Take a hike

 Take a hike

Splash in a puddle

Get off your butt

Unclog the muddle 

Get out of your rut.

Cherish the gift

 Cherish the gift

To this day I still smart when I think back to visiting my Uncle and Aunt, anxious to see where they (I anxiously thought), proudly displayed, (the  grand to an eight year old), oil painting of a mountain lion descending down a tree, I had sent them for Christmas. I looked all about and Oh how hurt to find it not over the couch, but hidden behind it. 

I never said anything, but I wanted so badly to rescue my painting.

With MCE

 Liberty with MCE

Bouquet boy was over at MC’s

Admiring his pen and ink virtuosity 

He asked Escher if he could add color

MC said, “only if it’s for your lover!”

Ground to glory

 Ground to Glory

Can the mushroom praise? Are angels manifesting in the blades of grass? As the Master walked past, my blinded eyes opened, and yes, I beheld ten thousand times ten thousand and thousands upon thousands of blades of grass all lifted in praise as the Master walked past.

Desperate times

 Desperate Times

Johnclarestokes 

Twas a time in the sweltering desperate days

rockin’ and swattin’ the quiet yellow flies

Through ant lion mines they made their way

past widows webs to claim their prize.

All lined up in their fastidious rows

the carpenter ants bore their desperate load

tracing back their formic path they go

only to have supper snatched by the toad.

Now the warty toad was not too wise

making all the desperate carpenters go hungry

till they made a pact with the termites despised

Chew a plank and we will not rob your larvae.

The desperate plan began with much joy

Before you knew the porch did fall

Crushing toad, carpenters, widows and boy

Freeing yellow flies to feast on them all!

Take heed before you align with termites

for dirty deeds

And best let the warty toad have a few

Times may be desperate in your greed

But seriously, how many yellow flies do

you need in a Carpenter stew?

Condemnation

 Condemnation 

I tell you

In the resurrection 

Yeats and Emily

Will rise and chide you

For your erasable deafness

To the song of the heavens

The hymn chord that 

Permeated everything

While you dwelt upon

The sound of silence 

You allowed to drown

The eternal refrain.

Work out

 Strong man

Yesterday I pumped

Ten lines that rhymed

Pressed a sonnet 

Above my ability

Pushed a haiku

To the limit

Not bad for an old man

Of sixty nine

I got this!

Things beyond

 Things beyond

Johnclarestokes 

Many a Sabbath we were admonished to set the

affections on the things above

Look away from the things of this world

But we couldn't stop gazing at what we loved

It became obvious as a white flag unfurling.

We did not have to go about wearing scarlet letters

We knew the color of our deepest affections

Down to the very rhyme, symbol and metaphor

A straight on literal view void of tone or inflection. 

Unable to see the flip side of the veil

Deaf to the heavenly refrain of angels

It wasn't a mystery, we could tell

To us it was mere metal, not a holy grail.

The church

 Connoisseur Church

Oh my! I think we found the church

Yeti mugs to all first time visitors

Brazilian Arabica natural coffee

Tenuta dell'Ormellaia communion wine

Tiffany stained glass

The rector has a doctor of divinity

Degree from Harvard

The praise team sounds just like

Pink Floyd 

The theatre seats recline

It's divine

Popcorn and snacks in the lobby are free

No offering passed

The sermonette is short and relevant 

Kids are kept away in the zoo nursery

They love that silver gorilla 

So gentle

Yes, this is the place

Not a trace of things that offend

No crosses ugly

No references to hell

Just the good news

Just as we are

No need to plea

But that some blood

Shed in this sanctuary? 

Not on our Azure Natural Fiber carpet.

Flames of Tabor

 The flames of Tabor

John Clare Stokes 

Beneath a freezing Luna moth moon

The Arsonist was darkly drawn

Drawn yearning for anything burning 

The old wooden right door opening 

Strewn on worn hand hewn planks

Hymn pages beneath empty pews

Blest be he ties and binds the kindling

For flames in December darkness thanking

At Tabor today no Holy flame dwells

Just a deep, deep dry well

Beneath the Oaks on Sundays now gathering

The mice and moth of the lost Congregation.

Santa Fe wedding

 Anniversary

Johnclarestokes 

Was this the day

that Friday the fifth

In the Santa Fe you did wade

Vows made

That day shade

Deadly

We just couldn't see it

Murky at the time

The spell of cool water

Beneath our bare feet

Keeping such future 

Thoughts at bay

Upon that place

The trees continue 

To fall

Those rocks thought 

So hard

Were but clay

Breaking easily

It's not a spot to say vows

Above in the broken limbs

The wind howls

The Owls they flee

Upstream possibly

It goes underground

Should of known it then.

It was on a Friday the 5th in 2010 we stood in the Santa Fe, the same spot the little baby boy took his first boat ride. It too, was eventful, for the sheer pin on the kicker broke. Downstream and too swift to paddle back, I pulled mamma and baby back with the bowline.

Craps man

 Liquidation

Tears at Sears

John Clare Stokes

Once we worked for minimum wage

Plus commission on all we sold

It was a cut throat arrangement 

And the lazy were not at all content

They called me the Weasel

For from the lazy I would steal

Had to maintain those lofty quotas 

Selling those extended warranties 

Then one day it was announced

The lease was not renewing 

Corporate was closing us

So they bought in a liquidation crew

Even paid the homeless to carry

Signs announcing we were through

Paid them more than we ever made

Even on the best month of watching

Roy and Dave bleed from my slashing.

Bills rearranged sign