Dear President Obama

Dear President Obama,
While I appreciate your promises to help out those on the east coast with the flooding from Irene, under the direction of Mother Nature, I can't help but get a little green with envy. I understand their streets, homes and neighborhoods are covered with water or mud and that it is a general disaster area, and I can empathize. See, I'm from Omaha, and we've had parts of the Interstate closed for months because of flooding. Flooding that was caused when the Army Corps of Engineers, under the direction of Uncle Sam, released tons of water from dams upstream along the Missouri River.

Not only has FEMA refused to help finance the cleanup, but you yourself refuse to come out and even look at the damage. So, here, to make life easy for you, I'll save you the trip. Take a look at this photo slideshow from the Omaha World Herald.

Thank you,
seashmore

P.S.-The amount of support you've shown my neighborhood during this man-made disaster is proportionate to the amount of support you'll be seeing from me in the next election.

Writing Journal

I've decided I like doing what I call "Project Poems."


Kind of Hallmarky sort of things, I guess.


Similar to a homework assignment, there are certain things I tell myself I have to work into the poem. Doing so provides me with a structure to work within, which results in me enjoying my poetry a little more. And that way, too, it's not art just for art's sake.

For this one, I gave someone a CD from the band Riverside as a gift of gratitude and thought I'd include a poem incorporating the names of some of the songs. I also colored rainbows on some paper and wrapped it before putting it in the envelope. (You'll understand when you get to the end of the poem).

The Ultimate Trip: From Fearland to Fearless
Words alone are not enough
To thank you for helping
With something so tough
As a Schizophrenic Prayer.

Through the Other Side of the phone,
You saved me from Parasomnia
And I somehow felt less alone
When I emerged from my 02 Panic Room.

Nope. Words, they still won't do,
Even though I've tried.
So I'll say it with a song or two
Wrapped inside the Rainbow Box.

Writing Journal

I admit; I've been out of touch with the pen as of late. But I awoke after a dream about meeting with my first editor in chief and poetry editor with the feeling that I need to submit something this year. So I need some practice, especially if I'm to appeal to their tastes.
Here goes, another one without a title...

All the worst parts of the day
Perspired to conspire against me.
The heat
The sun
The hills
The lonliness
I longed for a friend,
New or old,
Unexpected or foretold,
Someone to keep me company
On this twenty mile road.

When I paused to catch my breath,
Have a drink, take a rest,
I saw a horseless carriage
Painted white.
I found inside a man,
Who, of Columbus, was a knight.

I acknowledged I was weak.
He insisted there was no pressure
As he took me to a place
Where I would rest and be refreshed.
The whole time I was lonely,
He was close behind,
Waiting for me to just look back
And make up my weary mind.