Poetry
Poetry
Lanyards
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Mon, 01/25/2016 - 20:29Dave thought back
to that day at summer camp
when he made lanyards
with his friend Billy
and the help of a camp counsellor.
It was
one of the most important gifts
he gave to his mother that year
which she accepted graciously
without a trace of irony.
Years later, Dave read Billy’s poem
and wondered about his own presumption,
giving a lanyard to his mother,
as if it mattered.
The memories came flooding back
as he kneeled next to the open coffin
saying good bye to his mother
who was clasping a crucifix
with the lanyard attached.
Hannah listlessly dusted
her son’s bedroom
like she had every day
since the overdose.
Everything was still
in the same place
as that fateful day
and she wondered,
what could she have done differently?
Her eyes fell upon a piece of plastic
a lanyard, artlessly woven,
by her son
at summer camp
years ago.
If she had accepted it
graciously,
with a mother’s true love,
maybe he wouldn't be gone
today.
Gary paused
as he swept the rec room
at the summer camp,
pieces of popsicle sticks,
remnants of copper,
some paper mache,
strips of plastic.
He looked at
the incomplete
abandoned
lanyards
and wondered
what would become
of the campers.
To Seek the Unexpected
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Wed, 01/06/2016 - 21:57Perhaps it should be
my resolution
for the New Year
or even
my mantra
for the next twelve months.
To seek the unexpected.
Maybe, it will even become
a poem.
To seek the unexpected.
Like going alone
to an unknown museum
exhibiting
an unknown artist
and finding a new love
instead of running with the crowd
at the big museum
past well known paintings
at their blockbuster
exhibition
or taking the backroads to work,
less direct,
less traffic,
slower,
but worth it
for the different horizons.
This evening I went to church.
It wasn’t a high holy day
like Christmas or Easter.
It wasn’t even Sunday.
It was less than a week
after New Years,
when the usual resolutions
start wearing thin
and your thinking of taking down
the Christmas decorations.
Epiphany.
seeking the unexpected.
What was it like
for the Magi
traveling to a different country
and finding the new ruler
in an unexpected place?
What was it like
for Mary
having strangers visit
after her unexpected
and long expected
labor?
What would it be like
singing the familiar hymns
praying the familiar prayers
with a small group of faithful
on a weeknight?
The one thing
about seeking the unexpected
is that you usually find it
and it is wonderful.
The Labyrinth
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Tue, 12/29/2015 - 21:12A cold rain blows
across the labyrinth
on a hill
on Block Island
as I kneel down
to touch the pebbles;
symbols
of hopes and dreams
of earlier
pilgrims.
That he might see me.
That I might find the courage
to say, “Hi.”
For our life together.
That we might find a home.
For my job, my career.
For the life growing
inside my womb.
That he might conquer his addiction.
That she beats the cancer.
For a better world.
That my life
might have true meaning.
That her final days
might be peaceful,
happy,
and pain free.
For those that mourn.
I kneel down
and touch the pebbles,
as I search for my own hope
my own desires.
To help others
reach theirs.
The Singularity
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Sun, 12/27/2015 - 09:27The folk of birds
flew in tight formation
as it they were one being
made of many
and I thought
maybe
the singularity
is already here
made of many.
The flock of Facebook,
Google,
Fox News,
ABC, NBC, CBS, PBS,
America,
England,
France,
Russia,
Germany,
Italy,
Japan,
Protestant,
Catholic,
Muslim,
Jew,
has evolved
beyond comprehension
through the use
of new technologies,
while we
the nodes
have evolved
little.
December
Submitted by Aldon Hynes on Mon, 12/07/2015 - 20:10“April is the cruelest month”,
but December ain’t that easy either.
At AA meetings,
the litanies begin,
“I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the holidays”,
and the person who has lost a loved one
nods in assent.
The lonely
look at the crowds
of merrymakers,
feeling left out
and the yearly battles
begin again,
starting even before black Friday,
as far back
as Halloween.
Merry Christmas,
Happy Holidays.
Hanukkah, Kwanza
Solstice, Saturnalia.
The advertisers offer their balm.
If you buy this item,
you’ll have friends
and be happy,
but the monks and mystics
focus on Advent,
a period of quiet expectation
before the incarnation
a time drowned out
by the marketing madness.
