Wednesday, January 04, 2017

La Petite Grande

—Poems by Donald R. Anderson, Stockton, CA
(—Anonymous Photos)

LOVE POEM FOR NIKKI (10/13/2016)

I love the clearness of your eyes
when we're looking at each other
stretched out on blankets
like long lost travellers,
lost in time, lost in the breath of the fresh
breezes on our sun baking skin,
on the warm beach in Alameda.

I love the way you think
that a minute and a half
on the microwave
is 1:50

I love the way you work so hard
and fight so hard for our way of life
defending quality, defending frugality,
defending our passion with a fiery heart
that I ache to hold at the end of the day

I love the interests you have
in oceanic things, mermaids and sea sailboats,
lighthouses and coasts,
all which have such majestic beauty,
a shared aching draw in the creations
of that water from which God drew us from,
with the breath of the air, the spirit, and more.
From the trees that live and speak in sea sighs!
A peace of mind from the churches we visit,
a peace within and without from the places
yet still shaped more by God than by man.

I love the day to day by your side,
the seeing you, sleeping side by side,
the sharing meals, sharing movies, sharing laughs,
sharing words, conversations with family,
a mutual experience of life, in every flavor, every facet.
The helping each other in any opportunity that arrives.

I love you more and more deeply each day, each breath.
To count the breaths we have shared,
to count the heartbeats we have had in the same places,
in the same world, in the same house, on the same paths,
to count the times we have thought of each other
over the years since we've met,
to add them up into some magnificent ocean of granules of sand,
or of stars in the sky!
To know that God had it all in mind in His plan,
and to trust that He will know why it goes as it does.
To be so in love,
is to know true bliss: contentment in the deepmost part within.


Why spend on that which does not satisfy?
Free will and free speech are a given,
Those of good will do that which
gives what chances we had for our happiness
to those we love.
Nothing but an act of faith,
a gift to choose,
to learn what one can only learn
from years of mistakes
searching for meaning
in a world without dreams
years of experiencing
cannot be captured
in a mere million words
in a mere thousand images.
Love, is a universal language.
So is faith, but is at a deeper level often not reached
until one learns meanings
learns trust
learns who one is
learns the why's and what's
and looks at this limitless universe
realizing that the order to it is beyond understanding
and that the joy we find
is simple, pure, and comes from
within, and from the mistakes
that cause inevitable suffering
and which drive us to faith
to hope
to appreciation
to letting go of the world's problems for
something higher to love us unconditional
like none of us human beings can fully attain,
to know that the only way to reconcile
with the tragedies of life
is to give it over to a mysterious plan
which avoids worse tragedies and has
benefits greater than the losses.
The lives we have
seen as valuable
because we are stewards of our lifetimes here
and are never fully lost.


You sneak up on me
like the subtle glance
angel's wing puffing a breath of warm air in the night.
The wind howls rainy.
I look through the frosted glass,
and you sleep so beautiful I want to cry.
The joy is overbrimming my eyes.
The oceans of our memories,
the feelings so complete,
so perfectly fulfilled that dream,
that I simply cannot imagine
a life without you anymore.

The Christmas tree lights glow
like stars so close and so captured,
like my heart in your hand, my body wrapped in yours.
The moments we touch
like heavenly cries to losing ourselves
to the feeling.
You have filled me with feeling.
With passion.
My dreams are lucid reminders of what already has come to pass.
I cannot love you more than I do
and yet somehow the unimaginable keeps happening.
You grow in me,
a bit of la vie,
life in that mystery of not knowing but so much more than anything known.
The sounds of the night whisper your name.
The smell of your skin.
I love you forever, I want to keep saying.
I am a boiling pot of tea.
I flow into you.
I am one with you,
yearning to be even closer than one.
La Petite Grande.
The little infinity.


You reminded me in my quiet hours.
So you spoke in the gentle shade, 

in the walks through hushed city streets in mid-day,

sun illuminating a praying mantis on the sidewalk, 

one of several sightings when I had requested a sign.
You brought one of them right up to me, 

and one right to our front door.

I was led, decision by decision, 

to pontificate upon significance of order in the universe, 

meaning to life, and the meaning of love.
God, you brought me to my wife, 

my kindest, most noble treasure, in your plan.

You knew before I was born

that I would pray for her, 

to fill that gap, when the time was right, 

when all was lost, when I needed her, 

when it would be most appreciated 

and when it would work out into paradise.
You present us with amazing gifts, 

wrapped in intriguing layers of understanding, patience, 

virtues of a rainbow of qualities that you know

will make our lives ever the sweeter, in spite of the pains, 

so that we grow more and more appreciative of your gifts, 

those transient, transitional loans from you, 

of which we are not worthy but by your Word are bestowed upon us,

those loving presents that make everything ever valuable and meaningful.
Thank you.


Growth comes from the struggle,
keep your head up,
do not lose confidence
in times of trouble,
do not lose your dreams,
they direct your course,
do not lose your attention,
that sense of wonder and care,
it will pull you back out of the holes sooner.

I know you are human,
and I know I am human,
and I know they are human I am.

The Lord is my light,
do what I may I need something
to get me through,
maybe you will too.

Growth comes from the mistakes,
keep your chin up,
don't lose that self esteem,
no even in the times in between,
don't lose hold of that life meaning,
they keep you going with new steam,
don't lose your focus on the moment,
that sensitivity, that purposefully being there,
it will pull you up when that cross is too big to bear.

I know I'm human,
you are human too.
And I know we are all human,
it means we get to start again.

Times will get better,
and we will start again.

Times will get better,
and we will start again.


Our thanks to Donald Anderson for today’s poems! Donald R. Anderson has been an editor, a book designer, a computer technician, a librarian, a used bookstore assistant manager, and a writer-hobbyist. He has been published in over a dozen small publications locally and helped coordinate group projects such as poetry art anthologies, including Sun Shadow Mountain and Moon Mist Valley. He lives in Stockton and is married to Nikki Quismondo Anderson.

And thanks also to Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) for the fine LittleNip posted below. What a nice New Year’s present for the cranky Medusa and her long-suffering SnakePals!


Today’s LittleNip:

—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

Blessing our drought torn valley
With its delicate wings of rain
The newspaper came wrapped
Emptied cans at the curb

Medusa’s Kitchen warmed by
The insightful bird’s eye view
Of Joyce Odam’s joyful poetry
Taking us away from day to day

Giving sincere purpose to
Small things oft overlooked
Silencing the thunder of
Pay to play media propaganda

Minimizing for a moment those
Power thirsty pure white men
Sipping the slipping tectonic plates
To undermine false promises

What will happen to our Earth
With all our hopes and dreams when
One grumpy, old man on Viagra takes
Millions of finely tuned grand pianos

And roughly shoves them over
Niagara Falls…because he can?
We will still have our poetry
Simmering in the Kitchen.



 Don on a Southern California Beach, Once Upon at Time

Photos in this column can be enlarged by clicking on them once,
then click on the X in the top right corner to come back
to Medusa.