October 2, 2009
My Weekend Visitor
Laughing, clapping hands
Happy squealing squeaky shrill
Granddaughter at play
Copyright © 2008 by Jake Olden Shy
April 14, 2009
Mother’s Day
Remembering the day
He broke your gold vase
You’d warned him, “be careful”
To give it some space
And yet he ignored you
Continued to play
The vase now in pieces
What price will he pay?
But her anger reserved
For the one that she loves
Condemning with kindness
Forgivness the dove
A mother’s eyes
Are a shield of compassion
Her softer spirit
As strong as a bastion
With kinder words
And tender touch
She’s allaying the pain
Her love is the crutch
Now, his heart is protected
In two loving hands
With a hug and a kiss
She’ll erase life’s demands
As he picks up the pieces
Of his mom’s broken treasure
She’s smiling warmly
They glue it together
Copyright © 2000 by Jake Olden Shy
March 21, 2009
Father’s Day
You are strength when I am weakness
A guide when I am lost
My vision through the bleakness
O’er troubled waters crossed
Separated by great distance
You were always there
Your love was my subsistence
An answer to my prayer
Your footsteps have I followed
On a path yet all my own
Hard lessons have I swallowed
Your support was set in stone
I cannot begin to thank you
I am all I ever want to be
Nothing more need I live up to
If my dad is proud of me
Copyright © 2000 by Jake Olden Shy
January 24, 2009
Home Again
Home for the holidays
Quiet mountain felicity
And snow on Christmas Eve
A family gathers
Three generations
And the rest
One absent and one taken
A bittersweet element
Stirs the sacred mixture
Leaving a sour taste
To fresh fruit pies
And hot chocolate
Shared smiles and laughter
Children make the memory
An unforgettable pleasantry
Copyright © 2000 by Jake Olden Shy
January 23, 2009
The Meeting Place
1
Home
from the office
and throwing
children’s clothes
into a bag
Into the car
again
On the road
again
Traveling
to the familiar
intersection
(the meeting place)
Salutations
and hugs
for the weekend
mother
2
Sunlight
shines through the window
and lights
the face ushering
him out of bed
Shuffling feet
into the kitchen
to peel apart
coffee filters
and draw water
for coffee
A newspaper
awaits in brisk
winter air
A lonely table
set for breakfast
Opening the paper
He sips his coffee
3
Returning
to the meeting place
The children wait
Arriving
the take-home father
greeted with hugs
places the bag
in the car
Children bid
farewell
to the weekend
mother
Cars drive off
in opposite directions
Copyright © 1999 by Jake Olden Shy
July 13, 2008
The Stand
In Djakovica Yugoslavia
Death their hate ignites
Ascending on suburbia
The demon strike as kraits
Serbian police even the score
Move methodically place to place
A terrified man opens a door
Takes a bullet in the face
Gunfire shatters glass next door
Neighbors soon to die
The screaming pain one can’t ignore
The children wail and cry
Upon the next store police descend
The Xhosa family hide
A small Serb woman to defend
Her frightened friends inside
Pounding fists and crowbar creak
They break into the store
Not a sound the Xhosa’s speak
As Branka moves to the door
The Xhosa family stand aghast
The door now opened wide
The soldiers’ hatred in contrast
By this woman they’re defied
A fragile hand in crushing grasp
A muzzle to her head
Through clenched teeth, an angered rasp
Her life held by a thread
A soldier screams, “You don’t belong here!”
But she would not let them pass
As Branka held on to her fear
The soldiers left en masse
The door hangs on a single hinge
The slam they couldn’t miss
The feme exclaims, her voice a challenge
“Who will pay for this?!”
They simply didn’t know what to make
Of this gap-tooth guardian angel
Her resolution would not break
Their killing heart she strangled
Now, fighting done, a brand new day
The sound of receding combat
The question the Albanians pray
“How do we forgive all that?”
Copyright © 1999 by Jake Olden Shy
Note: This poem is the true story of a old, frail Serbian woman who stood alone against soldiers in their march toward Albanian genocide.
July 12, 2008
Mother
Society’s plague
Life’s usurper
Jury tried
Convicted, murder
Shackles cinched
A lonely place
One last look
Finding grace
Forgiveness given, looks within
Strength to calm his fear
Seeing beyond inherent evil
A mother sheds a tear
Copyright© 1998 by Jake Olden Shy
