June 14: "Young Webster," Love Stories, "Friday Night Lights Near Summer Solstice"

Billy Collins tells a love story . . .

Young Webster

by: Billy Collins

After he spied her

in a garden

holding a parasol,

he defined love as

"something of

or pertaining to me."

Some love stories have happy endings, and some don't.

Love is not easy.  Oh, sure, falling in love may be simple.  You glimpse a person who makes your heart flutter and knees turn to jelly.  After that, the hard work begins.

I've been married almost 29 years, and I can emphatically say that I still love my wife deeply.  But the last three decades have not all been one long honeymoon.  There have been major struggles.

True love is messy.  Ugly even at times.  I'm sitting on my couch right now, listening to my wife sleep.  Reflecting on how much shit we've gone through together and put each other through--times of tremendous joy and tremendous despair.

Yet, our love has endured and grown stronger.  We have two great kids as proof.  And a really cute puppy.

Saint Marty is feeling blessed this June evening, a little less than a week before summer solstice.

Friday Night Lights Before Summer Solstice

by: Martin Achatz

The moon and stars still

haven't shone up for the game.

May 16: Ready for a Nap, Shel Silverstein, "Hey Nelly Nelly"

It has been a long day.  Really long.  I still have miles to go before I sleep.  Miles to go . . . Well, you get the idea.

I am ready for a nap.  I spent about four hours this afternoon working on the online class that I start teaching next week.  Got my syllabus done, sat back, and thought, "Holy shit, this is going to be a lot of work!"  My life for the next month-and-a-half.

I am not complaining.  I am fairly educated.  A published poet.  A father of two great kids.  Husband to a pretty great lady.  Healthy.  Employed. 

Saint Marty has to remind himself every once in a while that his life is pretty good, compared to other people.

Hey Nelly Nelly

by:  Shel Silverstein

Hey Nelly Nelly, come to the window
Hey Nelly Nelly look at what I see
He's riding into town on a sway back mule
Got a tall black hat and he looks like a fool
He sure is talkin' like he's been to school
And it's 1853

Hey Nelly Nelly, listen what he's sayin'
Hey Nelly Nelly, he says it's gettin' late
And he says them black folks should all be free
To walk around the same as you and me
He's talkin' 'bout a thing he calls democracy
And it's 1858

Hey Nelly Nelly hear the band a playing
Hey Nelly Nelly, hand me down my gun
'Cause the men are cheerin' and the boys are too

They're all puttin' on their coats of blue
I can't sit around here and talk to you
'Cause it's 1861

Hey Nelly Nelly, Come to the window
Hey Nelly Nelly, I've come back alive
My coat of blue is stained with red
And the man in the tall black hat is dead
We sure will remember all the things he said
In 1865

Hey Nelly Nelly, come to the window
Hey Nelly Nelly, look at what I see
I see white folks and colored walkin' side by side
They're walkin' in a column that's a century wide
It's still a long and a hard and a bloody ride
In 1963