Monday, March 02, 2020

Pushing the Season


Late winter’s call has a bone chilling voice,
Ignore at your peril its warnings dire!
Fashion may call for a warm weather choice,
But you’ll get frostbite in summer attire.
Skies look inviting when dressed in bright blue.
Sunshine makes everything look so nice.
Remember a fact that is also true:
Blue is a color of freshwater ice.
Spring will arrive, and will melt hearts and snow.
Summer will come in its appointed time -- 
Time to wear warm weather cape and chapeau.
Why get them covered in road salt and rime?
Keep that inelegant drip from your nose:
Wear your appropriate winter-weight clothes.

Mick McKellar
March 2020

I see it every year. Folks wear shorts and winter parkas, or walk to school in a hoodie
at 25℉, pushing the season to wear more fashionable clothes. 

Mick

Sunday, February 23, 2020

Manipulator

In a well-lived life, we will bark our shins,
Stub our big toes, and jam the little ones.
We’ll collect misunderstandings and sins,
Even grow angry and laugh at bad puns.
Because we have such emotional range,
The world can make us both happy and sad.
Emotions allow us to dance with change,
And learn to adapt to news -- good or bad.
Beware the wily manipulator,
The monster, who feeds on your hate and fear
With paranoid dreams, an agitator
Who'll steal all your freedoms, all you hold dear.
Just living’s a painful enough prologue,
We don’t need the help of a demagogue!

Mick McKellar
February 2020


We cause enough emotional damage just living our lives. As we grow and mature, we manage to heal and get along -- most of the time. Along comes a manipulator, one with a talent for fanning fear and hatred into unthinking frenzy. Fear is the mind killer and the captor of souls. Beware! Stop and take stock of your blessings. Clear your mind, and maybe you can see the manipulation.

Mick

Friday, February 21, 2020

Palette

A man once lived in a world of red,
From crimson shoes to red hair on his head.
He ate tomatoes, sliced very fine,
And drank only semi-dry, dark-red wine.

One day, on the border with the world of blue,
A cerulean maiden was tying her shoe.
Her azure dress caught his roving eye,
For it matched the color of her world's sky.

His bloodshot eyes met hers -- deep blue...
And in that instant, they both knew
They'd struggle to find a secret place,
For their purple passion's fond embrace.

But there wasn't any place to hide;
So they straddled the border, half on each side.
Their romance glowed with rainbow hues,
And soon they shared some gladsome news.

They loudly called to all with grins,
"We're pregnant, with a set of twins!"
Their offspring were a startling sight:
For one was black and one was white...

Each day they searched again, anew,
For harmony in spite of hue,
And lived a lesson for me and you:
They're family - black, red, white, and blue.

Mick McKellar
February 2020


I found this poem, unfinished, from March 2008. I liked its message and finished it this morning.

Mick

Thursday, February 20, 2020

What I Learned from Harry Potter

I learned that master storytellers still
Exist, and share the magic of their tales;
That simple stories, told with passion, will
Prove that imagination still prevails
Against the darkness of our modern age --
A separation by technology,
From wonders shared upon the printed page,
From truths captured in words for all to see;
That riches based on privilege and gold,
Are mirrored shadows shining brilliantly,
But truest riches can't be bought or sold --
A precious gift from friends and family;
That no one can survive alone, apart,
And magic's true source is the human heart.

Mick McKellar
April 2008


I discovered this poem buried on an old thumb drive, probably written in the wee hours of the morning and forgotten the next day. It seems somehow appropriate now. We need some magic.

Mick

Saturday, February 15, 2020

Me That Used to Be

Though I still grieve for me that used to be,
The me I am is prone to give me pause,
To stand apart, to see what I can see:
Am I "cause célèbre" or Santa Claus?
My memories have mirrors full of smoke;
My mental movies flicker and demur.
A dagger of the mind I can't uncloak:
The life I used to live has grown obscure.
Don't get me wrong, I love that I still live,
That I still have a story to be told,
That I still have a gift or two to give.
The me I am is something to behold!
I love that I'm still here and I am me,
Yet, still I grieve for me that used to be.

Mick McKellar
February 2020


Although I still struggle and fight to remain alive and adapt to my new life, I suppose it's just human nature to still grieve a little for the way I used to be.

Mick

Monday, February 03, 2020

Subtle Wind

I sometimes wonder what I’d hear,
If the hissing wind stopped blowing.
If voices whispering in my ear,
Went silent -- silently going.

What would the sound of no sound be?
Like darkness in the blackest night?
Or is it soft, dark, real to me,
Like blackest earth in deep twilight?

Just once in church’s nave to pray,
And sense the angels listening,
While multicolored light of day,
Reveals my eyes are glistening.

To offer love and silent prayer,
In plaintive voice of mind and soul,
And hear their passage through the air,
As upward they soar toward their goal.

And then, to quiet heart and mind,
Let stillness bring peace and accord;
To listen for the subtle wind,
The silent whisper of the Lord.
Mick McKellar
February 2020

I’ve never known the sound of silence because of the windless wind in my ears.

Mick

Saturday, January 04, 2020

Protest

Between the super-massive cacophonies
And Earth-shattering upheavals ,
Lies the momentary peace
When the world takes a breath,
To begin the next cycle.

I want to be the tiny whisper
On the silent wind
During that pregnant pause.
I want to ask:
Why?
How?
At what cost?
Is it truth? Is is right?
"What about me...is there room for me in your new world?"

I want to laugh at the ridiculous.
I want to cry with the victims.
I want to sing the songs of change,
And recite the poetry of remembrance.
I want to write words that encourage those
Blinded by hate, goaded by fear, and misled by liars and charlatans--
To open their eyes and really look at what is happening around them
And to them.
I want to question power and scoff at riches,
Searching for what humanity remains beneath.

Physically, I am not imposing.
Mentally, I am not a giant.
My heart has seen darkness and did not die.
I have traveled to death's door and returned.
I have something to say.

Mick McKellar
January 2020