Me and my collateral,
most of the definitions but behind.
She bewitched me with loving intentions,
and an aromatic spikenard fine.
I cannot see her faults,
nor
do I believe they exist.
And if I’m the victim of a blinding fog,
persist mist, persist.
© Joel Tipple
304
I don’t always know what to say.
Sometimes the
words
just sort of
fall out.
Sometimes
I don’t know what
I really think
until
I write it.
And yet
for a long time
I resisted
exercising my voice
and vision.
I’ve given up
wasting energy
fighting it.
And
that’s a good thing.
© Joel Tipple
303
John Q. Person, have you considered
what it means to be a man,
since the time someone told you
you were one?
Have you just been placing
one foot after the other,
but without a genuine plan, son?
I can tell you a man isn’t passive.
He refuses to trust to luck.
He knows the size of the heart in a man
isn’t measured by the size of his truck.
He knows the best leaders are followers too.
He knows about God’s reward.
He has an almost desperate desire
to find genuine ways to serve.
He knows each man has a talent
unique and given by God.
He strives to find and develop his own gifts
while not chasing after laud.
He never stops learning.
He values laughter
and tears.
He remains forever grateful
and cherishes every year.
© Joel Tipple
302
Bound for Adam’s path
From Jesus redemption sound
Destiny course change
© Joel Tipple
301
Taking into account a couple of times when I’ve reblogged someone else’s post on “Write here, Joel” in addition to my own for that day, today marks blog number 300. The official beginning was Jan. 1, but I already had a few things written so I had something of a running start. The daily blogs will continue through the end of December. I have an idea of what will happen at that point, but you’ll have to wait until then to see just what that something will be.
I promised at the beginning that I was going to experiment a lot. True to my word, I’ve tried all sorts of stuff. All kinds of poetry, short stories, jokes, social commentary, devotions. I’ve been all over the place. While we bloggers have access to, and probably watch too closely, the myriad of statistics about what we’re doing, I’ve tried not to be a slave to the numbers. By now I have an idea of what will do well and what won’t. However, I try not to let that drive what goes into this blog. This has been a learning experience and you can’t learn by always playing it safe.
I’ll say it again, but I want to say thank you now to everyone who has taken the time to read and comment. I never take for granted the opportunity to express myself in print and the spoken word. My overriding desire is that God is glorified through my expression in words. Towards that end, some exciting things are brewing that I’ve prayed about for some time. Thanks be to God for grace and for truth, always.
Joel
© Joel Tipple
300
Hey Harrison, how would you like to come over and sign my cast?
Your cast? What happened, Marti? Did you break something?
Nah, I’m doing experimental theater and everyone agreed to let a stranger write on them. You game?
Sounds pretty weird, but I guess it’s okay.
Cool! Hey, have you ever used a tattoo gun?
© Joel Tipple
299
Judy sang about where I fly
in that famous song about Oz.
That I’m called the harbinger of happiness
causes me to pause.
But my friend here cares so well for me, I’ve no reason to roam.
As you can see by my carefree grin, there’s really no place like Gnome.
© Joel Tipple
298
Two ballerinas
caught in a pirouette,
one leg down, on which they balance,
the other…
Okay, I know there are a lot of feet up in the air,
but you’ve got to imagine there are only two legs for each dancer.
Otherwise how can we compare these fuchsia flowers to dancers?
Just go with it, okay?
Thank you for your support.
© Joel Tipple
297
You overlook the garden
and the porch handrail.
Together with your ravens,
off on a sail.
Though I’ve never seen a page turn
or heard a sound from your birds,
I thought for sure you glanced up once,
just at the moment I turned.
You three sail the world
with your concrete tome.
Though as anyone can see
you’d find it difficult to roam.
I take those journeys also,
but I’m jealous of your commitment.
But then perhaps you are jealous of me,
living my life not cemented.
© Joel Tipple
296
Hello, my name is Cactus. I’ve lived here for some time.
A little girl planted me with her papa.
The next line doesn’t rhyme. (Oh, it does)
I live under a bush they call Rosemary.
They almost forgot I was here.
But then, Rosemary got a good trimming,
maybe too good, I fear.
The norm is they take a little,
but this time they took a lot,
and here I was just waiting,
with my mouth open wide in a gawp.
Like I said, behind me is Rosemary,
her front open wide like a cave.
But I’ll guard her from interlopers,
with my spikey mouth and arms splayed.
© Joel Tipple
295
Write here, Joel. 