Poem: Migraine

Migraine

 I wake up in the morning
In my head there is a pain
And I know it is a migraine
It hurts like pouring rain

I take two aspirin
Drink a glass of water too
Hoping the pain will go away
Feels like I was hit in the head with a shoe

Now the hurt is so intense
And the throbbing never ends
A bright light and any noise bother me
I feel I am paying for my sins

I wake up in the morning
The pain is gone
Where it went I don’t know
But off away it runs

I hate it when it comes back
To visit again with me
I hate when it comes back
Wish it would sail out to sea.

Copyright © 2008 by Jimmie A. Kepler

Poem: The Holidays Have Come and Gone

The Holidays Have Come and Gone

Malls full of people
Shopping now
Going their own way
Credit cards in hand

Malls full of people
Crowds that never end
Blank stares on faces
In lines they stand

Malls full of people
Some young some old
Walk store to store
Christmas bonus in hand

Malls full of people
Outside north winds blow
Back in the mall
Some dressed for snow

Malls full of people
Babies in strollers fast asleep
And their mothers
With latte in hand text on the phone

Malls full of people
Sounds of tired children crying
Echo across the land
And choirs sing carols on demand

Malls full of people
Not always so
Long time ago on Main Street downtown
Streets full of people throughout the land

Main streets full of people
But now they’re gone
Times are changing
And the holidays have come and gone

Copyright © 2010 by Jimmie A. Kepler

Originally published: Kepler, Jimmie A. “The Holidays Have Come and Gone,” Poetry & Prose Magazine, December 2010. Volume 1, Issue 3, Moonchild Designs, page 18-19.

 

Poem: Armistice Day

Armistice Day

On November eleven
As all of us knows
We signed an armistice
With all of our foes
And threw off our gas masks
We laid down our gun
And buried our hatchet
Along with the Hun

Now eight years have passed
Since that glorious day
When we signed that armistice
That ended the fray
And thousands of boys
Emerged from the strife
To come home a cripple
For the rest of his life

And thousands of others
Are over there still
Who never came home
And of course never will
They followed old glory
To a faraway shore
And to the loved ones at home
They returned never more

Althou’ we won glory
Across the big pond
We owe our respects
To our comrades that’s gone
And we’ll pause from our labor
Our tribute to pay
To our fallen companions
On Armistice Day

Written by Thomas Aaron Kepler in 1926
Copyright © Estate of Thomas Kepler
The poem was written by my grandfather, Thomas Aaron Kepler. It is one of several I have that he wrote and published.  He was a resident of Jamestown, Ohio. He passed away before I was born.  His poetry and writing are the only way I have had to know him.

Poem: The Love Me Wall

The Love Me Wall

In your house
There’s a special place
Devoted just to you
It’s a wall
Your love me wall
Your love me wall

On that wall
Are awards and things
And when you see them
They make you sing
Your love me wall
Your love me wall

This one says they think you’re cool
That one says you finished school
It’s your degree for all to see
It pronounces you’re proud of me
Your love me wall
Your love me wall

The workplace plaque says you’re great
Just looking at it makes your spouse faint
And feel like throwing-up too
Because you are so full of you
Your love me wall
Your love me wall

No one loves you like you do
Neither your spouse nor your mother too
Will ever be in love with you
Like you love you
Your love me wall
You love your love me wall

© 2010 by Jimmie A. Kepler

In February 2010 I attend the University of Texas at Arlington Military Science Department and Cadet Corps Alumni Chapter Hall of Honor Induction Ceremony.  One of the inductees was recently selected for promotion from Colonel to Brigadier General. He used the phrase “My love me wall” referring to all the awards he has won over the past 30 years, the way he prominently displays them in his home office, and how his wife dislikes the wall because he is so proud of his accomplishments.  He said with getting inducted into the Hall of honor she will probably want to remodel the room.  I got to thinking about all the offices I have been in where men and women have their accomplishments nailed to the wall for all to see.  It leads to me writing this little poem about it.

Review: Scandalon

From time to time I will share reviews of books by authors I personally know.  “Scandalon: Running From Shame and Finding God’s Scandalous Love” is written by Susan Elaine Jenkins.  I have read and recommend the book.  I  will have an interview with her in the days ahead and it will be posted.

Have you thought what it would like to get to know, work with the people in China, and live with them? Have you wondered what it would be like to grow up in a minister’s family? Susan Elaine Jenkins paints an insightful and sobering picture that answers these questions in her very skilful memoir, “Scandalon: Running From Shame and Finding God’s Scandalous Love.“

As I read the book her narrative format had me feeling like I was sitting in a recliner with a cup of coffee and she was sitting across the room telling me her story of how not just one, but a series of scandals hit her life. Some of events were self-inflicted. Other events were of someone else’s making. I found a bit of myself and my struggles as I read her story. Her writing and story were so interesting I didn’t want to put the book down! Yet, I feared I would read it too fast. I love the way her personality permeates the book.

In 1980, after three years of teaching in the USA in a private school (and saving her money) Susan made a trip to China. It was part of a gift she gave herself – a trip around the world. It was a prelude. In 1997 Susan accepted a two-year teaching position in Tianjin, China. She would stay in China.

Susan employs a wonderful method of telling of her adventures in China with reflections on what took place in her earlier life in the USA. The transition between the USA story and the China story is via a short statement of spiritual truth or insight. It is these earlier events in the USA that lead to her seeking refuge half way around the world. We see God’s handiwork in her life. We see her improving her language skills, her understanding of the Chinese culture, and how her American culture sometimes exasperated her Chinese friends, especially Ouyang. We reflect back on her life adventure that includes how she was used and mistreated by those in positions of authority over her and learned he had previously mistreated others. We also see how she survived!

Susan stories range from hilarious to tear inducing. I have two favorites. First, the story about her being invited back stage in Hawaii to meet Don Ho. Her parents encourage her to go. Don Ho wanted to do more than meet her. I could feel the confusion she felt from her parents encouraging her into such a situation. I wanted to take her dad aside and say you are supposed to protect your daughter! Second is the story at the Friendship Store of the two broken vases and how Susan came to the rescue of the Chinese couple. She demanded they not have to pay for the broken vase since she didn’t have to pay for one she broke a week earlier. We learn how the Chinese have two sets of rules – one for foreigners and one for other Chinese. I could feel the compassion and empathy Susan has for others.

The book is a good read and would be a valuable addition to all community and church libraries. It would also be a good study book for women’s group and even for counseling. It gives a realistic insight into the struggles we all face. The book gives answers about Chinese culture, running and finding God and finding one’s self.

Written by Jimmie A. Kepler

Poem: Elope

Elope

A car slowly drives down the highway
The driver’s vision impaired by blissful tears
A white frame house sits near the road’s bend
Then he thinks of her father and fears

I love you said her letter
I’m packed and ready to elope
And her perfumed, lilac stationery
Gives him courage, filling his senses with hope

He hides his car around the bend
The moon is beaming, lighting the night
He walks the quarter mile to her house
And waits by the kitchen door with fright

He’d asked for her hand and been told no
When asked why not he almost got shot
She now hates her father
They had to flee because passion was too hot

He loves his lady dearly
She’s eighteen and they’re running away
He and his ladylove will marry
Without her daddy’s blessing later today

With craftiness she slips out the back door
Her late mother’s old cardboard suitcase in hand
A shadow she sees through the moonlight
She stops and wonders, is it dad or her loving man?

From the upstairs window her father is watching
As the couple embrace, then move to the car
Dad remembers running off to marry her mother
As the moon sets, the sky fills with stars

A car slowly drives down the highway
The newlyweds laugh, both full of joy
In the rearview mirror, a white frame house gets smaller
And in nine months she’ll birth a bouncing baby boy.

© Jimmie A. Kepler
June 17, 2011

Poem: Back to those … care free days

Back to those … care free days

I’ve traveled back in time
But only in my mind
Back to the time
When I was young
When I use to have fun
Back to those … care free days

And I think about the times
When our love was young
There were few bills to pay
We were living for the day
And sex was still fun
And we were born to run
Back to those … care free days

But the past doesn’t last
And time moves too fast
And the years go zooming by
And life’s hurts make us cry
And the bills we have to pay
Not much time left for play
And the kids up and grow
But they never seem to go
And work it never ends
We need money to live and spend

I wish we could go back to those care free days
When I asked if you could come out to play
And  we explored life and grew up too
It was fun to go to the zoo
And the circus came to town
How we laughed at the clowns
And we held hands and walked at the park
You had to be home before dark
And your dreams they came true
And some of mine did too

And our moms we still try to please
Allergies cause us to sneeze
And our kids have made us proud
And our kids have let us down
Like we did to our parents back in the day
When they didn’t want us to play

I still see your bright, big smile
And remember when we were sorta wild
And you had no fear
Because I was always here
And you would light up my life
You even became my wife

And I’ve traveled back in time
But only in my mind
Back to the time
When we were young
When we had fun
Back to those … care free days

Copyright © 2003
Jimmie A. Kepler
The Colony, Texas

Review: I, Me, Mine

“I, Me, Mine” by George Harrison was an extremely challenging read. The book was at times boring, has poor structure, and lacked direction. You can feel George Harrison’s dry wit and humor in the pages of the book with the key word being dry.

Don’t expect to learn a lot about Harrison. The book lacks the tell all element that many want.

Harrison was obsessed with Krishna. He says in the text that he promoted his personal religious beliefs through his songs. He felt it critical to share his faith. Does that make him an evangelical Hare Krishna?

George does not describe much of his relationships with the other Beatles. Including the handwritten lyrics is a great bonus. This is a definite must-have for admirers of the Harrison. If you can find the book at the half-price book store or even you local library and love the Beatles and George, enjoy.

Poem: Ode to 1965 to 1974

Ode to 1965 to 1974

She dreamed of changing the world.
Went roller skating on Friday night.
Desperately wanted a boyfriend
And friends who cared
That always treated you right.
Saturday nights double-dating
At the drive-in movie theater.
Sunday mornings in church
And attending Sunday school.
Then come Monday morning
Back at school not knowing you were cool.

Growing up so fast
You were as pretty as could be
Yet never realizing
You were the one
All the girls wanted to be
When boys got their driver’s license
They had their day dreams about you

They played their guitars
On weekends and after school.
To have you as their first lover
Many boys would dream
After the drive-in movie
There was pizza or ice cream.
President Nixon made no more sense to us
Than had LBJ
We all hoped the war would end
And the draft would go away
Our political commentators
Were Tom and Dick Smoothers
And Dan Rowan and Dick Martin, too
Somewhere we grew up
And turned into “the man”
Our dreams were gone away
No longer was there a plan
There’s still time to regain the passion
We had back in our youth
So many still ask,
“What is truth?”

© 2011 by Jimmie A. Kepler

Review: Clapton: The Autobiography

Biographies are a passion for me. I approach each with an open mind ready to hear the writer’s story. My interest in music, love of rock and roll, and respect for great guitar musicianship lead me to read Eric Clapton’s autobiography.

Sex, booze, drugs and rock and roll fill the celebrated guitarist’s autobiography. As he retraces his career, from the early stints with the Yardbirds, Cream, and Derek and The Dominoes to his solo successes, Clapton also devotes great detail to his drug and alcohol addictions.

You get the back-story of his life as you learn he was raised by his grandparents. You learn that his mother was 15 when she became pregnant with him and that his father was a Canadian soldier. He struggles all his life with his background.

A major influence/obsession in his life was Pattie Boyd (former wife of Beatle George Harrison). His relationship with the Boyd for whom he wrote Layla culminated in a turbulent marriage. He spends great detail on their relationship as well as other female relationships.

I enjoyed reading about how he taught himself to play the guitar. I learned that he never learned to read music. He describes his playing style as a variation of the folk music claw-hammer style. He says he uses the top two strings of his guitar for the bass line, the middle two strings for rhythm, and the bottom two strings for playing lead guitar. He shares how he selected his guitars. We learn how the gauge of the strings and the distance between fret and neck influenced his ability to play.

You get the story of his son Connor, his accidental death, and the song Tears in Heaven.We learn of the impact of the death of Stevie Ray Vaughn on his life.

Clapton warms to the subject of his recovery, stressing its spiritual elements and how he started the Crossroads Clinic in Antigua. He eagerly discusses the fund-raising efforts for his Crossroads clinic and the Crossroads Guitar/Music Festivals he used to raise money for the clinics. Sharing this personal journey into addiction and recovery is therapeutic for him.

His reflecting is filled with humility, particularly in the form of unhappiness with his early successes. He professes ambivalence about the famous Clapton is God graffiti, although he admits he was grateful for the recognition from fans. At times, he sounds more like landed nobility than a rock star. He shares about his collection of contemporary art, enthusiastically defending his hunting and fishing as leisure activities, and extolling the qualities of his quiet country living. But both the youthful excesses and the current calm state are narrated with a charming tone that pushes Clapton’s story ahead of other rock and roll memoirs. This is a well written book that is worth the purchase price and time you invest in reading.