than I do writing poetry.
Maybe it's because most of the poetry I read and write make me want to drive off a bridge. And when you have kids, that's not really an option.
Anyway, the other day I ran into an Old Poet Pal. Old as in long-time. 'Cause this guy is definitely not old in spirit:
After hearing an earful of my current issues--no job, no marriage (email me if you've got offers for either),
he sent me a poem for my birthday.
It's a poem that doesn't make me want to drive off a bridge. In fact, it's a poem that inspires me to actually wear a seatbelt.
Thank you, Arnie. It's just what the Midlife Crisis ordered.
I would like to dedicate this poem to another Poet Pal of mine--P.A.U.L. whose birthday was April 5th. Happy Birthday Old Friend and Cheers!
More than a wish
I more than wish you a happy birthday
I envision you happy on this day of days
Not with a dependent happiness
Depending on what’s going on around you
Or even in you
Not a happiness with mood swings
You are a swinger who swings
With joy and dancing
Not a conditional happiness
That has strings attached but
Like the strings tied to helium balloons
You let them go to fly free
Of any thing to be sad about
It is not what you are about
Or what you deserve
You deserve a happiness that is determined
To be happy no matter what
A happiness that refuses to be pushed around
By circumstance or heartbreaks
A happiness that makes the most of what it has
Thereby making way to have more
Because you know you deserve it
A happiness that kicks the ass of sadness
Gets your mind straight
You have more to be glad about then sad about
This happiness is courageous
In its pursuit of itself
This happiness is not shy
It walks right up to that beautiful man or woman
To tell them they are beautiful
Because you know
They need to hear it as much as you do
This happiness is not limited
To any self-imposed limitation
It is a celebration of itself
Within the larger celebration of all
Receive your joy by gift wrapping it
And giving it to others
Get what you wish for
Not by blowing out candles but by lighting them
Being a light for all who can see
And for all who can not
But most of all for yourself
Knowing you can’t be any good to anybody
Until you are first good to you
So go ahead have and eat yourself
A large slice of the cake of life and enjoy
This happiness does not mean you to be
In a constant state of glee
It does not deny grief or sorrow
Nor does it ignore blessings
Affirming life as a whole to be good
This is no sentimental happiness
This is the real thing and you are real
Happy birthday
by Arnie Koester
posted at Humor-Blogs
14 comments:
I think you should get an exterminator in right away. Those mice have gnawed holes all over your stairwell.
They are known to carry diseases, you know.
That was a lovely poem..
Hey, were did the doll heads go? Have they been properly buried?
i know a poem: there once was a girl from nantucket...
This was a great post. Both funny and melodic. beautiful poem
Very nice poem.
Lovely poem, and I love the new step decor, too.
And yes, you deserve all those things in the poem.
Huge hugs.
I like this guy. It is very difficult in this world not to depend on something outside of yourself for happiness and being good to myself is something that I have really taken to heart.
What a sweet and uplifting poem. I'm glad it made you reach for that seat-belt. :)
Ah, the trick to find non-angst poetry... not easy when one reflects back to college and poetry class and the joy of angst. :)
I know that Nantucket one! Damn, am I cultured!
Glad it gave you a lift - all the best.
I like your stairs better than the baby head
I read a poem once that inspired me to wear my seat belt too. It went like this:
Click It or Tick It
Now that's a happiness I think I can relate to.
Also, speaking of your stairs, I came across these sneakers the other day and thought of you.
Awesome poem!
P.S. Award over at my blog!
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