A Message from my New Bride.

 

Dear Tim,

Awake this night, pondering what responsibility I am running away from. Thoughts of our conversation while walking the track came to my mind, I began to think tonight about how I could best support you. I read Mosiah 12-13, I read 3 Nephi 21-22. I prayed for you. Then I began to listen to things on YouTube. Just random things but God knows all things. My understanding was opened. 

Your goals are small compared to what God wants them to be. Think bigger than just you and me. How can you help the world?  What touches your heart and gives you a desire to help the world be a better place?  What do you need to study in order to have the knowledge to support that idea? To support us until you reach your goal? 

If the answer is that working for Adam will get you to the next level, then that is great. In January will I still need to be part of this venture? If so then there is something else for you to learn. Let's ask God to help with that. What I am saying is that I don't want to earn more than you. If I do then I am a usurper.

I know that you are God's man. What you are seeking is seeking you. I thank God for the wonderful and beautiful marriage we have. I thank God for the intelligence and wisdom He has blessed you with. I thank God for answering our prayers according to the faith we have.  I Love You,

Amy

Timerick: Hi, I’m a Leaf Blower. Everybody Hates Me. (Thanks to Jason Gay.)

 

why can't the leaves be left alone/instead of being ever blown/across the lawns of middle class/folks who love their tidy grass?/bagging leaves is such a bore/ a mindless pointless bourgeois chore/I'd rather plant a Norway pine/than listen to a blower's whine.

Timerick: Homes Now Typically Sell in a Week, Forcing Buyers to Take Risks (WSJ)

 

a week ago I bought a house;

at least I thought I did.

but when the realtor called me up

he said I still must bid.

for other buyers were on board

and jacking up the price.

I didn't think that sporting and 

it certainly ain't nice.

So I upped my ante a few thousand --

what the heck.

but when my realtor called me back

he wouldn't take my check.

I pleaded and I hollered

but that villain simply said:

"the housing market is insane

and standing on its head!"

My money cannot buy a home;

I rest my weary bones

on a park bench till the day

I get some bigger loans!

Haiku: 冬にガスを渡す

 

a cloud of feathers
with a red wattle waving
in brown gravy death

羽の雲
赤い編み枝細工を振って
茶色の肉汁の死で

a braid of water
weaved with mudlarks and clinkers --
now reflects sunlight
水の三つ編み
マッドラークとクリンカーで編まれた-
太陽光を反射するようになりました


死んだ白鳥のように白い
深いほこりの中のスラグの山に
隙間のある穴の隣
as white as dead swans
on slag heaps in the deep dust
next to gaping holes

Haiku: 詩人は豆のスープを作っています

making white bean soup

the wooden spoon has a crack 

onions fry in oil

白豆のスープを作る

木のスプーンにひびが入っている

タマネギは油で揚げる

 

スカッフィングの芸術は失われた都市の芸術形態です-葉の上でもっとサーフィンをしましょう！

the art of scuffing is a lost city artform --more surfing on leaves!

potatoes are dear
red meat is a memory
the damn vaccine's fault
じゃがいもは傷ついた肉は記憶ですいまいましいワクチンのせい

Timerick: How Cities Could Spend $1 Trillion on Infrastructure: Roads, Trains and Highway Exits

(thanks to Jim Carlton)

If I had lots of moolah I can tell you what I'd do;

I'd make our cities livable, not smelling like a zoo.

The flowers and the bushes would be planted with panache;

I'd put in lots of sweet peas and a bit of Hubbard squash.

Pushcarts full of candy and selections of ripe cheese

are offered up for gratis midst the oyster cracker trees.

The parks would have no benches; only sofas by the score,

where any weary citizen could lay right down and snore.

The cops would be required to flip pizza dough all day,

then bake it in big ovens and just give it all away.

The jails would be repurposed for a video arcade,

and crooks and judges made to offer lawyers marmalade.

Cats and dogs and pigs and goats, plus sometimes an iguana,

would all be shipped off to a farm down south in Tijuana.

Anchovies would swim upstream and unpolluted air

would support box kites while birds played online solitaire.

There's be no condos to fall down, or busy four lane streets;

everyone would ride a bike and look like buff athletes.

If any money still remained I would invest in pearls

and send 'em all to Bangkok for the pretty Thailand girls! 

 

Haiku: 詩人はスクランブルエッグを切望します

 

Brown hands change diapers

feet walk in widening circles --

hair brushes unite!

滴る水
轟音と漂流-
茶色のシルトは汗のにおいがします。

the water dripping

then roaring and drifting off --

brown silt smells like sweat.

滴る水
その後、轟音と漂流-
茶色のシルトは汗のようなにおいがします。

faded green colors

reflected in washed out pools --

damp tree bark is black.

色あせた緑色 洗い流されたプールに反映- 湿った木の樹皮は黒です。

Haiku: 詩人は彼の妻の健康が戻ったことを喜んでいます

 

The empty platter

amidst the chatter of home --

have some more skim milk.

空の大皿
家のおしゃべりの中で-
もう少しスキムミルクを持っています。

A damp bush at dawn
and shreds of cloud overhead --
merely distractions
夜明けの湿った茂み
と雲のオーバーヘッドの断片-
単に気晴らし

Chasing a white ball

across a green field in sun

is man's blissful right.

白いボールを追いかける
太陽の下で緑の野原を横切って
人間の至福の権利です

Weeping Daddies

 

Daddy takes me to the park, he always does the dishes;

On rainy days we stay at home, watch DVDs with fishes.

He pours the milk on cereal, and gives me too much sugar.

He wipes my nose real carefully, to get out ev’ry booger.

He tucks me in most ev’ry night, and likes to tell me stories

Of wizards, knights, and giants who are seeking greater glories.

O, I am happy daddy’s home while mommy works a heap.

But why is it when no one looks, my daddy has to weep?

This Covid bug is making mommy look quite sick as well.

When she comes home she sits around just drinking muscatel.

Haiku: 詩人の妻はCovid-19を持っています

 

Her eyes are sweating

Her mouth closed and colorless

She still does laundry

彼女の目は汗をかいている

彼女の口は閉じて無色

彼女はまだ洗濯をします

the smell of chicken

fried in myrrh and frankincense 

and petroleum.

鶏のにおい
ミルラとフランキンセンスで揚げた
と石油。

orderly tree rows

give comfort, not promises --

weeds smell like pepper

整然とした木の列

約束ではなく、快適さを与える-

雑草はコショウのようなにおいがする