FIRST
REVIEWS
Comments From Everyday Folk
This delightful, often profound anthology is far more than a book of love poetry. It is a story of two people successfully joining hands and hearts across three decades of life… Many times I found myself smiling through tears, or laughing outright as I approach my own 30th year of marriage, I will read this endearing volume again.
Jan Galbraith, Photographer, Financial Office Administrator, Alpine, Utah
There is a place for poetry in everyone's life…Martin's love poems remind us that men can still be romantics…I believe both men and women will find Martin's poems to be inspiring.
Dan Casey, Art Card Distributor and Motorcyclist, Tacoma, WA
How extraordinary to find a mate that is both an anchor and a tank full of rocket fuel; someone who wipes away the tears when needed yet knows when to say "Get over it!", and shows you how! His affections cover a wide geography. In one poem he might refer to his wife Judy as Commander and in another as his Cookie-Hair-girl.
Sylvia Mabry, Nurse and Online Photo-Artist. Boston, MA
Comments From Martin’s First Poetry Publishers
Martin Kimeldor’s works penetrate and shower the reader with a truism not normally found with today's poetry writers. His artful talent extends to a menagerie of art and prose giving the reader something more that just the written word. His ensemble of word and art brings about a clarity of the moment not seen in many of today’s writers
Phil Davis, Poet and Publisher, The Penpoint View
Martin Kimeldorf's poetry defies the established conventions of contemporary poetry and dares to be cosmic, original, romantic and self-expressive. His work is frequently accompanied by photographic art, and appeals to the reader's emotions and social memory.
Dr. Mary Ann Sullivan, Editor, The Tower Journal
Kimeldorf's poetry speaks to the heart. With faultless allegory, he builds images that readers identify within their own experience. While writing about the mystical, eclectic, yet eternal nature of love, however, he has the skill to insert lighthearted humor. His photographic art illustrates his words with deft delicacy.
LaVonne Taylor, Publisher, The Taylor Trust: Poetry & Prose
How To Stay In Love, Forever
By
Martin Kimeldorf
Copyright.2010.Martin Kimeldorf.
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
For permission to excerpt, share poems in a review, or distribute poems in any form
please contact the author at kimeldorf@comcast.net
ISBN
1. Poetry. 2. Romance
Discover other titles by Martin Kimeldorf at Smashwords.com
Creating Love Poems and More
Tips, Tricks, and Techniques
INTRODUCTION
In 1976 our country celebrated 200 years of existence. Judy and I celebrated our perfect union by getting married and heading for a New York City honeymoon. We had both been married before. We both were in our 30s. Separately we were neither special nor unique. Together we have stayed in love for over 30 years and that seems extra-ordinary in these times.
Judy is seven years my senior. She is wiser, more diplomatic and very perceptive. I knew I needed a partner like that to thrive. Now in my 60s I realize how she has artfully carved a decent person out of my rough hewn materials.
Thirty-plus years later we have moved far beyond the adolescent honeymoon moment. Each day's routines include a little bit of fussing, discussing, and sparking. Yes, along with the honey of love, we also draw energy (or at least amusement) from the spicy part of our differences.
Since we are retired our mornings now begin slowly, coffee in hand, newspaper spread across the table. I read the cartoons and show her the prize strips; she reads back articles of interest. We both enjoy reading to ourselves and out loud to each other. We love words.
When she's had enough of my morning newspaper rants, she humorously redirects me--tongue in cheek--gerbling: “You're a mean sucker.” And, when she asks me the same question about how to make email attachments for the 400th time, I get a hold of my frustration by warning, “now don’t act like a little techno-dumb-fuk.”
Yes, part of our formula for marriage includes chuckling at ourselves, teasing, and later laughing at the each other’s annoyances. Judy has taught me not to take myself too seriously. And that is a good thing for a fellow raised in an overly-structured family.
Because we enjoy language, we’re fond of passing along quotes and sayings, the same way some people pass the salt and pepper. When life hands us a harsh moment we try to respond with humorous quips. My most recent one has been:
The optimist believes that this is the best of all possible worlds;
And the pessimist fears the same.
Somehow, for over 30 years, we have generally remained optimistic. I’d like to claim that a small part of that optimism grows out of writing three poems a year to Judy since 1976. I craft two for February to celebrate Valentine's Day and her birthday. Then in August I pen another one for our anniversary.
I use any-and-all materials in my poems including: sayings, cancelled checks, cartoons, notes from my research, snapshots, photo-art, lines from other poems, lyrics from songs, crossword puzzles, current events. I often incorporate ideas from the latest fixation one of us may be enjoying such as skiing, photography, swimming, bicycling or bird watching. Just about all the poems have survived the journey, including a few written before we got married.
Like everyone else we set off with high hopes, unrealistic dreams, and sometimes overly-detailed plans. Like everyone else we found that life is what happens when you're busy making plans. And this brings us to our next favorite quote:
If you want to make God laugh
Tell him your plans.
Now in retirement we spend even more time together which is not hard for good friends. Her days are busy with volunteer work, book clubs, gardening, visiting friends and aerobics class. My daily activities include photography, writing, community service, gym work, cooking and meanderings.
While we try to live with a degree of hope, that fragile feeling is hard to sustain where morning often is greeted by a shadow-filled horizon. On a personal level, getting older means reaching more for pain pills and less for scotch. It sometimes means not sleeping so well. Many nights we are only able to find slumber after reading out loud, cuddling or just reviewing how our day went.
Most autumnal and wintry weekends we have a few cocktails and review our many photo album-scrapbooks or digital slide shows. And many of the early snapshots are included in this collection. In the spring and summer I enjoy an outdoor cigar as we reminisce on the garden patio. And through all these habits of the heart, we remain realistic enough to know that
No good deed
goes unpunished.
In 2009 I decided to compile the all the poems and give the collection to Judy. I sent out over 20 poems to test the waters, and all were selected for publication within three months. This became the spark that ignited the notion of sharing the collected works with others. The poetry follows an approximate chronological order. And in addition to the snapshots used in earlier poems, my more recent photo-art works have been added to this collection. In my mind many, many times the images work with the words like a seasoning.
At the same time, I harbor no illusions about being a great poet, but I think I've done a decent job of being a husband and remaining in-love with my partner. That is my good deed, my gift to our relationship.
And let me make one very important point regarding poems of the heart. When you craft a letter or poem to someone, this action is not about creating great literature, but rather it is a great act in itself. It matters not how many or how well you write but rather that you felt moved to hand over a gift of words…That is also how I hope to be judged.
As I said earlier, I'm not above borrowing or adapting other people's words, photos, or artifacts in my poetic endeavors. This last year, I bought John Hiatt's album Same Old Man. His lyrics and music touch a chord inside me. I played his CD almost every day at breakfast for a year. And for that yearly anniversary poem, I adapted some of his lines from the title song. This is illustrated next:
Hiatt’s Original Verse
You start out trying to change everything
You wind up dancing with who you bring
My Adaptation Of His Verse To Our Story
You started out trying to help me change
You wound up dancing with my small change
And just as I have borrowed from Mr. Hiatt, I encourage you to borrow and adapt my lines as you write your own love story or try to share your feelings with your partner. That's why I call this booklet my good deed. (Gosh, I hope I escape punishment from the literati).
After 30 years and a stock market crash my savings and portfolios show that God is still laughing at my plans. But I feel wealthy or at least lucky in ways beyond the measure of money. (No, I'm not trying to sell you a Ponzy scheme.)
I'd like to end this attempted introduction with lines from the 19th century poet Robert Browning. In the Autumnal season of his life he fell in love with the writings of Elizabeth Barrett. She was an invalid and six years his senior. First he fell in love with her poetry, then after meeting her, fell in love with the poet herself. Some of the most haunting lines he wrote to her appear in the semi-mystical piece entitled Rabbi ben Ezra.
Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
the last of life,
for which the first was made.
Enjoy this book, knowing that if you are lucky enough to share its spirit with someone special, then the best is yet to be…and perhaps you’ll stay in love, forever.
Martin Kimeldorf, Tumwater, WA, 2010
Self Portrait using acrylic paints
Poetic Prelude To A Partnership
I’m an average looking guy, average personality...So the main thing I had going for me was wordplay and cooking. I courted Judy with my fried chicken and potato salad, as well as poetry and letters...
We found out we both revere antiques and history. And, while I endlessly day dream about tomorrow, Judy is rooted in the present moment…differences attract…
The following are a few poems I offered to Judy before we got married.
Me.....Di....Cine
Hold me tighter
i been floating much too long.
Fill me with your easiness
i been hollow, without a song
Lift me with your quiet story
yesterday is long gone
Share just a little of yourself
before the time silently passes on.
I Need Your Embrace
I have nothing but dirty hands,
I am a young man, just scraping by
witnessing life-size events beyond my grasp.....
My day changes 1000 times,
crashing about my ears...
What I wanted has yet to exist,
In the meantime....love me too much...
....i slip too easily into gloom....
Tell your darting, soft eyes
(as they calmly watch me struggle)
tell them to forget
my pensive selfish stare
my uncontrolled, abusive anger--
It is not ME
but too many “me’s” clutching at the hour......
I fear time has forgotten my name
and frustration has gobbled up my soul....
I can only be warm again
in our generous arms.
I need you.
Love waits subdued
Foreign policy
Strange policy in strange lands
prepares scorched earth
and bomb blasted bodies.
(Love waits subdued in a corner of our heart.)
Everyone seems crippled by romantic myths
aborted in the rush of time.
Love lies subdued
unknown
unfelt
a fiction of commercial-land
an acne on the empire’s face
Love is sought in bottles and needles
in small unfit dwellings,
becoming simply moments freed from anger
(Love grows subdued,
and remains reluctant on our lips).
People in a future age
People with embracing arms
Will look back in bewilderment, asking:
“How did they live such love-less lives?”
We were here
and not much more.....
Kept silent by vision-less eyes.
I whisper in your ear the breath of life:
I Love You.
Lady Love
Lady Love
dwells in mystically soft night
She adds fluorescence
while the window shade soaks up moonlight,
Lady Love
play with me,
more charades of sensuality,
Be kind with my flimsy self,
And don't tell me
when you must go......
make love joyous----instead of confusin’
DENOUNCE THE MOON
The moon cannot escape the night
Cities will not shed their neon-glamour
Age will yield you not one extra second--
I will never give up my love of you
I'll not regret pursuing you.
I must say good-bye
because a Want Ad calls my name,
I'll be interviewed
for a paycheck,
and feel the career knife
cutting me off from the living.
Love is fragile
though it blusters like the wind.....
To err is human
and I'd do it again!
Drain me
and I’ll be back for more--
Isn't that what love is for?
If I’m wrong
DENOUNCE THE MOON!
Why is reason so important?
DAMN the gods for giving us feelings!
If my love for you
is an impossible dream
Then lock me up a crazy man
in a world asleep and sane.
Sunrise In The Late 20th Century
On our 10 year anniversary I wrote the following letter to Judy...
Dear Judith,
I know I spent a lot time these last few years in front of a computer screen and behind the wheel of a commuter car.
It may seem that I sometimes forget.I may seem fixated on projects and goals. But I carry your picture in my wallet....always.
I have your picture pasted on the side of my computer. I have your picture recorded in my memory. Printed, collated, and bound in my heart
And occasionally the words stream out as poems.
I have re-written these past and present poems to celebrate our 10 + 1 years of marriage. I tried to make my best ones better (the computer can be a useful machine). I look forward to rewriting this book again in another 10 + years.
I'm thinking about you each day
I'm loving you each day....even when it isn't obvious.
--Me
New Person: May 27, 1976
Collect a little sunshine
in the tears upon your cheek,
let out a whimper
for pains within your heart,
whistle a homey folky song
for all the good feelings in your soul....
Drink deep from the river of forgetfulness.
Keep moving down that Eastern road
where the sunrise colors
gush across the waterfalls....
.....tumbling, tumbling.......
............on and on............
A Moment Forever
If this moment
were stretched across my lifespan
I could reach up into the night
And swirl the huge star soup
with my tiny fingers
If you were a tree
You'd bear the ripe-est fruits
dripping with juicy, saucy sugars
If you were the ocean
we'd be rolling over and over
in wave after wave
And never quench the blistering moment
we've created
Dance Them Blues Away
You danced them blues away for me
When I was crippled in my private hell
and could not dance,
you came prancing into my heart
kicking up heels like a thunder clap--
throwing sparks into dark corners!
Absorbing the pain in my chest.
It somehow escaped me
that the dance we shared would be brief.
I could not see behind your pixie smile
the good-bye nested there....
Lady,
you danced them blues away for me,
giving me something to love
and a moment of being loved.
Lasting Moment
i hang suspended
by a spider-fine
silk of emotion
i dangle---
and I’m not afraid to fall
head and heals…loving you
In this precarious moment
i hear a doubting voice...
I care not!
Somewhere
deep inside
I find a new gravity
to hold me firm----
Let love remain a fickled story.
Tonight I feel completed.
Her Sweet Sweet Child Eyes
Child eyes
perched
on your mushroom face
Keep on with your miles of smiles
and gaggles of giggles.
Deceive me a little more
Lest I find too much knowing in your speech
or find years full of wisdom in your gestures.....
It is too easy to forget your childness
(quietly smothered in our day's work)
Child eyes
keep for me your abandoned smile,
Don't let me freeze out here
in adult rags!
Let me come in
and sit in your warm touch......
Railroad Crossing
When the dream got too big,
When the color over-dazzled,
When the vision saw too much,
Life seemed small and mean.
Living became cramped.
Compromise was impossible.
So
I took a walk
and talked a good talk
I made a rhyme
with forgetful wine,
I kicked pity in the ass
and hitchhiked away....
Lookin’ for the next outbound transport
the next
railroad crossing.
Brief Reunion
She pulled a rusty heartstring
on this cheap guitarsoul of mine.
An old song called out about: “love wingi’ by-and-by.”
She plucked a memory
from the vine of yesterday,
A fruit I had forgotten
Its ripeness slowly faded......
The sweet words cost me nothing,
it was only a dreamer's song.
Even though the melody
caught my feelings....
I will sing no more
of love that's gone.
Sky Mural
PART I
I'm a big open raggedy sky
loafing through time
embezzling the years....
I'm a big empty sky
grinning across the horizon
"my o-zone is your-zone"
I'm a big dumb sky
crying' down rain,
sometimes mad with thunder;
I'm a big and open sky
empty and dumb....
mostly empty.
I need some sunshine hills
some birdie-song trees,
I need some green stuff
and singin' things....
I need some wise ol’ rocks
to tell me of time--
and some cities and farms
so's I feel the livin' about me!
I need some home-cooked food
to make me less raggedy,
I need to find some celebratin' fools
who will drink down sunshine
'stead of tears.
Then the sky would have reason
to shine-on...shine-on
PART II
I need your cloud-soft arms
wrappin' me in foggy love,
Lashing down my wild winds
calming the thunder in my gut...
Hold me tight
while the planet dances with chaos!
Some jive sociologists said:
"I got nothing to fear but at-most-phere"
But I fear belonging to only a big empty sky
(cut off from your ever-lovin'-earth kisses.....)
Join me
and I'll give you clear sunny-sky days
lusty star-nights.
Sociological Sweetheart
My thesis: To remain your conjugal companion
My model: To remain foot-note-fully yours
Please write me into your bibliography
and quote my love
without speculation,
"if then....however...and.....thus we see"
My final conclusions:
I love thee (footnote #1)
(#1) 1always
ibid
ibid
op.cit
to wit
and smooch
Teacher
You're the best damn geography teacher.
You made me a map I can follow!
The affectionate sign posts
get me going
when I'm on dark roads to nowhere.
Hey Jude
I need you.
You got this fun-glow....
Your flashlight lesson plans
help blind fools like me to graduate.
Your words and thoughts
could fill a hundred history books
and I wouldn't be bored.
Hey Jude
when can I take the final exam?
Economics Birthday Card
You must have been a beautiful baby
You must have been a beautiful child
You were so underrated
Not even incorporated
You must have drove
the supply siders wild
We offer you a blue chip portfolio
promising health and economic bliss
With a hug and remunerative kiss....
There are no better days behind us
That are not now before us...
Hallelujahs ring out in chorus
with cake and candles before us!
You must have been a beautiful baby
You little cutie
Happy birthday
Judy
--from all of us changing the course
Birthday Fruits
How young you were
How old
we become.
You're still
my sweetest
plum.
Days be numbered
and hours
have wings,
Always in my life
you be a 1000
delicious things.......
Wonder(ful) Woman
Wonder Woman
rides steel belted chariots
with iron tooled bracelets
while smiting idiots.
Protectress of youth's wan smile
Defender of gut-level democracy
Purging mediocrity!
Wonder Woman
let me try on your sky-flying--cape....
It's not too late.
Wonder Woman
Leaping conflicts in a single bound,
turning out dues-paying boogey men
Wonder Woman
can I come home with you?
Harlequin Romance...The Saga from 1976-1982
Sometimes I like to make fun of pop culture as I did in the “romance novel” imitation.
She flounced across the room...Like a veil floating on summer's arid night. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed this midnight nymph...moving like a dream figure. Turning quickly on his heel, he riveted his intense blue eyes upon her...he stiffened. She could sense the heat of his gaze. She saw how his knuckles were turning white as he grabbed the brass rail with his crushing grip.
It was exciting.
She knew he was going to ask her tonight. Stealthy he approached her....Like a lion on the prowl. His locks (at least the remaining strands) shook like ocean waves as he bounded towards her.
"Will you?"
"I've thought about it," she said hesitantly.
"What's the problem?"
"I have a few concerns"
He waited eagerly. He knew it was the final moment of the hunt. It was the final struggle for his prey.
"I wonder about your allergy and if I'll be able to sleep at night...In the Spring, you know. And what about your earning potential. Will you still love me when I'm sixty four...and no longer a bread winner?" She asked.
He stopped her inane babbling with a kiss. It was a fire-cracker moment!!
She shut her eyes and forgot about visa cards, car bills, and whole life insurance. She went limp in his arms. He held her firmly, their lips pressed together as if never to part....as if one.
Catching her breath, stepping back, she gasped:
"Yes, I'll marry you"
He sighed.
They tenderly embraced as the sun set and sparkled goldy light upon the couch. The Chablis in the glass caught the sunset reds....the night was very young.
He said (out of character, out of script):
Love is not a fantasy, it is a necessity.
And humor is the spice that brings me back for more.
LOVING YOU EACH DAY
O' Woman.....I'm loving you each day.
Leave me no time beyond,
Leave me no days but you,
Having made with me
not web-string
but man-rope
O' Woman.....I'm loving you each day.
Be here, as you are smooth.
Be one as we are two!
Unlocked first thoughts
means nothing enters harmfully.
O' Woman.....I'm loving you each day.
Strong for--me.....as for--you
Our faintest touch roped so tight!
Be sailing with me into the long creased smile
where pain cannot call us by name.....
The other eyes outside see
Only the dust image
of the moist ones within....
No one can see
No fist will intrude
Where there is no door!
O' Woman.....I'm loving you each day.
Thinking about you all the time
Lonely Hours of Love
A thousand symbols float by.
The minutes and hours let out a lowly sigh.
I feel you here beside me....
I hear your voice inside me......
....there's music playing in my head.
The night is thick and sandy.
I'm washing down the hours with brandy.
If you were only here to touch
my skin would tighten like a drum.
I'm getting thirsty.
You're being away is life's miserable mistake.
My Cookie Hair Gal
1976 Fireworks celebrated America's second 100 years.
We lit a candle atop a Hilton restaurant for our second marriage.
You wore a gauzy, blue-green dress.
Your new natural-permanent curls advertised your lips as kissable!
During these last 10 years I've lived like a king,
in a castle with your lovey charms.
The kitchen filled with smells of pastry making
Butter, flour, sugar....all melted and whipped...
The scent of sweet chocolate chips hangs in the air
then gently settles onto my cookie hair gal.
In 1986 I still love to pet and paw and smell
my cookie hair gal!
In 1986 America is a mean and selfish land
…a place of fear…
In 1986 my mother is prematurely parked in a retirement home
…at war with her world of fears…
On our walks...during our fire place brandy talks
we shared a library of ideas.....
I may never have traveled abroad
but I have crossed continents and oceans of change
these ten years.
You were my trusted carpenter
Re-building the vessel when I ran a-ground......
You whipped me into shape
like so much cookie batter!
I'm putting in my order
for a baker's dozen more years
with the sweet smelling cookie hair gal.
Slip into pink
Tonight
slip me some skin
beneath soft linen sheets.
Wrap me tightly
in sweet, remembering dreams.
Throw breathy moans and shrieks
into the spinning room,
I'm a born-again
an-ti--ci--pating groom.
Collapse in slow motion
upon a cloudy bed,
Your silent smile
tames jungles in my head.
Set the clocks
at least one hour early.
[Making the night that much longer.]
Toss down an extra drink
Turn off the lights
(sh-h-h-h)
slip into pink.
I know someone
I know a person with a gorgeous smile
with a comely smirk
and a kindhearted heart.
I know person with an everyday laugh
with a funny bone talk
and lampoonish thoughts
I know a person with a listening ear
with an inner confidence
and a tactful touch
I know a person with spirited confidence
with love's allegory
and a down-home disposition
I know a person who makes me feel warm inside
She is the calorie in my everyday-counter,
and I count on her!
I know Judy…
Grammar of the Long i
Life is too short
for a silent i --
You miss it all
with dream-filled eye's…( i , i 's)
Life is too short
for the silent i--
the passive voice
and traffic signs.
Maybe i could figure it out
with tangents and co-sins,
Or buy advice
with dollar signs
while consulting astrological charts
for star designs.
Some try to steal the answer
but I'm no good at crime,
My composure would dissolve
in guilt ridden enz(i)mes
Instead--
i 'll spend my days reminiscing with you
about past participles,
Enjoying the present tense
in your presence,
Conjugating the hours
with you
in the active voice,
Knowing that the future-perfect
is just around the corner
of time.
During The Morning After A Bad Week
When deep waters turn gray
and stars shine not so bright,
You become my lantern
in the stumbling night.
When I sit and stare,
and each breath becomes a sigh--
You are clever enough
to simply ask me,
“Why?”
When my focus is too narrow
and I’m seeing only me
You open up my horizon
and set my spirit free.
Your perspective
is always corrective…
Like a doctor’s prescription--
Your words send me in a new direction…
And then
I can jump start my day!
I lOvE YOur COffeE…
You are the cream in my cup
Your caffeine laugh pumps me up.
Swirl and swirl…
spoon me round and roun…
Together we steam and play
making a luscious
cafe au lait!
I could drink this brew all the time,
Please be my coffee-valentine.
[This was a year to wake up
and drink new coffee.
Thanks for being my brew]
3 Words--felt
(but sometimes left unspoken)
((atonement 12/6/89))
Each day a 1000 words
drop from my mouth
But 3 words appear stuck,
sometimes unable to get out...
3 parts of our foundation,
bridge-work …from me…to you
3 words taken for granted,
in the small things that we do.
3 words I pledge
to share more often...
3 words taken from the unspoken,
Launched like magic ships
When uttered from my lips:
I Love You
I Love You
I Love You
I Love You
Crazy, Crazy Numbers
Crazy crazy numbers,
that fence in our lives…
*height *weight*age *
all lies, lies, lies.
Crazy crazy numbers,
about people, places, and things
*address*paycheck*lotto ticket *
fractional parts of a numerical dream.
Crazy crazy numbers,
counting time in seconds through years
*races * watches * calendars *
Absorbed in the moment, time all but disappears .
Crazy crazy numbers,
re-telling our age
in a fanciful way.
Crazy crazy numbers,
forget that dreams are built on tomorrows
and not yesterdays.
Crazy crazy numbers,
It’s your birthday--I remembers.
Space Lady Gazette…
Excerpts from an astronut’s diary
10…9…8
push buttons
set to mid-life range
(lean back and enjoy--seat-belts won’t help--
--OOPs, forgot the blood pressure pills)
…3…2…1
[Whoooooosh--Life Ship Enters]
Years later
astronut Marty is found
circling a large question mark,
burning for answers.
Looking to my right I see the Earth far below
Gravity and youth
no longer pulls upon me.
Looking to my left I see Judith...
as though far away, perhaps high above
with a star-glowing look.
I could never have made the trip this far
without co-pilot Judith.
She left her silver suit in the cabin,
not needing protection out here.
She's in her realm:
not worrying where the ship is bound,
she sits a queen
in this glass-dark heaven.
You were the one I dreamt of as a child
--never met you--
but hoped someday I would.
Strange luckless cosmos
in an arbitrary moment of forgetfulness
tossed you into my ship’s cabin!
(Who says winning isn’t everything?)
Here in deep and lonely space
You tend a garden of darkness
sprinkling the stars like seeds
across my emptiness.
While the sun glows in shy
and envious quietude.
I once thought the sun a bright thing.
Now I see it’s only purpose
is to light the colors and textures
--the clothes you wear as flowers.
As we leave the Earth’s gravity
I wonder if I will ever find another force
to guide my unsteerable thrusters
(driving me in endless circles
round endless questions marks).
Your patience and forbearance,
Your ability to wait for the right moment,
overwhelms this astronut:
wolfing down moments
consuming large mouthfuls of mistakes.
In awe I watch your graceful weightlessness
--balanced--
gyros silently…constantly navigating.
Something pulls upon the ship.
Something draws me to a course.
Could I have found a path?
One I cannot yet name or recognize???
Slowly drawn to this pedestal in space,
Looking up
I know I want to be with you there--atop
the pyramid of your simple living and enjoyment…
Please wait for me!
I’m sure I can find the way,
pulled by the gravity of your charms,
guided by a glance--a moment’s expression,
following
your looks,
your love.
Even If I Had Never…
Even if I had never
written a single poem, play, or book
The words we shared
would fill me with thoughtful volumes.
Even if I had never
painted the pictures “only a mother could love”
watching you parade the fashionable clothes before me
would be color and design enough.
Even if I had never
sharpened a chisel or carved a block of wood
my hands would be satisfied
with caressing you.
Even if I had never
been able to play tennis or basketball until I sweat
the walks we took
would always warm my heart.
Even if I had never
performed a single magic trick
the moments spent on vacation
were mystery enough.
But I’ve been able to do all these things
and still talk with and watch you
hold, smell, and caress you
share vacation and long walks with you
It means that I must be wealthy beyond all imagination!
Happy Valentine’s Day
my love!
The Genetic Code Of Marriage
Two Stories
intertwined
in a double helix
Bonded by a code of inner meaning
Reproducing
itself
each day.
Marriage is an unfinished tale
‘…till death do us part…’
and
‘…life do us join…’
And this day
‘…do we celebrate…’
fifteen years of marriage
Fifteen years a common theme
two stories intertwined
An unfinished tale...
Birthday Proclamation
Scout Judy
Front and Center
(Always Centered)
I Salute You!
(Always adore you)
You have earned the
Pioneer Vacation Badge
and
Sweet Mocha Smile Medal
for your tooth fairy sweet-heart song
for being ever present
(always effervescent)
Furthermore…
Since you’re fond of saying
“Nothing ventured...nothing gained.”
I’m adventuring with you
“You Komachin Junior High Kutie?
Or as Bobby might say,
Tambourine woman take me on a trip
inside your enchanted mystic ship
I’m not waiting any longer
and there is no place I’m goin’ to…
(“I’ll always be followin’ you.”)
Make Valentines Not Bombs
When people make war--not love
It’s hard to think about valentines
during these days of war and anger
It’s hard to make a poem rhyme
Nations afraid to turn the other cheek
offer instead a fist at great cost,
abandoning vision--for patriotism
sanity and normalcy have been lost…
If I could take my love for you
and mail it to people in the Mideast
Perhaps scuds would turn into suds
and we’d chain the warring beast.
I’m sure the Mideast censor
would trash letters of love
So I’m sending it on to you
because you’ve kept our love going
--even with postage due…
Happy 1991 Valentines
even in these darkened times…
Anniversary Slogan Worksheet
Ah hah…it must be getting near to school.
Here is an Anniversary Slogan Worksheet.
These quotes come from “I Feel Much Better Now That I’ve Given Up Hope” book. Your assignment is to read each statement and check off any which sound like me talking to you. This will then be published in Parade Magazine.
__Watch out
It’s quite possible some of my best mistakes haven’t yet been made.
__Because of you
I remember the good times
And because of the good times
I remember you.
__Don’t come too much closer
I might love you more.
__You may never learn to understand me
But in trying you may learn to love me.
Happy August 5th-1992
I still love you so very much!
Unsent letter I’m sending you…
The “unsent letter” is often used in journal writing. I’m breaking the rules and I am sending it to you on Valentine’s Day.
My Dear Judy,
I'm sitting here inventorying why I love you. The inventory has become a list of all the ways my life has been gloriously enriched...by being with you. My throat swells as I recount this list of blessings. Now I pause to write it out.
I’m fascinated by the world about me. And as you know, it also terrifies me. There are two magical ingredients which you have heightened with your living-culinary expertise. The first is confidence and the second is humor. Sure, I had some of both before, but they were crude ingredients. Now, these two “flavors” actually hearten my daily living. I used to be scared about money and budgets, about people and employers, about my own failings. You taught me humor and grace in the face of adversity, and, in the face of myself.
Money is such a shallow pool of blood. You showed me that money is just money--something to be used and enjoyed. Money saved is really dead money, it is money we’re afraid of possessing. Having lots makes us afraid of losing lots. Sharing, some budgeting, and some frivolity…that’s the new balance you taught me.
I used to be afraid of almost all employers...and many people. But I watch and listen how you handle the yo-yo’s at work (staff, parents, peers). I learn from each story you tell. I’d even have to say that you were brilliant in this area. Karl Marx taught me to fear employers, but you taught me that employers are bozos like the rest of us. You helped me realize that labels and ideologies clouded one’s perceptions. For instance, conservatives could often be great friends while liberals were often disappointing.
I usually attribute all sorts of hidden motives to people. When I lack information, I often make up stories to fill the gap. Your quips about “paranoia” and encouragement to “wait another day to see if it passes” are incredibly on target for me. You see, I never had that kind of poise or presence. I lacked grace, and you taught me how to have it.
Part of learning to live with others and live with truth begins with truth about one’s self. You showed me how truth can be found in laughing at one’s foibles. I would never have dreamed of telling my hemorrhoid story. But, after listening to you and your family, I think I finally mastered the art of laughing at one’s self, one’s vanity, one’s virtues.
I sit and think back to the 70s when I first met you, in the bowels of the student union. You seemed to exist on another plane…gourmet cooker, leader, laugh-er. Then as now you were a charismatic person. You instantly became someone I wanted to meet. Today, after many years, I understand even more why so many people liked, admired and loved you. And I think I’m the luckiest guy in the world, cause I got you without having to win the Lotto.
Loving you,
M.
Birthday-Valentines thoughts at the beginning of a New Epoch
Fist full of prayers
gesturing before an army marching on bended knees,
tramping to ritualistic cadences
Clouds settle gradually onto the horizon
as cold air turns bare cheeks and knuckles red,
The blue-orange sherbet sky
is turning into a darkly gray sunset.
Twisting weather vanes
only creak
--and will say no more.
Take me with you
into the gathering storm..
I’ll hold the umbrella,
and you hold fast my arm.
The Mathematics Of Love
Happy
Valentine’s
Day
Martin and Judy Celebrate Their 5840th Anniversary!
Note--Sometimes I like to mimic pop-culture as I did in the “romance novel” as a newspaper gazette page…
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Vol 1, No 18_______Published Annually_______Aug 5-1993
(AP) Believe it or not, Martin and Judy Kimeldorf celebrate their 5840 anniversary of the day they were married. It all started out 16 years ago, on a sultry August day, in Downtown Portland, Oregon, during the bi-centennial (1976). Little did they know that summery day that 5840 days later they would be celebrating again.
When asked, why they celebrate each day instead of each year, the lovely Mrs. Kimeldorf responded with an old fashioned proverb, “The past is a canceled check, you can’t spend it anymore. The future is a promissory note which might not be paid off. The present is cash, spend it wisely.”
Then she turned smartly on her new leather sandals and headed in for Nordstroms. Mr. Kimeldorf put down his newspaper, and remarked half in jest, “I just finished reading the obituaries. It is really fascinating. Everyone seems to die in alphabetical order. But, on a serious note, it reminds me that not everyone who goes to sleep will get up tomorrow. So why not try and celebrate every day.”
This reporter looked puzzled, “Do you really celebrate every day?” Kimeldorf then got down-dirty, he got real, “Well not every day. In fact some days we are downright crabby towards one another. But, every August fifth, I think back about every day and marvel at the accomplishment.”
Judy came back from her store trip and reminded us, “The Butter Cream cake awaits your pleasure!” Then arm-in-arm, lip-to-lip, they murmured something about, “Here comes 5841.”
It has been suggested by some experts that the Kimeldorfs resemble the aliens seen by millions on the cover of the STAR tabloid. You recall the headline, “COUPLE MARRIED FOR 5840 DAYS AND NEVER ONCE APPEAR ON OPRAH!”
While the couple did not deny the allegation of being aliens, they were both been seen patting their left pectoral muscle as they drifted off. In the distance we heard them murmuring, “Make it so, two to beam up.”
Following this ancient ritual, she parted for an espresso bar, and he left for the refrigerator.
Omar And Me Are Talki’’ About You
Note--I like to borrow lines from songs, poems, even my study notes. In this poem I incorporate verse from the Persian poet Omar Khayyam as translated by Edward Fitzgerald in the collected works known as the Rubaiyat. In my hands the poet’s verse becomes a counter-point in my dialogue with him, as I comment upon his fatalistic verse.
OMAR:
Yesterday this Day’s madness did prepare:
Tomorrow’s Silence, Triumph or Despair
Drink…for you know not whence you came, nor why
Drink, for you know not why you go, nor where
MK:
Drink because we are here--together
in a room with painted canvas
in a room with friends and food
Celebrate...and know why this moment is dear
A Book of Verses underneath the bough
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou
It is so simple
It is so much more than enough…