Our Thanks

Our thanks to God
is simply our part
in the chain of gratitude
that binds our hearts.

This is not a chain that weighs
as a burden would;
It’s a chain of arms and hands
transforming shoulds
to: I do, I am, I give.

Thanks transform.
Thanks cause us to thrive.
Thanks teach us to live,
not merely be alive.

Thanks don’t talk.
Thanks proclaim.
Thanks give credit
and don’t bother with blame.
Lord, please catch us giving thanks
at the beginning
and the ending
of our days.

© Joel Tipple
342

Not Such a Bad Idea?

Imagine our cars
transparent.
Just like Wonder Woman’s jet.
All those anonymous travelers,
those people you haven’t yet met,
were visible and seemingly vulnerable.
Would you act the same?

How about then reducing the speed?
Let’s say 45.
Would we have time to see the country
and more likely stay alive?
Would we miss the animals
that so often get in our way?
I wonder what else we would notice
at that much less hectic pace?

What if we had to stop,
say every five miles?
What if we talked to our fellow travelers,
and passed pleasantries for a while?
I know this all sounds like a fools paradise
and you’ve got places to go.
But if we all slowed down and really looked at each other more,
I believe in some valuable ways we’d grow.

© Joel Tipple
306

Please, can I go too?

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Going to the store?
Yes, I’ll go. Sure, I’ll go.
Please, can I go too?
Anywhere you go, is where I want to be.
I want to go with you.

Lift me up onto your shoulders.
I’m taller than everyone.
Give me your rough hands
to use for reigns;
we’ll ride off toward the sun.

Going to the beach?
Yes, I’ll go. Sure, I’ll go.
Please, can I go too?
Anywhere you go, is where I want to be.
I want to go with you.

Sand is a world of adventure.
We’ll put it in my sandbox.
The ocean gives it up for free.
God knows I like to play.

Anywhere. Anything. Anyhow. Anywho.
Anywhat. Anyone. Anyis. Anydo.
Yes, I’ll go. Sure, I’ll go.
I want to be with you.
I want to go with you.

Yes, you May.

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Even though the first day of May isn’t for a few hours yet, it’s May somewhere. Here’s a poem in honor of the month.

Some folks celebrate May Day, there’s Cinco de Mayo, and don’t forget Mother’s day, but I think we should celebrate the whole month in honor of what its name signifies: permission.

Take a stroll on a sunny, windy day?
You May.
Stay up late before you hit the hay?
You May.
Pluck petulant pansy petals so more will have their way?
You May.
Get deep into Spring cleaning to get ready for Summer days?
You May.
May’s the month with a built in okay for every good thing.
It’s the correct word for misapplied cans. It’s a great time
for early sunning at the beach, be you any age woman or man.
It’s a month for pushing Winter out the door,
and putting Spring flowers to bed.
You might have your own favorite month, it’s true,
but my fave
is that month after April
and right before June
called May.

Food Impostors

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I’ve come to the conclusion
after how many years has it been,
that the stuff I’ve been ingesting
with the very tiny print
and the multi-syllabic words
that read so scientific
might not be so good for me.

Sure there’re pretty pictures on the package
smiling folks living the life,
so I’m led to believe
they must eat a lot of this stuff,
makes ’em feel better than alive.

Farmers replaced by marketers;
what have they caused us to imbibe?
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Do you think they’re concerned with your insides?
Do you really want to be fed by cookie elves?

It’s years of habits I’m breaking,
no mistaking
the work it would be taking
to put good foods together
instead of relying on my buddy
monosodafoodasortaglutsamated.
But no doubt the things I won’t miss
are being tired
and constipated.

Lord knows we can’t predict
when we might go.
He’s the only one who can say when
we’ll reap what we’ve sown.
But out of respect for the vessel
He’s made,
I’m intent on running it better
before it finds the grave.

Please and Carrots

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Would you feed me please
and carrots?
It’s what this little bit of me
most dearly loves.
For other children
see,
it may be macaroni
but tender colorfully
grown fare
are what please me.

Would you feed me please
and carrots?
Just stay away from me
see,
with those doughnuts.
They only make me feel slow,
I’m certain
don’t help me grow,
and surely
worse
I perceive,
than no lunch.