I was just collateral damage.

Dark, smelly and cramped

in this leaden box filled with crap,

I realized that my ridiculously large handgun was still in my car,

Across the street from the bar

where I picked up this dame.

Now just let me disclaim, that it was not a Smith and Wesson .44 magnum revolver in my pocket.

Not ashamed but stupefied, I wondered

what’s her game?

Cause this was insane

hiding, hoping we could abstain

From the bloodletting game

Of hers.

Or was it her game?

Not really innocent, not wholly without blame

Emboldened I sought her mouth

As my thoughts quickly went south

Would she badmouth the thug that got her into this snug

spot with me?

Was she the kind of girl that would betray, trust laid astray

For a goon that sought to make our grave this dark, smelly tomb in the alleyway?

What a way to go!

I never imagined it so

Falling head over heels in this deathtrap set on wheels,

And now finally as love was made known this would become my gravestone.

No. No! This was not how our story would end!

Our very lives would depend

on my ability of getting Kitty out of this mess.

Love cannot blossom when under duress

With only one way out

would she trust me?

If only I could think

wading through strong attraction and stink;

My gun nowhere near

I’m a detective, it’s my career

To rescue damsels in distress

I swear, somehow I will get us out of this stinking mess

Looking up into my eyes

I knew she would comply

To anything I ask;

Lord I longed to bask

in the sweetness of her charms

It was then the alarm when off

Because she really was smokin hot

And focused I am not,

I was briefly distracted by loud sirens

That was enough to move us into action

As we scrambled out of the tin box

and ran ninety to nothing out of harms way

Guns banging

Fire blazing

Blood crazing

There’s nothing boring about my new girl Kitty

How I lucky I am to behold her great beauty;

I am just a gumshoe bewitched by a snitch.

The end.

Cheryl A. Broome

4/9/13

 

It’s Not Political

8 Apr

Image

Patriotism, nepotism, optimism, terrorism fairly burst out of desire;

Living in times of consolidation, unemployment, liquidation – destructive tsunami all;

Could this extreme catastrophic wave train thus predestined plan God hire?

Confusion, illusion, all delusion is good and moral

Deep hearted souls straight away inquire;

Could this God of home, land and country appear to destroy it all?

Realism bound in cloak of dark optimism and great mystery

Doomed are we to repeat, repeat, repeat history?

Cheryl A. Broome 4/8/13

Using the prompt provided by http://www.napowrimo.net/  because it’s the 8th day of writing in the 30 day challenge this is written in the form of ottava rima  This is from the Italian poetic form that, in English, usually takes the form of an eight-line stanza of iambic pentameter, with a rhyme scheme of a-b-a-b-a-b-c-c.

(Another great photo by Bryant Hill http://www.bryanthill.com/Home.html)

“No Hold” a cinquain homage to my father

5 Apr

Death’s cold

arms seek to hold

my hero’s love from me

yet not restrained in death’s domain                        

ever be

Image

Refreshingly Unconcerned With the Vulgar Exigencies of Veracity

4 Apr

Image

I don’t give a damn about being happy or sad,

I don’t give a care about following fads,     

Skinny, tall, fat or squat,

Life is too short to get all distraught!

So what if my bank account suffers a drought,

Sooner or later everything heads south!

And if you don’t like what I have to say,

I guarantee you that I won’t lose one single day

Of worry or angst based on this foreplay

Cause what is really true and real and important

Will naturally move to the forefront

Of life and the pursuit of happiness that I hold to be true

I am refreshingly unconcerned with the vulgar exigencies of veracity of you…

Cheryl A. Broome 4/4/13

Seasoned Traveler

4 Apr

Image

Are you fit to be one who travels the sea?

Will your sea legs hold or a landlubber be?

Is it a heartbeat I hear or does the ship bell ring clear?

In your chest does the thought of treasure hold dear?

If the dreams of a life of the sea makes your stay,

and thoughts of golden treasures hold sway,

if your rudder be steady,  

and excitement be heady,

when nothing current or past

will make you avast,

then perhaps you might be my first mate!

We will challenge adventure come near,

Perhaps battle pirates, my dear,

For I think you are fit to for the sea.

Grab your passport

and come sail me.

 

 

Cheryl A. Broome 4/3/13

 

I am truly glad you left me

2 Apr

I am truly glad you left me,

Good riddance mon amie!

You always left the lid up,

Like I could stand to pee!

You drank milk out of the carton,

You left your underwear on the floor,

I Am Truly Glad You Left Me,

I don’t have to put up with YOU anymore!  

Your shaved hair in the sink,

Made me want to drink!

 Your off color jokes,

How much heat they provoked!

I AM TRULY GLAD YOU LEFT ME,

Cause we are finally unyoked.

That’s right!  Now I’ll pee sitting down,

put my milk in a cup,

pick up my undies and

never, ever leave the sink filled with gunk!

 I am PC in my joke telling,

I’ve stop all my yelling,

I am truly glad you left me (sigh),

A new life I am ready to start!

No, those are not tears,

it’s just misplaced sweat that adheres

to my heart. 

Cheers!

Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

 Image 

Cheryl A. Broome  4/2/13  (Picture by Bryant Hill, http://www.bryanthill.com/Home.html)

April Fool’s Day

1 Apr

 

DSC_0157POET

I fancy myself a poet
no fooling, I do
why would I lie?
or give you pie in the sky,
or words of nonsense
that are simply untrue,
when you can and will judge me,
right or wrong,
in a nanosecond, not beyond
so, why would I lie?
about putting a word or two
together to make a rhyme
for that is what poet’s do –
or do they?
Cheryl A. Broome 4/1/13

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