pretending that things matter

PRETENDING THAT THINGS MATTER Daily Poems from October 2012

Kenneth A O’Shaughnessy

Text & Illustrations copyright © 2012


Bad Bad Boy Publications

501 Agewood Drive Simpsonville, SC 29680

[email protected]

All Rights Reserved

This month’s book is dedicated to my father Ross.

He has been gone ten years this month.

Seems like yesterday and forever ago.

May his memory be eternal,

Even though he began to remember so late.

Table of Contents

Contents two october, two-thousand twelve

three october, two-thousand twelve

four october, two-thousand twelve

five october, two-thousand twelve

eight october, two-thousand twelve

nine october, two-thousand twelve

ten october, two-thousand twelve

eleven october, two-thousand twelve

twelve october, two-thousand twelve

thirteen october, two-thousand twelve

fourteen october, two-thousand twelve

fifteen october, two-thousand twelve

sixteen october, two-thousand twelve

seventeen october, two-thousand twelve

eighteen october, two-thousand twelve

nineteen october, two-thousand twelve

twenty october, two-thousand twelve

twenty-one october, two-thousand twelve

twenty-two october, two-thousand twelve

twenty-three october, two-thousand twelve

twenty-four october, two-thousand twelve

twenty-five october, two-thousand twelve

twenty-six october, two-thousand twelve

twenty-seven october, two-thousand twelve

twenty-eight october, two-thousand twelve

twenty-nine october, two-thousand twelve

thirty october, two-thousand twelve

thirty-one october, two-thousand twelve

afterword

two october, two-thousand twelve

Torn nets cast aside beside the

Shoals of seeking to be caught fish

Until breakfast of fish and living bread

Has been completed.

Each disciple keeps his thoughts

Ruminating in silent contemplation.

Simon is singled out for conversation.

Oh Simon, do you love Me?

Do you love Me? Do you love Me?

Vexed, Peter says Lord you know all things

And you know I do. Feed my sheep

Even as you have seen Me do, Christ says.

You mind that business and follow Me.

three october, two-thousand twelve

How long does it take

Pretending that things matter

Before it is true?

~Dawn O'Shaughnessy Harvey

Depends on the thing

If it matters, it matters

If not, it doesn't.

~Kenneth Alan O'Shaughnessy

But does it matter

If it matters, or does it

Really matter not?

~Dawn O'Shaughnessy Harvey

The only thing that

matters in this life of ours

is the eternal.

~Kenneth Alan O'Shaughnessy

So what matters then

Is the immaterial

So matter's nothing?

four october, two-thousand twelve

How does it feel when it’s raining inside

The constant drip drip drip of tears

Down the inside of your ribs

To the rocky acid pool below

Don’t stand underneath your heart

That’s where lightning strikes twice

#

All I want is to

Look at you every minute.

Don’t that sound creepy?

#

My desk is messy

But at least it is scented

Of cinnamon tea

***

~DMH

As long as it is

Only the smell of the tea

And not spilled on stuff.

***

I refuse to lie

There are droppings of the tea

Among other things…

five october, two-thousand twelve

If you think that the haiku is tough

Try the limerick - now that one is rough

It always has to rhyme

And have the right time

Or it really is not good enough

#

peek ot redro nI

mrof esenapaJ ni ukiaH

?desrever eb ti dluohS

#

I think the question

What does it really matter?

Means, Do I matter?

The same thing goes for

What difference does it make?

It’s about oneself.

~DMH

Everyone should know

That they do matter to God

Because He made them.

eight october, two-thousand twelve

In Fourteen-Hundred Ninety-Two

Columbus sailed the ocean blue

And painted the new land in red

With native people he made dead

Not because his heart was cold

But for his favorite color - gold

And we've kept his legacy keen

By chasing after the color green

nine october, two-thousand twelve for Simchat Torah

A cycle complete A cycle begun

As the last chapter is read, then back to chapter one

Each take a turn, and turn in the dance

The Word is present and all have the chance

To read and become wedded to the Law

Until He comes at the blessed Pascha

ten october, two-thousand twelve

Look at the sky, you tell me

There's a blush of red and star-spots

A darkened cloud drapes around

It's so peaceful and beautiful

I see exactly what you describe

But I can only look at your face

#

~Ken O’

I have not written

An haiku in sev’ral days

Now I can’t say that

~Dawn O’Shaughnessy Harvey

I have not either

I guess that I have just been

A bit too busy.

~Ken O’

On the other hand

Writing two in the same day

Should count for something…

~Michelle Clipner

A talent like this -

With idioms wry and droll -

You must cultivate.

~David Galloway

Activate Haiku!

Its rhythm pulsating like

A clock’s tick tick tock.

~Douglas Earl Grover

It is not difficult.

For someone like me.

To mess this up real bad.

eleven october, two-thousand twelve

Although we use them all the time

Names are often forgotten

Yet we associate them with people

As though they were body parts, or

Like they are containers for

Our whole persons, in and out

Unless we've taken on another name

In some moment of self-definition -

Surnames notwithstanding -

Each one's name was gifted by another

Does this gift define who we will be

As our genes and culture do

Very likely not, as we tend to forget

Intimate details about ourselves

So our names become nominal

#

Philip the Deacon

Presented the Gospel by

Breaking barriers

#

Irish Saint Kenneth

Apostle of Ireland

Pray to God for me

twelve october, two-thousand twelve

Using acronyms To spark a poem is like Lyrics to music # Peter James and Spot Jumped around somewhat And Spot RUFFED making the Squirrels run mightily Roaring monsters three Marched trailing little puppy Til little pup joyously Licked pals just arduously

thirteen october, two-thousand twelve

Rather late in life he came to understand Other people mattered, even family Some might say it was too late, he'd lost Some would say better late than never All I know is, he is missed by some Rather his later family than his first That's because he was there for them He taught me some valuable lessons Unbeknownst to him - example only - Remember, don't be like your father

fourteen october, two-thousand twelve

Pain is nature’s way

Of making us remember

That we are alive

fifteen october, two-thousand twelve

Do unto others - we like that idea

And don't we want just measures?

And yet - Don't judge, because you

Will be measured with the same

Measurement you apply.

The resolution is this:

Measure yourself out in doing

And the measure taken of you

Will be how far you have

Extended yourself, and your

Measure of the other will be

How far you have been able to

Extend. Beyond that, extend mercy.

#

What dishappens? you when are

organized Things offall inten. the

Wrong places to And can what do

Aprob boutlem that you?

Clean out and

Do with less.

#

Peer around the edges

At a new and unseen land

Terraformed with mounts of

Rippling gray matter

Intelligent creations

Covering the landscape

Kaleidoscopic skies

Dance with movements of

All manner of machines

Very likely if you look again

In twenty years or so

Some of these will still be there

#

With apologies to Dr Suess,

Who would have made a fine president.

If I ran the US of A

This here is what I'd do:

I'd make lots of windy speeches

- Without a teleprompter, too.

I'd criss-cross-criss the country

In my jets, both One and Two

And make policies that make Anti-

Environmentalists turn blue.

I'd appoint Supreme Court justices

That know a thing or two

About the laws of countries -

Maybe even our country, too.

I'd only take all the credit

Where any credit at all was due

And I'd only take credit -

The blame is all for you.

I'd make lots of people like me lots

Although there'd always be that few

Who would hate me for no good reason

'Cept what I say and what I do.

I'd protect until the death (not mine)

The rights for which you try to sue.

It would not be you (my constituents)

But the volunteers I'd screw.

So if I ran the USA

I'd run it all for you,

And retire with my pockets lined

And bid you all adieu.

sixteen october, two-thousand twelve

Again it happened to me, it was it and not I

Doing that thing I hate, with which I identify

Did I choose to? Maybe once, maybe once again

I thought more of the pleasure than I did the pain

Conscience is nothing compared to the call

That moves every cell past the edge to my fall

If I had it all to do over again, I would choose the -

Oh, who am I kidding, I absolutely would be

Nothing different. I can't. That thing is me

#

Productivity

Usually means that my

Blood pressure is high

seventeen october, two-thousand twelve

Time is the shortest distance between two points

Essentially it's shorter to go forth than to go back

Since you can never go back: it's forth or stuck

Still, this is a matter of perception, because

Each of us tends to point in our own direction

Really, though, there is only one point, or points

As everything can be summed up in the crux

Closing in on the beginning and end of all

Timelessly takes us where we should always be now

#

The fun of haiku:

Trying to use words that are

Pentasyllabic

#

It isn't what you

Say, it's How come you think you

Should say anything?

#

There's some Dew that needs

Doing, and some dude that needs

Some dough to do Dew

#

A note to someone

Seeking to be annoying:

See the acronym

#

Camping: A working

Vacation you take without

Staying at your house

eighteen october, two-thousand twelve

Great architecture

Pulls you into its purpose

As one who belongs

Camping Cycle (through 22/10/12) Wallflower knowing that the dance is not for him

And the one he wants to dance with is having fun

This time will be the same even if he gets to dance

Close dancing from a distance not in space but fact

He contents himself with whatever slight contact

Is granted - he's always ready for any chance

Now though he just enjoys her laugh as she is spun

Grateful that he can just see her across the gym

#

The car is all packed

Everyone is ready

Camping commences

nineteen october, two-thousand twelve

Turns out racing trains

Is bad for your fingertips

Who woulda thunk it?

twenty october, two-thousand twelve

If you want to be

Of any use, you must be

A utility

twenty-one october, two-thousand twelve

Camping trip over

Back to normal tomorrow

I don't like normal

twenty-two october, two-thousand twelve

I was powerless

When I awoke this morning

Got pills and a jump

#

Although I really

Never got to watch

You, I'm sure you had

A good time without me

#

Although I didn't get to do all the watching I hoped -

You know, except the inside of my eyelids

Naps being taken with some frequency -

A lot of time was spent holding the baby

Lance Armstrong Don't fight the haters

Walk away from ev'rything

That's how you live strong

Davis Anniversary Just a decade and a few short years ago

Puck and Bottom played a Mid-Autumn Night's

Dream, and ear hath not seen nor eye

Heard what the end of the play will be

Children gathered 'round the fairy ring

Moon shines bright with good grace

#

Poetry is great

For making people wonder

What you really mean

twenty-three october, two-thousand twelve

Andy’s Birthday Avast ye lubbers cries the cap'n

Never mind what else may happen

Don't ye know there's treasure waitin'

Ye deck needs swabbed and anchor weightin'

C'mon Injun Pirates, tug hard the oar

And follow the map on yonder shore

Never let your war paint run

Nor feathers droop until we're done

Our treasure safe within the hold

Now let's go find some pirate gold

On they rowed to the desert isle

Soon they closed the watery mile

Hopped to shore on pegged legs

And took a swig from rummy kegs

Under the canopy of green went they

Going wherever the map did say

Here scaling cliffs, there through a cave

Now they've arrived - a shallow grave

Ev'ryone digs except the cap

Soon they unearth another map

Says the treasure is there with them

You'll find it in the acronym

twenty-four october, two-thousand twelve

How do you write a song about silence

How do you describe what you've never seen

How can you be forceful without violence

How can you be somewhere you've never been

I'd like to say love is the answer

I'd like to say peace is the key

I'd like to say hope will always guide you

I'd like to say faith is all you need

How do you feel, feel when you're numb

How do you catch your breath when it's gone

How do you shout for help when you've gone dumb

How can you get right when everything's wrong





How do you believe a lie just to feel good

How do you learn to just enjoy the pain

How do you ignore the things you should

How do you again sing, sing that refrain





twenty-five october, two-thousand twelve

When is it time to throw in the towel

When is it time to run away home

When is it time to buy a vowel

When is it time to nap in the loam

Don't never give up

Quitters never win

But if you never give up

And you stick to the trail

Through the thick and the thin

You might just fail

When is it time to just cut your losses

When is it time to just cut and run

When is it time to lay down your crosses

When is time to swallow the gun

Don't never give up

Quitters never win




You might just fail

When it comes time

Down to the line

And nothing is right

Gotta know it is fine

To give up the fight

Don't never give up

Quitters never win




You might just fail

twenty-six october, two-thousand twelve

Battle Hymn of the Old Ones To the tune of “Battle Hymn of the Republic”

It all started midst the watchfires

of a hundred circling camps

As Goober Johnson wrapped his feet

'gainst evening dews and damps

He could see it through the gloom cast

by the dim and flaring lamps

As Cthulhu came for them

Horror, horror, Hallelujah



Lord Cthulhu munches on

Goober Johnson wasn't frightened

fear was never his first thought

Face the animals without fear is what

his grandpappy had taught

So a scaly bear with squid-face was

just something to be shot

As Cthulhu came for them





So Goober raised his Winchester

with just one bullet left

He aimed carefully and fired

at Cthulhu's forehead cleft

And courageous Goober Johnson

is now of his head bereft

And Cthulhu munches on





twenty-seven october, two-thousand twelve

Scott Mason the dread pirate came a-strolling into town

Come to get a crew to man his ship The Scary Clown

Of all the lot he interviewed the worst of them he chose

To gather pirate booty wherever the salty sea wind blows

To gather pirate booty wherever the salty sea wind blows

Mothers and wives were left behind as they sailed out to sea

And the always changing always same sea would their mistress be

Seeking treasures carried by their fearsome enemies

Only leaving their life on board if they led a mutiny

Never leaving their life on board except for mutiny

Down the wind and 'cross the waves the pirate vessel goes

And where Scott Mason hides his treasure no one really knows

Vagabonds of fortune, the pirates never settle down

It's sail the seas until they're captured or until they drown

Sailing the seas until they're captured or until they drown

twenty-eight october, two-thousand twelve

Today

One chance

Do it now

Another may not come

Yestermorrow

twenty-nine october, two-thousand twelve

Maybe if it hadn't been for the rampant

Abuses, there would have been no split

Remember, though, that as a monk Martin

Thought God was looking for every single

Infraction, seeking every excuse to

Not grant salvation where it was not earned

Luther found a way out, at least in his own

Understanding. Right and wrong he set

The Church on a path of renewal and

Heresy that has affected every

Event in the Western world since then

Renaissance man indeed, an individual

#

Change is circumstantial

Having an effect from the outside in

After a change of desire has revealed a

Needed change of behavior

Getting around to changed feelings, then

Equilibrium

#

Ev'rything falls as

Winds howl through solid skies -

It's the Frankenstorm

#

I see the Hand of God in every action

Levelling the earth as His footstool

Letting us know no matter our faction

Believe in Him or be a fool

Each tragedy makes me consider my life

Do I see this as warning or {am I blessed} {is it a test}

And the answer to my internal strife

Must be unequivocally Yes

Not due to national pride or sin

Evil does not respect the person

Damnation comes on what is within

thirty october, two-thousand twelve

Something wicked this way came

Careening around stakes of heresy

Alight with fires of self-righteousness

Reforming the indulgent Papal See

Yet bringing with it a new shame

thirty-one october, two-thousand twelve

All is noise. No stillness is undisturbed.

Little children mill about with their parents

Like it is a festal holiday,

Hoping for special things and spectacle.

All around are people dressed as soldiers,

Like maniacs and like kings.

Lots of blood and gore are par for the course.

One hears sounds of screaming

Which helps orient in the darkness

Soon it will be over, people will go home.

Everyone will return to normality,

Vicariously having participated in the

Evil of the crucifixion.

afterword

A hearty thanks for reading this book

No doubt something here made you go “Huh.”

You should come back next month for a look

Another set of poems will be here for ya.


[email protected]

pretending that things matter

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