Poetry is easy to write especially if it is ordinary or bad.

Good Poetry is a bit tricky.

Great Poetry says not only what you think but explains why you think it: in very few words. Billy Collins does that beautifully. I am not one of few words. Sometimes I wish ......here is a poem by one of my favorite new poets: Alison Luterman from The Largest Possible Life

The Truth

I love the truth the way I love picking blackberries,
even as I'm scratched and burned and stung,
I love the tartness between my teeth and tongue,
feeling how old truths hung too long on a bramble go soft
and cobwebby,
and truth picked too soon is full of acid.

It's what I love about writing, when I love writing.
How now and then, throught the thicket of metaphor
you get a cool sweet berry of truth.
And even when what I want to hear is,

I will love you forever,
Your search has ended,
You are the best! AND
You will be young and beautiful FOREVER!

The truth remains a sharp, nourishing comfort,
like these two old drunks, one black, one white, strolling
arm in arm
up the street, commiserating:
"And I tell you I had all them childrens!"
"Yep. That's how it was."
"Alla them childrens!"

I love how it hides itself like that,
between two plain green leaves,
and how much of it there is, like love,
yet never finished, never enough.

Some people think today is a bad omen due to the three sixes in the date. Maybe, it is a good omen. Maybe, it means the day the devil dies not the day he presents himself. he is always around anyway. WE do not need symbols to see him; we need open eyes.

Maybe tomorrow will really be a day to celebrate when the abdomen of the world releases it's long deep held breath.

Tomorrow I will be married 20 years. It isn't so surprising since I've known my husband 2/3 of my life. We are like frick and frack, Tom and Jerry, Laurel and Hardy, Lucy and Ricky, and Vi and Bob and Marie and Pee Wee. You cannot know one without the other. 20 years sounds like a long time but each day feels young and right no matter how much we get on each other's nerves (I have one or two nerve wracking habits). What is astonishing is that I asked for something and got it. One of those times when I stepped in time with the planets or God. And then I was given proof time and time again: four kids that are like stars on a school project; mine covering half of the front page, my happiness, the lump on my throat when I bury myself in my husband's arms, the knowledge this will never end, the way four arms embrace our friends and family throughout the years. Lots of things have changed and we've been through many experiences but one thing remains the same our love, our marriage, and our life.

If we really wanted to, could we change the theme of our life?

It seems to be that most of us follow the same theme throughout our lives. The one factor or event that follows us forever that tilts our perception, affects our decisions, leads us.

We could win the lottery or loose a foot but we'd probably react and live with the same pattern. The paths of our life are carved into the soil of the world; the dips and bows, the curves and turns. We were given a certain set of genetics and also a certain set of game pieces that represent the way we think, the way we do things, and how much control we have over all of it.

It starts with our built in, God given character....stuff we are either praised for or in trouble for all of our lives. We all know something about ourselves that is unique that has been commented on by parents, teacher, employers, spouses, and friends. We either walk around on a beam every now and then or hunch over and grin and bear the problems. We can control and manipulate lots of aspects of our behavior but these character traits keep popping up like those plastic gofers in the game "wack-a-mole". Character traits are things about us that just happen, we have little to do with it. If you don't believe me, try to change it and you will see as soon as your not looking it will pop right back into your life or your day or your every passing hour.

The reason I am writing about this is because I find it intriguing that we all have a certain theme that runs through our lives that follows us from very young to very old. It is like we are programmed. We probably have accepted it by now or rationalize it or even relish in it or we try to escape it by drugs, or alcohol or food or shopping or gambling or criminal behavior. Hopefully, if we marry, we learn to be compatible with our spouses theme. In this regard we really need to be more accepting and less controlling and we'd probably be able to have less divorces. Problem is, it takes a long time to realize our own themes let alone those of which we share our lives. Cultural, religious and familial tendencies are added to the theme to make it all the more interesting.

It is a bit more involved than upbringing and environmental influences.

I was thinking about how our actions and choices really do make a big difference in the whole rest of our lives; not just the big choices like marriage, children, and where we choose to live most of our lives but the little decisions are just as powerful as they wiggle under our skin like head lice. Who we decide to spend the summer of our 18th year with will re-occur in our minds and conversations forevermore. How much partying we did at proms or wedding or funerals will stay with us forever. Our interactions with family members, boyfriends and girlfriends, our kids, our travels, our education, our jobs. It is like experience is the reason why we gain weight as we age...we carry it all in layers.

Some of us panic and want out of what we are in...we say STOP, NO MORE. We can sever ties like marriage vows and even parenting responsibilities or job responsibilities or businesses or other relationships but it never really goes away. Our minds fold it over like a soiled napkin to reveal a cleaner part but the used areas are there; just hidden.

We all have good and bad we've been through. It's there in our napkins. Some of it we can put behind us, some of us can even make a flower out of the napkin we have in our hand, some keep shaking it about to rid it of the soil, the marks, the unmovable experiences.

I think it is not only important to learn a lesson each day and then MOVE ON but also to accept and do the best we can with what we have and then also to realize our theme and maybe accept it or succumb to it..because we can never change it.

1. When I go food shopping I MUST eat something on the way home..Wed night I had one Greek cigar (rice filled grape leaves in lemony dressing) and a few tortilla chips.

2. When I see someone reading a book I must investigate to see what it is exactly. At times, I even interrupt to give my opinion as if this person has been waiting for me to arrive with such comments.

3. I cannot help but give advice. I am so annoying. I know.

4. I love when I walk in my house and it smells of the food I am cooking/cooked.

5. All my pansies died from the absurd heat we had this week. I feel so sorry for them.

6. It completely baffles me to see GROWN ADULTS toss trash out their car windows or on the street. COMPLETELY BAFFLES ME..this goes for cigarette butts too. I wonder if those individuals worry and complain about global warming?

WE were just discussing someone we know that does not believe in Religion or God. I do not know this individual well. I know he is young, handsome, successful, travels the world, is educated,seems wealthy and most probably intelligent.

I think some people just prefer the skin of the pudding. Their spoon is smooth and glides across the top expertly. This skin is so soft yet has a bit of a bite. Excitement? If left alone, the pudding will form another skin and you can enjoy it all over again. But what about the pudding? Deep down in the middle or even the bottom. Creamy, smooth, lovely. If you always look for the skin, you'll never enjoy the creaminess and really that is the best part.

Some never want to think about the pudding, the real stuff, the divine.

The STUFF that had the power to allow us, allow what we have and what we do not have, and the power to maybe take it all away. That is too much for some people to believe. To contemplate this is to be expected of, to be conscious and to be worried at times. Some of us do not like to worry. So they dismiss it. But does it go away? I am suddenly scared for this person.

I do not have a problem with people having different beliefs than me. It would be absurd if we all agreed..how weird???? I can see you believe in Buddha and I believe in Jesus. I can see you think angels are imaginary and I do not. I can even believe you are still waiting for the son of God to appear and he may even be a son born to you or someone you know. I cannot understand that you believe in Nothing. I cannot understand you have no thoughts of anything besides yourself, your life, and science. ...how weird???

But then again, you probably never saw anyone die. If you did, you didn't see enough people die. I do not mean to imply I have been a witness to war or famine or epidemic disease or natural disasters. I am a nurse and have cared for many dying patients. I have been at the sides of many men and women (thankfully not children) that have crossed from life to death. I do not think at that time most of these individuals as I have witnessed decided to pretend or fabricate conversations, sights and stories.

Physically no matter how sick the individual is or how dead they look while their heart insists on continuing to tick, once it ceases, they not only still but something leaves them. You can almost see it float away and yet, it lingers. I have cried hysterically for people I have not known at all. The crying had nothing to do with sorrow but with fear. It had nothing to do with loneliness but the realization we are so NOT ALONE. It is something I know. It is not something I believe due to faith. It is something I felt. It is proof.

I have seen individuals speak to family member's previously passed. I have seen them see angels and try to touch them. I have seen them smile when a moment ago their pain was unbearable, enabling them to think or dream or wish.

I have felt my grandmother's hand squeeze mine just about an hour before she died. She was in bed, lying with her eyes closed and basically unresponsive. Of course, I was extremely sad. Her hand was not her weak, sick, ALS inflicted hand but the hand she held me with, scratched my arm with as we watched Elvis Presley movies, kneaded dough for my pasta with, and tucked me into bed with; it was her real hand. That squeeze was an "I am fine" squeeze. I knew she was telling me she'd be O.K. I just knew it. She readily told me while she was ill that she was ready to die. Why was God waiting? What was all this for? She was almost 90. She had enough, not only of this sudden, debilitating illness that made her so totally dependent after a full life of total independence but of life. She was done. She had lots of gifts and love and now she was ready. So I know the squeeze was not one of fear or apprehensiveness or loneliness. It was of excitement and complete contentment. I left her side and went to work. She died within the next hour. I have that squeeze to console me for leaving, to help me know, it was O.K.

So, how can I understand someone who believes in Nothing? I cannot.