Poems du Jour

Seasonal Weather
By C.K. Armistead
12/27/2015

That Vandal, Banshee wind
Charges down the plains
From the North
Roaring its displeasure
Rattling fences,
Overturning suburban trashcans
Making the steam rising
From the neighbor's heating vent
A ragged banner, flung violently
Southward,
As if issuing a challenge to Texas.

The sparrows huddle in the
Lee of the house
Popping out now and then
To steal seed from the feeder
And return to the shelter
Of the small evergreen shrub
Beneath my window.
Breathless in the face
Of the wind's onslaught.

And here I sit, behind double-paned windows
Cozy in my room, cup of hot tea
In my hand
And books to warm my soul
Insulated from
That howling Banshee's roar
Though I can feel it,
Yes I can.
An ache, a twinge of warning
In my joints, in my very bones.
Winter has arrived
In his noisy chariot
Behind his howling steeds.


Second Wave
By C.K. Armistead 12/27/15

Now Winter's most insidious minion,
Cold
Picks and pries and seeps his way
Into our homes, into our bones.
All our modern comforts cannot
Completely banish him.
He finds the loosely fitted window,
The poorly insulated wall,
The edge of an aging floorboard
And flings his icy darts at us
As we read, or rest.
At night, only the warmth
Of many blankets-
And our bodies -
Keeps him at bay.
But when you must get up,
He waits to nip at your toes,
And breathe chills down your neck.
There is a warmth in our hearts, though,
That can thwart him.
Love.
Thoughts of those we love
Can send warmth spreading
Outward from our hearts
And can stop Winter's true cold
From harming us.


Oklahoma: 12/27/15
C.K.Armistead

Grey
So dreary and dull
The Oklahoma sky that usually
Sparkles the bluest blue
Cold
So cold that the North wind comes
Screaming down the plains
Freezing the puddles
Trapping the fallen oak leaves there
Like flies in amber
Snow
Not pretty, not yet.
Just a hardscrabble
Central Oklahoma frosting
 So far-
of snow and fallen sleet
Dead grass, dry leaves
And bare branches
Still plain to see.

Pop's Pen
CK Armistead 12/27/15

Fountain pens are living things
Tools with a soul-
Closely associated
With the one who uses them
Many have I collected,
Some very fine
And a joy to use,
But this one,
This one is special.
It's been to War
And back.
It's written letters I've never read.
It has languished long years
Saved in a drawer
Unused.
Its song stilled.
I have inherited it,
Cleaned it,
Refilled it,
And given it a chance.
Now it sings for me
Helping me tell my stories
And remembering
My Pop for me
By the wear of its nib,
The wear on its body,
And the fine accuracy
 Of its point.

Last Week of Advent

Sunday was the fourth Sunday of Advent.  We forgot to light the wreath here at home.  I had a voice recital that evening, and chores from Saturday left to finish, so I guess it got lost in the shuffle.
Things are beginning to feel more Christmassy, but the weather is not.  Far too warm here in Central Oklahoma for me to believe that it is December.  I miss my cold blustery weather. 

Trying to find my way to the Christmas spirit, I wrote this poem today:

Seeking Christmas
By C.K.Armistead 2015

It seems we notice
Only once a year
That Christmas time
Is drawing near.
When, if we really listened,
We would always
Hear
The singing of the angels
Bidding us forget our fear.
For Christmas to keep working,
For it to make a difference
In our living,
We must remember WHY it
Is coming,
And not live for the getting,
But the GIVING.
It comes not to fatten
The bank accounts of merchants,
Or to fill the seats of
Theater-like mega-churches,
It comes not to depress us,
Or to give us "all the feels",
It comes to remind us
That even in great darkness,
Light can be found
It comes to tell us of
Love without bounds
To tell of hope renewed,
To remind us
That we are LOVED
And that joy and love we feel
At Christmas to be near
SHOULD be seen
Every day of the year!

In our church, Advent is the season that begins the church "new year".  We start the cycle over with Advent, waiting in expectation for the One God is sending us, Christmas celebrating His arrival, and on from there through the church year, celebrating and meditating on his life, and what it means to us today, how it should change us, make us better.  Often, it is easy to get stuck in routine, but this tradition does not cause that for me, I find a comfort in the liturgies, the rituals that have been around far longer than I, words that focus my thoughts on Christ, and on what His works, words, and sacrifice mean to me here and now.  There is a comfort in that structure, one that makes it easier for me to travel on in this journey, like a well-marked trail leading on.

So, as our season of anticipation nears its end again, I wish for you a joyful and meaningful celebration of the arrival. May the love that came to earth that night make a difference in those touched by it so that the world may be a better, more loving, more peaceful place.

Third Week Of Advent

Last Sunday we lit the third candle on the Advent wreath, the candle of joy.  Only problem is, this year, I'm not really feelin' it.  Oh, I'm content enough, but I just don't have the anticipation that I usually feel for the Holiday season.  Christmas has become just another set of chores.  This makes me sad, because I have always loved this time of year. Usually, you can feel the extra joy and caring in the air, but this year, everything seems so sinister, and depressing.  So much hate right here in our own country, so many hard hearts, so little compassion. 
Even the traditions I cherish are not giving me much peace or joy this year.  I don't feel particularly depressed or anything, just kind of blah.  Hard to get excited about anything much right now. 
I know there are good things happening, there are LOTS of caring people around still, but the overwhelming media blitz of idiots spouting hate is blotting it out.  Let's hear more about the good things people do, and less about the politicians who just say whatever to get attention. 

Let those of us who are Christians act a bit more like Jesus, and a bit less like the Pharisees.  Let us all be a bit less swift to judge, and a lot faster to offer help. 

I wish for all of you a season of peace and joy, of little things that bring comfort, and loved ones to share it with.  I wish for all of us a world where love grows and hatred fades, and where the joy we are supposed to find in this season is ours all year long.

The Second Sunday of Advent

The Advent Wreath

Which happens to also be the first night of Hanukkah!
So much light in the world this week, in spite of the darkness that is trying to snuff out that light.

This week, even though we have heard news of evil deeds, I have seen acts of compassion and kindness right here in our own home town that give me hope.  Indeed, such things go on all the time, but the world only seems to note the devastating and evil things, never the hopeful things.

Perhaps, in this season of anticipation and the growing of light, we SHOULD focus on the good things in people, and ignore those who would seek attention by their evil acts.  We should avoid lashing out in anger, and rather gather ourselves in love, because love is far stronger than anger, or hate.

Father Tim Sean Youmans, who serves in our parish at St. Paul's, and teaches at Cassidy School, preached a very good sermon this morning.  He talked about the four basic groups that Jews were divided into at the time Jesus started His ministry, and how some of the more extreme ones actually hated the others.  Then, he pointed out how Jesus gathered His twelve disciples from ALL those groups, and got them to work together.  Even then, we were being taught that we ALL need each other, and we ALL have to work together for the good of everyone.  (For God's kingdom is all about love, and using it to overcome fear, anger, and hate.)

It is very difficult to remember love when you are hurt, shocked, and angry.  VERY difficult.  But Love is the Light that we are seeking in this dark time, Love is the Light we are anticipating, the miracle that gives us hope.  We must, in this dark, cold, season, cling to that light, keep it burning in our hearts, and warm others with its warmth, and shed the light on the way for all.

Another Fine Group of Trivial Insights

867-5309 Jenny has to be the catchiest creeper song ever recorded.

When you have online friends, they are often just waking up when you are headed to bed, and vice versa.

Of all the coins that multiply in bottles, dishes, pockets, old purses and under couch cushions, why do pennies have to be the most prolific?

No matter how annoying, there is still something mournful that makes me think of tales that could be told in the notes of a train horn.

Random songs often get stuck in my head, especially things I'm working on for voice.  My voice coach says that this is my subconscious going over the details on its own.

Whenever someone comes to dine at our house, they end up spending an inordinate amount of time keeping us company while we do dishes.  (Small kitchen, lots of dishes.)

Being tired and knowing it's time to go to sleep doesn't make it any easier to get up from this desk and go get ready for bed.  The idea of getting up and doing that much stuff wears me out.

"Instant Dry" nail polish never is.

Laundry:  Another one of those jobs that has to be done again almost as soon as you're finished. Like dishes, cooking, or checking in books.

Yes, the Oxford comma is VERY important.

Coffee after 7pm or so is generally a bad idea where I'm concerned...

In winter, I can honestly say that I love my hot flashes.  (I'm never cold for long!)

My husband is a sweetheart, and he indulges me something awful.

Major appliances are always just waiting for the chance to betray you. This is why we buy service agreements.

I know I'm part Scot.  I know this because bagpipes stir something deep in my soul.  The response I have is visceral, and the old songs seem too familiar for the number of times I've actually sung them.

Why is it that on the days I really WANT to go out and walk, the weather is such that I cannot, and thus am stuck on the elliptical again?

Winter always reminds me exactly how many times it has visited me in the past.

Just because Shasta doesn't sell a diet version of their "California Dreamin'" Orange creme soda, doesn't mean I can make my own.  Half diet Cream Soda, half diet Orange Soda.  GOOD.

Cape Cod Sweet Mesquite kettle cooked potato chips should probably come with an "addictive substance" warning.

Giving feels especially good when you know it will benefit a cause dear to your heart.

The news media just CANNOT go with the information they have in hand, they HAVE to speculate.  It's never a good idea.

Some communities do not recognize the importance of their libraries, for instance, relegating them to "leisure activities".  Very thankful that our community sees us as a MAJOR asset, and not a "leisure activity", though we certainly provide plenty of leisure activities.  We are mainly seen as a valuable information and technology resource, and a partner in the education of the whole community.

Writing the Christmas cards is probably my least favorite holiday activity.

I must have been suffering from temporary insanity last year.  I put one of the cat's old bells on the zipper pull to this sweater.  Now, when I move, I keep looking for the cat so I don't step on her.  She's been dead more than two years...

I must be getting old.  It used to seem, when I was a kid, that Christmas would NEVER get here, and now, it seems like I no sooner get the decorations put away, and it's time to haul them out again, because Christmas is breathing down our necks again.  Still, I love this time of year...