Point of View…
First published by Jean Mar 16, 2012
I understand
that you don't.
from this side
it's clear
you're looking
through mud.
stop stirring the sediment.
it settles for a reason.
now, look again.
Jean
The Old Gazebo…
posted by Jean Dec 22, 2006
Winter. Late afternoon.
The beach is empty. The air is grey-blue.
The ocean is grey-silver, scattered with foamy white waves.
At the high-tide mark is a long wooden, railed walkway leading to
an old gazebo perched on top of the highest dune.
Inside the gazebo is a picnic table with benches.
Under the table is a pair of small deck shoes.
Between the shoes is an empty styrofoam coffee cup.
The most interesting thing is on the table. An open book.
The pages on the left are flapping lightly with the breeze.
The pages on the right are clipped together by a pen.
They struggle to move with the wind..
On that first page on the right is a single handwritten line.
In the most delicate and precise penmanship. It says…
"I am going home."
Questions …
Posted by Jean April 25, 2026
Do you pray?
Why? and to what?
Do you get answers?
Did someone teach you
Bless me, Father, for I have sinned...?
it's been a long time
since my last confession.
Do you feel better after Amen?
I thought about joining a convent
until I read "The Nun's Story".
That's when I started asking questions.
I was 10.
over, under, around and through…
First published by Jean Oct 25, 2012
it's a tap dance with
no rhythm.
it's a waltz
counting 3-2-1.
no square dance has
four corners.
the tango isn't
done with one.
the two-step is
out of step.
the last dance
will always be
ashes, ashes
we all fall down.
trying doesn't
feel like doing.
even the leaves
don't make sense.
when they dance
down the street
it sounds like rain.
March 11, 1945…
Today is Memorial Day ...
Jean posted this in 2012 and suggested it to me. Even though he didn't die in war, I didn't want to wait until next March 11 so I thought I'd post it on Memorial Day ... which is still worthy of a day to itself - May 30 - and not an excuse for a 3-day weekend.
I know I've mentioned
before that my dad served
in the Navy on the
USS Randolph during WW2.
As is so common with veterans,
he didn't share many details
of his service with his family.
He talked about learning to box
and getting his nose broken.
He talked about making an
attempt in track and breaking
his ankle in the long jump...
or, was it pole vaulting?
The most serious thing he talked
about for a long time was one of
his mates who died from alcohol
poisoning after a day of drinking
in the hot sun.
If he was asked where he served, he would only say
"in the Pacific". He mentioned being in Hawaii and
having no desire to go back. He enlisted after Pearl Harbor.
One day he showed us a scrapbook he made. The cover is a
piece of scratched plexiglass with some brown stains
near the edge. When I asked him what the stains were,
he said, "Oh, that's blood from the Kamikaze pilot
who hit our ship." He wouldn't say anymore.
Not long ago, I read the book "Flyboys" by
James Bradley. It talks about US forces bombing a
tiny (three miles by five miles) island called
Chichi Jima and eight pilots who crashed there, were
captured, tortured and killed by the Japanese.
This book mentions the USS Randolph as part of the
support forces in the bombing raids on Chichi Jima.
This is where dad's ship was when it was hit.
I lift a beer in memory to a couple of Mr B-Bar buddies from long ago.
Mischief and a good story (or two)…
I think I overdid the ears just a tad…
May 4, 1970…
A reminder from Jean. Sorry I'm late posting this.
In thirteen seconds 4 were dead 9 wounded.
None of the protesters were armed. NONE.
Ed: Keep it mind if you think your government is going to help you out of a jam
I wish I were a tiger…
originally posted by Jean Jan 24, 2012
This big fella looks like I feel.
I want to beat up someone.
Take out my frustrations by inflicting damage.
...and then just calmly saunter away,
never to be heard from again.
bah. I'm in a sucky mood.
the drain that is my brain…
published by Jean May 20, 2010
I have accepted the crapfact that depression
will never leave me alone. It is part of me.
*
damn you old black dog
wearing me out and down like
river rubbed canyon
*
There is nothing to be done about it except
endure. Over and over and over again.
*
tomorrow looks less
than worthy after today's
vain forward struggle
*
Pep-talks from well meaning friends don't help.
*
come along, you say.
you know precisely my need.
arrogant bastard
*
It makes it very difficult to be nice so I often hide.
*
it's worse somewhere else
for many someone elses.
today I don't care.
*
It turns me into someone I don't like at all and I can't help it.
*
do you doubt despair
can twist the heart, wring the soul,
blind all hope? You fool.
*
It sneaks up and every time I ask why.
*
you think you know
the reason, the answer, the
why. until this now.
*
I've read a gazillion books and been to therapy.
*
regurgitation
of all the pretty words ends
in ugly dry heaves
*
Remember the time I went to a shooting range and
enjoyed shooting and did very well? Did anyone
think it strange that I did not buy a gun?
*
it is not so hard
to understand that there are
some who will resign
*
It feels like living in hell and a glorious relief
when it subsides.
*
to wax poetic
do you mind much when I swear?
tough shit if you do.