Wednesday, December 29, 2010

The Year In Review 2010

Thank God our year is just about done, a lot of hardship and sadness and not much fun. But we are a hardy bunch and a fearless lot and this recession has taken its last and final shot. A wave of Reds in the House, and in the Senates a lot fewer Blues. Better at least for this year a President whose consensus skills finally grew. To each of you may your resolutions be sound and avance the cause of inner peace and may your efforts not quickly cease. And for the nation may Red into Blue be a purple blend; such that all of this partisanship comes to an end.


The Year in Review 2010

The year in review has become an almost sacred, annual rite
As much as an ageless Dick Clark counts down the seconds on a cold Times Square night
Photos and print by the score of the births, deaths and events
With the pundits and pollsters telling us all what they all meant
In terms of images 2010 was a banner year
From the Tarp billions that left us deep in arrears
To the BP spill spewing oil in torrents that would never end
To a World Cup into watching frenzy billions would send
To the misery count that seemed to run a full speed
Haitian earthquakes Pakistani floods, homeless and starving we tried to fill their needs
To the back room deals that enabled Obamacare to past
While millions outraged searching for paint and feather vowed it would not last
To the foreclosure never ending tidal wave
As GM rose up from its grave
Not since the release of the Pentagon tapes was so much laundry laid bare
As Wikileaks to the world our secrets did quickly share
We are almost out of the combat in Iraq
But failed to put the Iranian genie back in its sack
Like all years the Reaper was busy and the Catcher was caught
Haig’s attempts to stay in charge went for naught
Francis’s jockeys could no longer avoid their fate
Nielsen’s Airplane would not save him at the gate
After all these years, Horne’s golden voice was still
And the Byrd no longer roosts near Capitol Hill
John Wooden coached his last hoop through the net
With his Harley chopped Hopper glides into the fading sunset
Even with a thousand voices yelling “I’m Curtis” into the sky
Reaper fooled not; Tony it’s your time to be a thespian to the big Guy.
Maybe the muse should have followed in Yahoo's picks
Only those mentioned who received the most clicks
My list could go on but an old man is bumbling across the stage
The cries of an infant ready to start opening the new page
Hopefully in the New Year leaders who are more tolerant and sage
With a lot more purple and a lot less finger pointing rage.

(c) December 29, 2010
Michael P. Ridley aka The AlaskanPoet

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Olive Crest Christmas

Olive Crest is a great charity assisting abused and at risk children in Orange County California. Recently I was fortunate enough to attend a Christmas fund raiser for the faciility complete with a toy drive, admission and door prizes. Even in the depths of the recession, the event was well attended and a goodly amount of dollars raised. What follows is a poem I wrote on the event. Hope you enjoy it.

Olive Crest Christmas

Our wallets have survived Black Friday and Cyber Monday’s test,
But the season’s parties move forward without pause or any rest
The Christmas list seems to grow longer and time is running out
Tranquility is fading as the credit card balances begin to sprout
It seems we are judged by the number and expense of given gifts,
If our list is neither long nor worthy, our egos slowly drift.
As we race from mall to mall in deepening shopper rut
The most precious gift to give--our time and love is the first to be pared or cut
True, we do not have to cross moor and mountain and our choice is more than three
In the end, no matter the stress, something very soothing with packages beneath a tree
The malls are crowding, the parking spaces rare, and too many are somewhat rude
When we seek the Peace of the Season, the ads surround and always try to intrude
Here is a peaceful thought to soothe from an Alaskan bard
As one races off to the next function to greet and pass out cards,
In a 24/7 world we need to justify the admission cost
And the time from iPad and cell phone forever lost.
But here at this fundraiser for so little you can find the proverbial two birds
And for a couple of precious hours, escape the aimless shopping herd
To meet again old friends for memories to renew
To marvel and be thankful for how enduring friendships grew.
With a smile on one’s face, cleansed by a tranquil wave
Know that on this night some Peace you will most likely save
But what takes the cake and why this night wins hands down
It so easy--links back two thousand years to that thorny crown
We may not fill, but a child will not have to open a barren chest.
We should be honored to have the chance this night to help those at Olive Crest.

(c) Michael P. Ridley a/k/a the Alaskan Poet
December 6, 2010
A very Merry Christmas to all.

Christmas 2010

Today is the shortest day of the year; symbolically the forces of darkness and evil hold court in full regalia for the last time as the Earth once again begins its tilt to the Sun and light and hope. Light banned by the shadows now comes back in a surging force to chase away the gloom of night. It may be fitting that Christmas is so close to the Winter Solstice and the beacon of the gift of Peace leading us out of the darkness. For a poet this is a special time of images and emotions and hope. May each of you have a most Merry Christmas with loved ones and family and may the gift of Peace be easy to find and cherish today and in the coming days and years.
test day of the year; symbolically the forces of darkness and evil hold court in f

Christmas 2010
We must be a rugged and hearty rebounding lot
Trying to avoid the gifting frenzy and not get caught
In the decorations in the stores from the eve of Halloween
To most media ads now being a sea of red and green
To the frenzy of Black Friday kicking off at 12:01
Hard to believe another Christmas season has again begun
Cyber Monday in hyper click just two days behind
Just need an app to escape the malls surging grind
The pull upon our wallets, we have slowly grown to expect
The impulse to use a card is so hard to keep in check
The online malls beckon-- just point and click
The world is a cart with so many choices to pick
Ever mindful of the greetings to be politically correct
Sherpas in the malls with heavy bags we trek
The lines become longer, the selection dims
Then in a flash a purchase of the expensive whim
The lists get longer and the time gets short
Slight joys to see the children waiting to visit Santa’s Court
The muses are scratching with worry their heads
Will we scrap the 12 days to sing of 12 months instead?
A simpler time and life is just not meant to be,
But the answer is not to get a bigger tree
Nor the credit card limit seek to raise
Seek the gift always in vogue, always in praise
Give the gift of peace and the gift of love and self
No matter how hard to find on any shopping shelf
Serenity projects calm, serenity projects peace
Giving self is so valued in our short term lease
Whether it is to forego the 24/7 lines
And with loved ones share more time
Or extend a helping hand and volunteer
Others are not so fortunate in this recession year
Never forget love makes the world go round and round
If it stops, our spec is just a globe of barren, fallow ground
The mind can live without the latest Nook or body without the latest dress
But the soul and heart often lost in the gifting blizzard need the Peace caress
This Christmas may Peace and Goodwill graft deep into your heart
Lasting gifts not found in malls or in any online e-commerce mart.

(c) Michael P. Ridley a/k/a the Alaskan Poet
December 21, 2010
http://alaskanpoet.blogspot.com
ull regalia for the last time as the Earth once again begins its tilt to the Sun and light and hope. It may be fitting that Christmas is so close to the Winter Solstice and the beacon of the gift of Peace leading us out of the darkness. For a poet this is a special time of images and emotions and hope. May each of you have a most Merry Christmas with loved ones and family and may the gift of Peace be easy to find and cherish today and in the coming days and years.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Elizabeth Edwards RIP

The news today 12/08/2010 included the death of Elizabeth Edwards from a rampaging, virulent breast cancer. Here death was expected but not within the hours from the announcements yesterday of her condition. Death of a parent when children are still young is never a pretty sight and one can only pray for comfort for the children. Elizabeth did not roll up and await the boatman; she lived her life to the fullest while enduring the pain of an unfaithful husband who sired a child while they were still married (thank God we as a country were spared the pain as he failed in his quest for the Democratic nomination to run as Presdident in 2,000. A mother to the end and the reports of her death prompted this poem.

Elizabethan Painter
We are all born with a clean slate and plenty of paint
And brushes bold and brushes fine or faint
The scenes varied, vibrant but never cast in concrete
Victories painted today may be repainted as defeats
Scenes of virtue or scenes we paint to delete
The joys of marriage stolen by a cheat
The mural of life painted could be all we leave
Memories on a mental canvas as mourners come to grieve
There are many roles we can choose to play
Many paths to choose and how to weigh
But one choice that for all does not exist
No matter what we do, no matter how we resist
What final role to play as a brave woman in great pain
Stroking boldly to keep her emotions in reign
It is to be the role of mother to the very end
Look out for the children until the boatman comes to send
“If you believe you will never die
Raise your hand, raise it high”
She knew their hands had tons of weight
No way to escape our common fate
Today, the cans have been drained of paint
When the mural dries, images of strokes of saint
Even with death coming in a hyper rush
Right to the end she never dropped her brush
Hopefully her ex still has some drops of paint of better fiber and hue
To paint over the poor choices made that he must surely rue.
(c) Michael P. Ridley December 8, 2010