Friday, November 24, 2017

Poem - Pole Dance

Pole Dance
Chaplain O. Kris Widmer
Idea:   November 22, 2017                  First Distribution: November 23, 2017
For a couple, still loving each other, even after her stroke.

Not all exotic dancers
are found on mirrored stages,
clutching chrome poles
in dark clubs
with thumping music,
clad in fringes and tassels and G-strings.
where lust-filled males applaud,
their only touch of the smooth sweaty flesh
is when they tuck the current currency
that festoons their gyrating hips.

No they aren’t.
You see…

In a lived-in living room
with dark paneling
and furniture from the fifties,
Mabel (not her real name)
a woman in her late eighties
also grabs a pole,
(white with a black rubber grip
installed by her grandson)
with her still strong Right hand.
Her left hangs
limp and lovely, useless at her side.
She lifts her wasting frame
off the wheel chair,
transferring her to the loveseat
where her aged husband-lover,
Jim (not his real name)
awaits her womanly warmth
to rest once again beside him.

She settles down and in.
He reaches to hold her hand,
like he has so many times before.
He feels again the current current of her blood.
Then, his hand moves, to pat her upper thigh.
Besides their daily kisses with dry, pasty lips
This is the only action remaining for them
qualifies as sexual behavior.

Except for her doctors in the past
and her mortician in the future;
he is the only man
who will have ever touched her…there.

With motionless hands,
He applauds her for,
the private pole dance,
performed once again

just for him.

Saturday, October 14, 2017

Poem - The Storytellers

The Storytellers
O. Kris Widmer
Based on Matthew 27:51-53
Fulfillment of a Poetry Game…with Stephanie Haddad. 
Thanks for Writing With Me.

BOLD type are the 18 required phrases for fulfilling this poetry game.

Begun:  October 14, 2017                  Released:  October 14, 2017

The townsfolk rush into the streets,
pushing back against the morning haze of groggy brains
An earthquake?!  Yes it was!
No way to measure the shaking,
“That was a strong one, though!
Here, in our diverse place too!”
Everyone is amazed!

Forever into the future,
the tales of this day will be told;
the commoners will remain haunted by
the grim prospect of sorting out the details
of that unbelievable morning.
More than once, they changed their story

earth?  shaken!
stones?  rolled!
graves? open!
bones?  tossed out!

A zombie apocalypse or apocalyptic zombies?
Which was it?

About a third of everyone who heard them
thought the story tellers were drunk.
Another third thought they were insane.
The final third had heard so many
varying accounts of it, they said
none of it could possibly be true anyway.
“The gov’ment should have done more to stop them!”

The storytellers worked hard
to stay positive amid those
who would deny the truth they had seen.

(Story 1)
“I was walkin’ by the tombs, see!
And the ground starts a shakin’…like this.
(shakes body around violently)
And I sees some bones fly up
out of one of them thar sep-ul-kers.
Then I hears a rattlin’ as dem bones flies together.
Then…I sees sinews tie ‘em all together.
Then I sees muscles and organs appear.
Then it’s all covered by skin and hair.
She’s kind ‘o perty!
Then, perty fabrics covers her up.
Then…she inhales
Then…she exhales.
Then…she coughs.
Then….she opens her left eye.
Then, she opens her right eye, and…
She’s Alive!  Whoa, Baby!
She’s got everything she’ll need during her return
to the land under the sun.

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

(Story 2)
I too was in the Holy Land at the time.
On that same day, at that same time,
I was visiting the tomb of the Baptizer,
buried outside the walls, with the other convicts.
He had been unlucky enough
to donate skull and skin…and the beard of his chin
to Salome, the king’s step-daughter.
The king had promised half his kingdom.
She asked for the upper half of a man – that man.
We knew where his body was…
(everything up to his neck, that is…
His disciples had buried what they were given.)
But no one had any idea what became of his head.

Anyway…Yes…there was that earthquake.
His grave-stone rolled away!
His bones were thrown out!
Sinews, Muscles, Organs, Skin, Hair
…and a head too!
Inhale, Exhale, Cough, Eyes.
He was doing so much more than
responding to basic commands
He’s Alive!  Whoa, Baby!
Whoa, Baptist!
After initially setting out with a stagger,
It took him just three steps to get his balance.
He turned and looked straight at me,
flashed a thumbs-up
then ran towards the city
that contained the dungeon where he died.
Surprise, Herod!

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

(Story 3)
I too felt the earthquake.
We all did.  All Three of us.
I, Salome. (Not that Salome!)
My friend Mary and my other friend Mary.
We were going to anoint His body.
We were walking when we felt that same earthquake.
We got to the tomb in time
to see the stone grind to a halt;
to hear an angel…
Singing?  Shouting? or something like that…
“Awake.  Your Father calls You!”
From out of the dark hole
of deathly darkness…came light;
bright, white light!
He’s alive!
The crucified crests the steps.
He’s alive!
The Rabbi is risen!
Go!   Tell! 
I dropped my perfume bottle and started to run.

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

I think of that morning now nearly every day:
especially when the sky begins to lighten;
especially when the earth moves under my feet;
especially when I see some bright, white light;
especially when I think about angels;
especially whenever music is playing.

Poetry Challenge – October 2017
For Stephanie Haddad
by O. Kris Widmer

Incorporate one phrase from each section into a poem.
You must use the words and punctuation precisely in the order listed here!  You may change capitalizations as you will.

All phrases have been taken from an internet news story about the Las Vegas Mass Shooting. (You need not write about the mass shooting, however.)

First Phrase
1.    opens her left eye
2.    responding to basic commands
3.    about a third
4.    pushing back against
5.    done more to stop - Steph
6.    remain haunted by

Second Phrase
1.    the grim prospect Steph
2.    flashed a thumbs-up
3.    whenever music is playing
4.    everyone is amazed
5.    to donate skull
6.    to stay positive amid Steph

Third Phrase
1.    they changed their story  - Steph
2.    she’ll need during her
3.    after initially setting - Steph
4.    varying accounts of - Steph
5.    her right eye and
6.    three steps to

Phrases Were Used in This Order

1.    pushing back against
2.    everyone is amazed
3.    remain haunted by
4.    the grim prospect
5.    they changed their story
6.    about a third
7.    varying accounts of it
8.    done more to stop
9.    to stay positive amid
10.         opens her left eye
11.         her right eye and
12.         she’ll need during her
13.         to donate skull
14.         responding to basic commands
15.         after initially setting
16.         three steps to
17.         flashed a thumbs-up
18.         whenever music is playing.

Friday, September 01, 2017

Poem - Last Illness

Last Illness

O. Kris Widmer

June 13, 2005  1:50 p.m.

Written during a Two Funeral Week

Someday, I’ll have my last illness.
I’ll be sick for the very last time.
You’ll see a sweet smile.
I’ll be dead just a while.
And then, I’ll be back in my prime.

Someday, I’ll have my last illness.
It won’t be a cold or the flu.
Cancer? Perhaps.
Remission. Relapse.
I’ll slumber; than rise up, brand new!

Someday, I’ll have my last illness.
I’ll catch what just cannot be cured.
Treatment won’t help,
Be it chemo or kelp.
But, I’ve a home up in glory assured.

Someday, I’ll have my last illness.
To my side, you’d better come quick.
Cause you never can tell
If I’ll perish; get well.
Am I terminal or am I just sick?

Someday, I’ll have my last illness.
My health plan will pay the last bills.
But Jesus will save!
I shall rise from my grave.
I’ll be whole, and I’ll say “No more pills!”

Someday, I’ll have my last illness.
It will come, just as I expected.
I’ll just smile and grin.
I’ll have made it.  I WIN!
When dying, I won’t be dejected.

Someday, I’ll have my last illness.
And that day will be O.K. with me.
Just lay me on down
With a smile, not a frown.
For I’m ready for eternity.

Someday, I’ll have my last illness.
Life’s good, but there’s much I won’t miss.
Put some pink on my lips.
Make ‘em pucker, like this. (pucker)
For I’m gonna give Jesus a kiss.

Someday, I’ll have my last illness.
And you know, you never can tell.
Will this time be it?
Should I fight on, or quit?
God knows if I’ll die, or get well.

Someday, I’ll have my last illness.
I’ll die, but then start a new trend.
My grave, it shall open.
(And that’s more than just hopin’.)

Then I’ll gaze in the face of my Friend.

Poem - Pole Dance

Pole Dance Chaplain O. Kris Widmer Idea:    November 22, 2017                   First Distribution: November 23, 2017 For a couple, s...