Thursday, January 5, 2017

This then the Miracle

This, then, the miracle,

He comes ?

Tis pierced, and shunned.

This then, the miracle,

We seek.

To recognize.

The one, we do.

This, then the miracle.

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

This then pot, the plant

I prayed for a miracle,
I got the pot, planted.

Her death, would it come ?
Know I not, but when,

soon...

God, then sent, this gift
This to recognize, took but, years.

Death has not come,
Pass by it thus,

Has ...

This wife, still thus,
I have, and children too.

Plus one. ..

Solved ...

The great Nephretic puzzle
Thus, I have.

Now to be greatful,
For the miracle, he hath wrought.

And gifts, we now share.

(Book Of Mormon, 1 Nephi ch. 4)

Chapter 4

Nephi slays Laban at the Lord’s command and then secures the plates of brass by stratagem—Zoram chooses to join Lehi’s family in the wilderness. About 600–592 B.C.

10 And it came to pass that I was constrained by the Spirit that I should kill Laban; but I said in my heart: Never at any time have I shed the blood of man. And I shrunk and would that I might not slay him.
...
12 And it came to pass that the Spirit said unto me again: Slay him, for the Lord hath delivered him into thy hands;
13 Behold the Lord slayeth the wicked to bring forth his righteous purposes. It is better that one man should perish than that a nation should dwindle and perish in unbelief

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

She closed her heart







Luv her, a choice...
not a feeling.

She closed her heart.
Like the lady, that swallowed that fly,
I know not why.

I reached for her,
there, as a boy.
There, on the bench, in the car,
she beside me.

Cuddled, under her arm,
like the puppet, beside me.
She purchased the puppet,
at the pink ladies' shop.

We had gone to the hospital,
to discover, why, I wet the bed.
She was damaged goods,
as was I.

When life gets tough,
it hardens you.
You grow a shell,
thicker with the growing years.

I wet the bed, this because,
distant then, began I to feel ...
Not loved, not wanted,
cast aside. ..

This, I had thought.
Forty more years, we spent...
In this cuddle, or embrace.
I would reach out...
only to be pushed away.

In the end, she reached out, to dance.
only to be brushed away, ...
almost, still,

Once more, we danced,
and beautiful,  it was then.

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Luv, being a verb

... love being a verb
is a things that retains ...
requires action to endure

life being unfair,
Is ment to sustain.

how to be greatful,
and not bitter and angry
when those we love are,

Tobe,,  taken..

strive always...

to awaken each morning,

to be greatful,

...that you share, one more day.

Dec 2015

Sunday, October 23, 2016

The scars, they shared.


"She took a broken piece of glass and held it in her hand
Sharp as a razor and a wire from the ground
It was a broken piece of love that she had tried to cover up
And outside her window was the world"




Serrated, the knife,
Sharp, was it not?

The burden, he carried...

The more.

Long together, they had been,
He, and the burden.

To carry it now,
He must.
But how, then, he knew not,

Still...
Peeled back the layers, he did,

The top layers only,
On his forearms.

The burden to, release...

Help, 
Did, it not.

The stress, to release...

The pain, it would,
For a time, mask,
The burden...

But carry it, still he did.
The shame, hurt, and guilt.
Of all the yesterday's.

Still, their is another,
Who carries the scars.

The shame, hurt and pain...
For, all the world...

He created.

He would carry this pain too.
To remove the shame
Guilt, and scars.
To lift the burden, and make it light.
This was his task.


"Follow me all you who are heavy-laden and I will give you rest."


Now,
Only one need, carry the scars,
For they both.





"For He, so the luv's, the world. That he give'th his beluved son ..."

"But on the day she realized that she was stronger than the lies
She broke through her window into the world

And she was singing...

Come on, come on set free
All that is a prisoner inside of me
Come on, come on set fire
Burn through the wreckage, leave it all behind"

Bebo Norman, "Outside Her Window was the World"


Wednesday, October 5, 2016

To peer into his soul.

I peered into his body today,

Can I see into his soul.

Scoped it, for us, the Doctor,

Today,

as our god, scopes my soul.

I care for him now, 
as he once cared for me.

I feel the luv,
as I minister,
to his needs.

Luv then, really is a choice.

to see beyond the pain,
... well beyond the tears.

So much i'd have lost,
if not these many years.

So greatful I am,
that god peers, into my soul,
and chooses to luv, me still.

*I am now my Fathers Guardian and we go together to his doctors appointments.
--
Steven Bassett

A near miss, and a shared loss.

too walk, in their shoes, today.

died young, I did,
almost ...

like grandma and granddad  before...

Their hearts failed
while they were, yet young.

all of them, young.

this then young, but 62.
know I not, but that its is.

together children, had they lost,
together and apart.

My uncle lost, but one,
my grandparents, but two.

... many years, were lost, with regret
and a marriage too.

still, in the end, 

the regret, took a greater toll
a greater toll, then it should.

My wife lost i young, almost...
younger then them all.

no regret do I have, 
and no loss, do i share.

but a greater understanding,
and compassion do i share.

For the near miss, and loss,
we shared.

*My story, and my families. I nearly died at age 50 with a collision, with a cement truck.  My wife nearly died from stomach cancer like my Uncle Willard had done over a decade 

My grandparents Leo Herzog and Elnora (Nora) Byington Herzog, died young at 62 of heart disease.

Uncle Willard lost a son in a snowmobile accidents and marriage of + 25 years . My grandparents lost two children, young, in car and motorcycle accidents. 

I have compassion from walking in their shoes.
 


--
Steven Bassett



--
Steven Bassett

A near miss, and a shared loss.


too walk in their shoes today.

died young he did,
like his momma and daddie did

Their hearts failed
while they were yet young.

all of them young.

this then young, but 62.
know I not, but that its is.

together children, had they lost,
together and apart.

he lost but one,
and they but two.

years of regret were lost,
and a marriage too.

still, in the end, 

the regret, took a greater toll
a greater toll, then it should.

My wife lost i young, almost...
younger then them all.

no regret do I have, 
and no loss do i share.

but a greater understanding,
and compassion do i share.

For the near miss and the loss,
we shared.

*a story of my Uncle Willard Herzog, My grandparents Leo Herzog and Elnora (Nora) Byington Herzog.  With my wife's near loss to cancer I have come to understand and walk in their shoes.  Willard lost a son in a snowmobile accidents. My grandparents lost two children, young, in car and motorcycle accidents. They died of hearts disease and Willard Died of the same cancer that almost took my wife's life.
 


--
Steven Bassett

Saturday, October 1, 2016

A longing for Joy


a longing intense... 
this drive will not rest ...
not feeling at home.
I need to leave peace.
The circle I seek,
return I may then.

** Joy = Sehnsucht  a difficult to translate Germain concept. 

[my first  poem Oct 2011]

Inspired by (Suprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life, Clive Stanley Lewis)

(see, G.K. Chesterton,  "Homesick at Home” (1896) from The Coloured Lands (London: Sheed & Ward, 1938))

see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sehnsucht

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Still, the question.

Still the poetry,
From where doeth it come.

But come'th it does.

Till I come,
It reaches me.

Forever more
And then the same.

Doeth it reach you?

much ado about no'thing

much ado about no'thing

it was a small thing,
never quite their,
unfinished it was, 
or uncompleted they said.

it begged to be more,
to be finished, they said.

When all it was,
caused heartache and pain.
disposed of, it was, 
in a little, small care.

what does one do,
with an unfinished, 
unfulfilled, no'thing.

in time, another,
fulfilled, its promise.

a blessing it was,
to the both of them.

still the loss of possibility,
from the unfinished no'thing. 

** In Elizabethan England, "thing" was a slang or vulgar reference to a mans reproductive organ.  Then the organ that a woman receives it with is a no'thing.  If a man had a thing then a woman had a no'thing.**



--
Steven Bassett

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Between, the storms


luv,
between the storms.

Was it life,
the life, they lived,
the life between...
the storms?

Does luv grow,
in the storms,
between them now.

To make a choice,
always they must.

barely a breather,
between the storms.

is life, the sum total,
of the calms, 
or the storm.

growth comes,
in the storm.

lesson are learned,
in the calms.

to shelter, in each,
must they then,
now find.

in the end,
the sum total,
of their lives,
is this ...

the luv remains.

Thoughts on the life of my mom and dad.
--
Steven Bassett

Monday, September 26, 2016

on Hosea and Gomer ver 2.0

Hosea was gods prophet,
god choose Hosea.

Gomer was gods handmaiden,
Gomer chose god ...

god knew Gomer and Hosea,
long before they remembered god.

god had a message for them,
for Hosea, Gomer and the world.

Remember me, from before,
you became,
where you are now.

They could return,
to him now,
where he is ...

Hosea must redeem Gomer,
as god redeemed the world.

When god commands you to choose Gomer...
be greatful for god choose you too.

For the ransom has been paid,
and we are redeemed.


*some say Gomer was a loose woman, a woman of low morals, Hosea was gods prophet to ancient Isreal to an unfaithful nation.

ver 2.0 09-26-2016
--
Steven Bassett

Thursday, September 22, 2016

On being faithful, to his unbelief.

Their he sits,
on the back row,
most Sundays.

The back slider.

He had lost it,
so long ago,
on his mission,
to redeem the world.

He was deep-rooted,
in his unbelief...

So faithful,
to its loss ...

He married outside the faith.

A daughter came then too.

They raised her in his faithfulness,
to his unbelief.

His wife thought...

Their daughter needed,
a faith,
a belief.

His was as good, as any other.
Perhaps, even better.

Many times, he had tried,
to leave his unbelief.

It was marrow deep,
in his bones.

His ancestors buried it,
deep there,
ever so deep,
he could not retrieve it.

It become a blessing,
his unbelief.

Let him see, the true light,
at the center, of every soul.

Was his prayer unanswered,
in his unbelief?

Lord, I do not believe,
Bless me now, in my unbelief.

*Inspired by the life and unbelief of Levi Peterson, author of "The Backslider". It is my understanding that it was his non-mormon wife's desire to raise their daughter in the mormon faith.

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

on Hosea and Gomer

Hosea was gods prophet,
god choose Hosea.

Gomer was gods handmaiden,
Gomer chose god ...

god knew Gomer and Hosea,
long before they remembered god.

god had a message for them,
for Hosea, Gomer and the world.

Remember me, from before,
you became,
where you are now.

They could return,
to him now,
where he is ...

Hosea must choose Gomer,
as god chose the world.

When god commands you to choose Gomer...
be greatful for god choose you.


*some say Gomer was a loose woman, a woman of low morals, Hosea was gods prophet to ancient Isreal to an unfaithful nation.

--
Steven Bassett

Sunday, September 18, 2016

On the World, Becoming

The world,
Is it now becoming?

They seek to divide,
to sell us the goods.

Hate sells better
then love.

To advertise,
they must shock us.

Murder, theft, and robbery,
sell better then,
kittens and new puppies.

To entertain they must devide us.

By all measure the world gets better,

When I walk away,
turn it off,
and seek to serve.

Steven Bassett sept 2015

Thursday, September 15, 2016

on being Geppetto, or block of wood.

Geppetto was a kindly, old sole,
and a kindly ole sole, was he.

He danced for his dinner,
and he danced for his supper,
and he danced, with the fiddlers three.

This dance, he brings forth,
and then do we share.

Pinocchio, was he their,
their always,
in the in-created, block of wood.

their to be discovered,
to be brought forth, 

then, to grow, 
and then be shared.

Some times, I feel like Geppetto,
Some times, I am Pinocchio.

My Dad, and I dance.
Sometimes, he is Dad,
Sometimes, am I.

This Dance then,
do we bring forth.

together, and apart.

to then together,
discover the boy,
in the un-created,
block of souls.

--
Steven Bassett

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

On becoming a parent.

today i became his parent

he carried me that first day
that first day together

it was not supposed, 
to be this way, in the car, 

together.

i had a rough start
this day was my first.

little did i understand
this day and his concerne.

no diaper did i soil,
or ever would i then or now.

without this ride,
not long would i live.

I know he was scared.
two sons had he not,

The second was i then.

After the surgery, 
hungry was I, not?

The nurse had not time,
no time for me to feed.

Dad, he had time,
and that used, he now.

Soon I was eating,
and growing I did.

Now the table turns,
turns today it does.

I will become his parent,

together, a journey, we share,
to find his needs.

to protect him now.
this the second ride,

together. 

--
Steven Bassett

Saturday, September 3, 2016

I rode a poem today.

I wrote, a poem, today,
Or did it ride me.

To be taken, for a ride,
by a poem.

It climbs out.
Kicking and scratching,
and crawling my way.

Soon to be forgotten.

No fish to wrap.
No fires to start.

Just memories to make,
and lives to change.

Friday, September 2, 2016

he said, she said

she said,
no babies can I have,

he said,
I luv you still,

she said,
maybe their will be babies

he said,
I luv you still.

two years they tried
two twins they lost,
or so it seamed.

she said,
i want you to see a doctor.

he said,
I luv you still.

she said,
I will help you.

Together, they found,
it was him, not her.

he cried,
and cried.

she said,
I luv you still.

then came the babies,
and they luved them so.
--
Steven Bassett

Friday, August 26, 2016

To still the (mourning/morning)

T'is it, this past, to then, be gone.
gone it is, this (morning/mourning) long.

When mourn has come, and then be gone.
T'is it too quiet, to come, this morn.

To simmer, this fire, this pain, this past.
to leave behind, this (mourn/morn), at last.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

The choice, in the bedroom. Ver 1.0

he found her that way,
in the bedroom with his best friend.
his loaded glock in his right hand
his anger in his left.

the choice, now to make.
it would change the world.
how long does one count
to ones self
before changing the world ...

years later , the children
did he love her still?

they burned through them all,
together and apart.
one luver after another.
now together, again they are.
he on one bedroom, she in another.

like  a little wipped puppy, she was.
yet he luved her still.
yet to leave her he must,
to go on she will.

but the children between them they have,
to luv them still,
this choice to make,
this choice to share.

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

First the pot, then the flower.

An apple was it not,
or then maybe a flower.

Bare fruit it did,
then.

Doe'th one plant a flower,
to preserve a life.

The first fruit, doe'th,
it become?

Brought forth first,
knowledge.

Then eternal life.

This the choice,
a flower thus plant,
to then the cure.

Then more they whole,
once more again .

To thus a family,
tobe the more.

Monday, August 15, 2016

Sits, their he, no more

no more, sits he, their'by
Waiting.

The weight, is no more.

The burden we carry, no more.
Together.

Now he doth wait,
For the more part .

The part to come then,
When we are no more,
Separate.

But, together, again.

On meeting his daughter.

Going is he not?
To meet her today.

She came with,
the one he luved.

The bonus child.

Got her body,
did she then?

Then home again,
went she.

Home, to await his arrival.

Here to raise a family,
was he ...

Never far,
from his thoughts,
was she ...

Look like them,
did she then ?

The other children,
and her ...

Meet they now,
and joy'es it be.

Friday, August 12, 2016

Marriage, a "Vulgar" notion.

In marriage,
two stages, be their may.

Three their be,
If luck their hold.

To work them through,
The second to return,
To the first.

Is the work of,
of a lifetime.

T'is it then a Vulgar notion.
For a Vulgar time.

From fuck you, in the hallway,
To fuck you, as we pass.

To have the courage,
To change, forget, and forgive.

To return the cycle.
To this, then be my task,
In this life.

*Vulgar: of the common folk, peasant class, redneck notion.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

The London Illustrated News .

I let them loose, today.
Where they ever, really, mine.

The thoughts, I possessed...
When I possessed them.
they were mine?

Now are recorded, and scattered.
Scattered to the wind.

Chesterton, had his thoughts,
in the penny papers, of his day,
The London Illustrated News.

They wrapped fish in then.
They used them, like the Sears, Roebuck, Catalog,
In the outhouse,
To finish, their duty,

Now I publish, to the blog,
and facebook too?

Will my thoughts last, long.
Will I be remembered,
When gone, I am.

Still the thoughts,
I carry, and Share,
maybe you, can share,
them too.

Gilbert (G.K.) Keith Chesterton.

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

The covenant, and the sparrow.

Why choose to luv, him
Faithful was he, not

The many years,
and the children.

Sleeping side by side.
always to mourn, what could have been.

Together, apart came they always.
Always, together and apart.

To give up, many would have now.
Yet, not give up she has...

Did she see what he could be,
and not what he was,
or had been.

Was he the sparrow,
God watched and mourned?

It is said, never a sparrow doeth fall,
but God doeth not take notice of.

If he, god wanted, him,
how could she not.

This covenant,
This eternal,
This ever more.

This she seeks,
and ever see's.

Monday, August 8, 2016

To finish, is now

The poem...

When is it completed ?

When I post it,
or when you share it?

Saturday, August 6, 2016

The question, the poetry.

From whence comes the poetry.
Come rising up it doth.

Like a great lava flow.

Surging, rising, and falling.

Up and down.
To and fro.

It will not rest,
Till rest I do.

To come forth birthed.
A full grown child.

Then nurtured to a final form.

Released again, anew.
To then come forth.

And visit you now.

And then to share.

This world of ours.