Saturday, November 12, 2016

Sunday Mini-Challenge ~~ a poem, Life's Ups and Downs

Life's Ups and Downs;
when will stabbleness come?

Life has its ups, life has its downs 
We all like the ups, hate the downs 
Chances you were born into down 
Poor parents eking their living 

Where was your silver spoon that day
Olden days, you're more likely down
Down where you rode in a rusting 
Ford Model A's rear window shelf

Roof leaking, water pouring in 
Floor boards were rotting, smoking car
Had rice and beans or bread, breakfast 
Mom's cheese was making on back porch 

Your doctor's bills hadn't been paid
Drove to Grandma's on Mondays 
Mom would wash, you'd schmooze with Grandma
Then home, clean sheets for side porch bed 

One room school beckoned you. Recite
Recite ABC's from long bench 
Listen, eighth graders Poe recite 
Soon you'll know "Pit and Pendulum" 

By high school things might be better 
Mom was working, Dad's promotion 
Store bought clothes, am I now the King
Make the football team, break a leg

Seemed to be a down but then not 
The kids would autograph your cast 
A hero for days, Sally wrote 
Then she moved away.  Save your cast

Sweet Sal left, didn't go away 
Every night I dreamed of Sally 
(Facebook, where were you hiding then?)
I never did see her again 

to be continued, more to come 
(Might fill a couple of volumes
things got settled, time, older, up)

- - - -

Photo and Poem copyright, © 2016 Jimmiehov, All rights reserved

I am linked with Brendan MacOdrum at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Sunday Mini-Challenge: Still Points --
_ _ _ _

This poem has given me peace, not because of it's words, but that the time that I memorized it in grade school was a very peaceful time in my life:

Abou Ben Adhem

By Leigh Hunt 1784–1859 Leigh Hunt 
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:—
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
"What writest thou?"—The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow men."
The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blest,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

Labels: , , , ,


At Sunday, November 13, 2016 12:23:00 AM, Blogger Gillena Cox said...

The "facebook " line made me 😁 giggle

Much love...

At Sunday, November 13, 2016 12:34:00 AM, Blogger Margaret said...

The beginning has the comfort of youth (may have been poor, but family rich) and the end has the angst of the teenage years :)

At Sunday, November 13, 2016 2:09:00 AM, Blogger Kerry O'Connor said...

Mom would wash, you'd schmooze with Grandma
Then home, clean sheets for side porch bed

One room school beckoned you.

There is something comforting in the homely images.

At Sunday, November 13, 2016 3:18:00 AM, Blogger Sanaa Rizvi said...

I smiled at the reference to facebook :D beautifully penned.

At Sunday, November 13, 2016 10:17:00 AM, Blogger brudberg said...

And still I think there's a veneer of nostalgia here... it was probably a lot harder... maybe still is, despite Facebook

At Sunday, November 13, 2016 3:39:00 PM, Blogger Sherry Blue Sky said...

I loved the memories in this poem........times were simpler then. Looking forward to the continuation.

At Wednesday, November 16, 2016 12:04:00 PM, Blogger Susie Clevenger said...

I grew up poor, slept on a couch for 14 years. This brings a lot of memories for me.


Post a Comment

<< Home