I FORGOT

It seems that no matter what our age in life may be we are inclined to say, “I Forgot.” We learn early in life to use those choice words to avoid admitting to not doing something we should have done or not being somewhere on time.

I found that during my journey through the valley of divorce I would frequently forget to do something I was supposed to do. I read some important memo and a few minutes later realized I had forgotten what it said. I scattered things around my desk and couldn't find documents I needed. I am thankful for a Secretary who was always able to find my misplaced papers. Occasionally I went into a room to get something and forget what I was looking for. Someone told me about an event or experience, but I did not recall the conversation.

I am certain many of you too have experienced that “blank” feeling. Perhaps you have walked around in a daze, wondering what to do next. As healing continues, we gradually begin to come out of the fog and our minds become clearer.

I joke about forgetting more than I ever knew. As an eighty year old I am finding I don’t remember some of the things I used to know. Fortunately, I can think clearly and enjoy writing humorously about such events in my life.

On Sunday afternoon I wrote the following poem. I believe some of you, regardless of age, will be able to identify with it.

I FORGOT

Sometimes I sit and think about,
The things that I forgot,
The many things I thought I learned,
But now I know them not.

I ponder where they might have gone,
But them I cannot find.
They are disbursed away somewhere,
In clutter of my mind.

The fact I think of what I learned,
Enshrouds me in distress.
For somewhere all the great ideas,
Are hidden in a mess.

The truth to me is very clear,
I know not what I learned,
If I perceived what I was taught,
For it I would not yearn.

Now could it be through all these years,
I lost more than I knew?
If that’s the case tell me dear friend,
Is it the same with you?

The problem that I ponder now,
Within my muddled thought.
How can I even think about,
That which to me is naught?

Don E. Cunningham, Author/Poet ©7/20/08

Ponder the past, live in the present, and move toward the future. Our Lord has blessings yet to give us.

HUGS, IN CHRIST'S AND MY LOVE,

Don E. Cunningham, Author/Poet ©7/22/2008

PREDATORS OF THE POOR

After posting my poem “The Omnipotent Ones,” I received a comment that “Rhyme demands too much tugging and pulling. It is then that free verse wins.” I appreciate her input.

While I enjoy writing poems that rhyme, I occasionally succumb to free verse. I decided to see how my poem would come out if I were to use free verse style.

When I shared it with my writers’ group they agreed that the free verse was stronger and suggested that it needed a new name. Here it is. I agree with my group that the free verse wins. I hope you will decide for yourself which form has more meaning to you.

I know those of you who are experiencing the trauma of divorce, especially when you lose most of what you own, and are faced with economic challenges will identify with portions of this poem.

PREDATORS OF THE POOR

They are the pompous pride filled ones perceiving themselves to be all knowing and all powerful. Unable to see their impotence before God they prance about in their tailored refinery.

Speaking in eloquent tomes before the masses, they present a charade of false accomplishments. Their actions belie their words. Conducting never ending investigations, purporting to seek the truth, they present endless reports, upon which they rarely act.

Concocting up committees, with their corporate cronies, they collude in the darkness of night to gain concurrence from their colleagues to pass corrupt codes.

Concealing their deeds from the sleeping populace under the cloak of darkness.

Their hands are ever ready to receive rich rewards from wealthy demagogues bent on the destruction of the working poor. Ever touting a “trickledown theory” of economy, while in reality they “siphon up” from the masses they purport to serve.

They steal from the coffers of the people to present their offerings to the greedy barons of finance. Rewarding them for their grievous crimes against their fellow man. Bailing them out with billions while neglecting the penniless poor and their plight.

Working class families, whose dream homes have fallen into the hands of merciless investors, now know them as harbingers of harm to the homeless.

Their actions defy our mighty Lord, whose heart is set toward the poor. Their greed is a stench to the nostrils of a Holy God. His arm is bared, his bow is bent.

Soon the souls of these robbers of the innocents, these predators of the poor, shall quake before the omnipotent Lord of righteousness. Their fate lies in the hands of an angry God!

This poem is a free verse representation of my earlier poem titled, “The Omnipotent Ones”. It is based on observations of recent events interpreted in the light of Psalm 73. To understand where the poet is coming from, it is suggested you review this Psalm before reading this poem.

Don E. Cunningham, Author/poet ©7/4/08 474