Sing of Ireland, That Salad Bowl

March 14, 2018

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is St. Patrick’s Day, which is celebrated on March 17^th.

Today’s poem is a poem for St. Patrick’s Day about how Ireland, like the rest of the world, is becoming multi-racial.

I welcome comments on my poems at https://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Sing of Ireland, that salad bowl!

The greens are tossed with bits of yellow and brown.

Perhaps the tossing might make some folks frown,

Although the taste be tangy to the soul.

There is no past for which the bells don't toll,

Regardless how its ways are handed down.

In time its heroes, once of great renown,

Come faded to the fun house of the whole.

Know, then, that the Ireland of old

'Ere long will be what none alive remember,

Save for remnants treasured by a few.

Deep within the heartache that takes hold,

An ancient ecstasy becomes an ember,

Yielding over years to Irelands new.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at https://www.poemsforfree.com/singo5.html. For more poems for St. Patrick’s Day, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/stpatricksdaypoems.html .

This week’s theme: St. Patrick’s Day

March 12: Self Becomes Less Self the More Self-Served

March 13: Seriously, Nothing Would Surprise Me

March 14: Sing of Ireland, That Salad Bowl

Seriously, Nothing Would Surprise Me

March 13, 2018

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is St. Patrick’s Day, which is celebrated on March 17^th.

Today’s poem is a poem for St. Patrick’s Day about the commodification of popular culture through tourism.

I welcome comments on my poems at https://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Seriously, nothing would surprise me.

The land we love is turned into a store,

Prettied up for foreigners, while we

Are salesclerks and waitresses, no more

The warriors of old, the priests of passion,

Royalty of tongue, the banshee dancers.

Instead, we have become the latest fashion,

Cheapened by the sale itself, the prancers

Kindled by a check to do their chore.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at https://www.poemsforfree.com/seriou.html. For more poems for St. Patrick’s Day, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/stpatricksdaypoems.html .

This week’s theme: St. Patrick’s Day

March 12: Self Becomes Less Self the More Self-Served

March 13: Seriously, Nothing Would Surprise Me

Self Becomes Less Self the More Self-Served

March 12, 2018

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is St. Patrick’s Day, which is celebrated on March 17^th.

Today’s poem is a poem for St. Patrick’s Day about the nature of the self.

I welcome comments on my poems at https://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Self becomes less self the more self-served,

As who one is arrives from parts unknown.

Identity is never one's alone,

Nor can one learn unchanged a single word.

Thus the self by nature is a part,

Present in the body of the whole.

A healthy arm or leg is not a goal

That one pursues regardless of the heart.

Remember, then, that one is more or less

In common with the boundaries one draws,

Choosing or not the love that sings and soars,

Knowing or not what brings one happiness.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at https://www.poemsforfree.com/selfbe.html. For more poems for St. Patrick’s Day, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/stpatricksdaypoems.html .

This week’s theme: St. Patrick’s Day

March 12: Self Becomes Less Self the More Self-Served

Birthdays Do Not End with Death

March 11, 2018

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is life after death.

Today’s poem is a birthday poem for a deceased loved one at the gravesite.

I welcome comments on my poems at https://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Birthdays do not end with death,

But last as long as love,

A feeling that remains alive

And grateful grief still moves.

And so we celebrate your day

By visiting your grave,

A place that you have left long since,

But is all that we have.

Dear spirit, come and join us here,

Your loved ones by your stone!

Come sweep across the barrier

To claim us as your own!

Happy birthday, dearest one!

Oh, happy, happy day!

Not even the most bitter night

Can take this joy away!

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at https://www.poemsforfree.com/birthd.html. For more poems about death, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/deathpoems.html .

This week’s theme: Life After Death

March 5: Death Is like a Car

March 6: Death Is Nothing but a Moment’s Rest

March 7: I Think of You as Watching from

March 8: Our Grandson Tyler Was Just Over Seven

March 9: Where Did You Go, My Lovely Ones

March 10: Bobbie Jo Can’t Be with Us

March 11: Birthdays Do Not End with Death

Bobbie Jo Can't Be with Us

March 10, 2018

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is life after death.

Today’s poem is a name poem for a deceased friend on her birthday.

I welcome comments on my poems at https://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Bobbie Jo can't be with us

On this, her special day,

Because, although she fought like hell,

Bobbie could not stay.

If love can reach across the void,

Each of us will let her know

Just how much we treasure still

Our time with Bobbie Jo.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at https://www.poemsforfree.com/bobbij.html. For more poems about death, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/deathpoems.html .

This week’s theme: Life After Death

March 5: Death Is like a Car

March 6: Death Is Nothing but a Moment’s Rest

March 7: I Think of You as Watching from

March 8: Our Grandson Tyler Was Just Over Seven

March 9: Where Did You Go, My Lovely Ones

March 10: Bobbie Jo Can’t Be with Us

Where Did You Go, My Lovely Ones

March 9, 2018

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is life after death.

Today’s poem is from a mother to her children, all of whom died in a fire.

I welcome comments on my poems at https://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Where did you go, my lovely ones?

Where did you go, my babies?

Where did you come from, where did you go,

My gentlemen and ladies?

Where are you now, my lovely ones?

Where are you now, my babies?

I sing to you, but do you hear,

My gentlemen and ladies?

Where can I turn, my lovely ones?

Where can I turn, my babies?

I cannot live, I cannot die,

My gentlemen and ladies.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at https://www.poemsforfree.com/where.html. For more poems about death, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/deathpoems.html .

This week’s theme: Life After Death

March 5: Death Is like a Car

March 6: Death Is Nothing but a Moment’s Rest

March 7: I Think of You as Watching from

March 8: Our Grandson Tyler Was Just Over Seven

March 9: Where Did You Go, My Lovely Ones

Our Grandson Tyler Was Just Over Seven

March 8, 2018

Dear Subscriber:

Each week we examine a theme from a variety of points of view. The theme for this week is life after death.

Today’s poem is about the dead coming back to visit the living.

I welcome comments on my poems at https://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Our grandson Tyler was just over seven

When he died while eating supper in our home.

Two weeks earlier he'd talked of heaven,

And of how after death we're not alone.

His best friend said a prayer when he was buried,

And just as if he'd answered from the dead,

We heard the drone of planes high up, unhurried,

And saw the "missing man" fly overhead.

He left behind his mom and little brother,

Pappy, Emma, Uncle Bubba, too;

And ten months old, his baby cousin Jordan,

Who now does all the things he used to do.

We see him in her smile, her hands, her shoulders;

He quiets her and makes her more serene.

He comes to her at night, and to his brother,

And tells them of the wonders he has seen.

He tells them of a paradise of angels

Filled like a billion suns with love and glory,

And of the many souls arranged on stages

Waiting for the end of history;

And of the recent dead, who can return

To tell their loved ones what death has in store,

Who hang around that little ones might learn

The secrets of "life" on the other shore.

Is all this true? And are the dead still living?

Can our love persuade their souls to stay?

I only know that Tyler is still with us,

Though long since his flesh has passed away.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Hear or watch me recite this poem and listen to the music I chose for it at https://www.poemsforfree.com/ourgra.html. For more poems about death, go to http://www.poemsforfree.com/deathpoems.html .

This week’s theme: Life After Death

March 5: Death Is like a Car

March 6: Death Is Nothing but a Moment’s Rest

March 7: I Think of You as Watching from

March 8: Our Grandson Tyler Was Just Over Seven