Volume 10              Edition 2          03/15/2007

~A Moment of Thought~
by Ruth Gallant

I think as I sit here tonight
Watching soft snow falling down
I think just how much will come
If I go out will I fall down.
I think it's really pretty
All nice and white and clean
I think about others and wonder
Does winter has to be so mean.
I think about those driving
In snow that blinds the eyes
I think of those out walking
Remember to keep a grip you guys.
I think of those who are homeless
Where will they go to stay warm
I think of all the children
Who can't wait to play outdoors.
I think about the holiday
We are about to celebrate
I think about all the rushing
To get things done and not be late.
I think about my children
Those who are not at home
I think about how much I miss them
Will I really want them to go.
I think about the good times
Of Christmas days long ago
I think about all who will be missing
Those who lie buried beneath the snow.
I think about a small child
Lying in a manger with barely any clothes
I think about the gift He was
The mother and father who loved Him so.
I think about tomorrow
And all that it may bring
I think about all my blessings
Even snow is one I think.
I think that no matter what
Tomorrow will have in store
I think this poem is finished
I can't think anymore. Goodnight!
R.D.G. Dec/16/99
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The CSW Art Show Poem

She has a cyber art gallery
out there, on the internet
I sent my work to her each month
I'd be sure not to forget

I sent her my newest drawings
as I created them, they were all entries
I know one thing for sure
she got a lott'a e mail from me

       and out of the many
monthly shows I was in
  I was very lucky
yes, many times I did win

The CSW Galleries title's of
The Best Of The Show
and The Artists Of The Month
but wouldn't ya know

this year I went and out did myself
and now the tally is in
I AM The CSW Artist Of The Year
YES!  I did win!

Thank you all for voting
for me at The CSW Art Show
Now I won some more web space
and I bet that you already know

that I will be creating and sending CSW
    much more of my GymArt and my Poetry
I am so very freakin' happy
what'a honor she has bestowed on me!

but before I do go back to work
there is one thing I want you to know
that right now there is a new CSW contest
and I think you all should go

to the CSW web site
Please stop by there tonight!
go check out the art and things...
and join, hey you just might

like what you see
thank you all for voting for me
©1999 Jim Nasium

The CSW Art Gallery

The First Time I Ever Read My Poetry

The first time I read my poetry
was back in 83
I had be invited to read
by a woman, a friend to me

She read two of her short poems
just to break the ice
then there was some old man who read
his work was rather nice

Then there was the lady
who I called Ms Wanna Be
I knew when she got done reading,
it was my turn, she was in front of me

As I stood there, with my notebook in hand
I knew this was a freaking mistake
no one here is a real poet, man
they are all so fake

Now it was my turn to read and perform
my poetry for the world to see
before a word came from my mouth
I felt the need to pee

So I stood there for a moment
wishing that I hadn't a drank all that beer
I looked around the whole place
there wasn't a bathroom near

I just looked at the crowd for a moment
took a deep breath and read the first I brought
the crowd listened to me in silence
when done, I thought to myself, all's for naught

Then the urge to release myself
  started to over power me
they all thought it was part of my act
I guess, when I got down on one knee

I started to read my second poem
   the one about my wash
I had to pee so freaking bad
when I moved my bladder felt squashed

By the time I finished reading my third poem
the crowd wanted more from me
 I had to pee so freaking bad,
but they would not let me be

So I started reading another and then
it was almost half past three
all of a sudden I felt something wet
there on my bended knee

The show was to be over
or at least that's what they said
by 2:20 or 30 in the afternoon
but they all stayed, and listed to me instead

The next thing I knew I had done it
it happend with out effort from me
I looked down at the wet spot on my pants
and the puddle round my knee

Now I won't go to read poetry
there's  always someone there I know
I think they want to see a wet spot
cause I usally end up having to go

So, I always say no when I am asked to
go listen to a reading, or read some of my own
I like being able to go potty when I want to
like I can when I am here, at home

 Jim Nasium

Florida Winter Morn

As the sun rises behind the Bay
I look away, across the waterway;
suddenly the buildings reflect pink
as the sun rises over the trees.

A flock of gulls sifts through
what is left behind by low tides,
as pelicans swoop in for landings
upon waters too cold for the fish.

The chill in the air subsides
slowly giving way to the sunlight,
which will soon sparkle softly
upon waves; finally fish will jump.

© copyright S. Barrera '00

This is just something I thought you might like.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the famous 19th-century poet and artist, was once approached by an elderly man. The old   fellow had some sketches and drawings that he wanted   Rossetti to look at and tell him if they were any good, or if they at least showed potential talent. Rossetti looked them over carefully. After the first few, he knew that they were worthless, showing not the least sign of artistic talent. But Rossetti was a kind man, and he told the elderly man as gently as possible that the pictures were without much value and showed little talent. He was sorry, but he could not lie to the man. The visitor was disappointed, but seemed to expect Rossetti's judgment. He then apologized for taking up Rossetti's time, but would he just look at a few more drawings - these done by a young art student? Rossetti looked over the second batch of sketches and immediately became enthusiastic over the talent they revealed. "These," he said, "oh, these are good. This young student has great talent. He should be given every help and encouragement in his career as an artist. He has a great future if he will work hard and stick to it. "Rossetti could see that the old fellow was deeply moved. "Who is this fine young artist?" he asked. "Your son?" "No," said the old man sadly. "It is me - 40 years ago. If only I had heard your praise then! For you see, I got  discouraged and gave up - too soon." 

By Anonymous
From Brian Cavanaugh's The Sower's Seeds

All I Really Wanted To Say

Who is this woman I am talking to
she makes no sense to me
she's not as strong or active
as she used to be
she sits a lot each day now
in her favorite chair
the little things that bothered her
no longer seem to care
she talks when she's not spoken to
to someone I can't see
I wonder who is this woman
can someone please tell me
I no longer know this woman
that's been around me so very long
she was once young and able
and she was beautiful, and strong
she'd tuck me in my bed at night
when it was dark, and late
she would cook me the best food
that I have ever ate
but now when I look at this woman
I find myself getting sad
she is not the same woman
and that makes me mad
this woman is my mother
she's very old you know
and when I look into her eyes
I wonder where did the years go
the years that she held me
the years she sang to me
the years she chased me around the yard
as happy as can be
but now when I talk to her
she don't even know my name
to see my mother like this
is driving me insane
and so I sit and write a poem
a poem that is just for you
all I really want to say mom
is Happy Mothers Day  and I love you
           ©2000 Jim Nasium
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