The Last Vaoyage

On the 16th this poet was at his favorite restaurant, Blue Water Grill in Newport Beach one of ther few places west of the Mississippi you can enjoy Manhattan Clam Chowder and to ther best of my knowledge  the only place where  you can savor "Fries with Eyes"  smelt.  Being your typical shyless Alaskan I struck up a conversation with the leader of a group increasing by the moment to depart form the dock and spread the ashes of Chuck on the Pacific Ocean. I immediately wrote a peom and gave it to Henry who read it at sea....For a poet it does not get any better

Dust to dust, ashes to ash but the rivers of life all run to the sea
Today, in the past and in the future for all eternity
Our lives on this speck hurtling through space
Short term leases with expanding memories to embrace
Not a tear in the crowd only smiles and warmth good memories bring
This man unknown to me would have led a full life and full of swing
Monuments tarnish and green
The true memories are those of our genes
And the values and lessons we tried by words and actions to impart
No tears only smiles when the boat with ashes seeks to depart
(c) 2/17/2013 Michael P. Ridley aka the Alaskanpoet

Asteroid Misses

We on Earth today were mostly blessed with luck
We did not have to hide, did not have to duck
Only a fly by way too near
 To strike our Earth so dear
Russia has a huge ice fishing hole in its ice
Windows rattled but no human paid the ultimate price
When it comes to life we suspect that we are not alone
When it comes to rocks we know there are many waiting to find our home
We dodged the bullit due to Kepler's law
But maybe there is a slight flaw
Billions on NASA yet they could not find or detect
Only amateurs assuring us we did not need missiles to try to deflect
(c) 2/15/2013 Michael P. Ridley aka the Alaskanpoet   

Papal Abdication

Tyrants, Tsars, love struck kings, and Kaisers abdicate when their rule no longer relates. But a Pope is is the eternal connection between God and the Holy See---the only one infallible on issues of faith. Today the Pople abdicated most likely issues not of his rule but of of his health. Soon we will see smoke from the Vatican to announce another vote or a new Pope. The Church may have problems in an increasing secular and Islamic world, but regardless of problems it represents a force of good. NonCatholics like me pray the new Pope will continue to bring light of compassion to the dark of night and humanities' many plights.
Papal Abdication

The Pope leaves his church in a state much worse

The church is still suffering from the celibacy curse

With Mahoney leaving will molestations still be subject to cover up and hide

With increasing damages in millions for basic laws to abide

Our population is growing old but the priesthood more so

Who among us wants not the love of a woman and children in tow

Marriage in the early years may have been flawed

But a good prenupt would protect church property from the dissolution saw

We should be faithful to our partners and spouse but human sexuality you cannot deny

Nor the millions of children without birth control doomed to suffer and die

© February 10, 2013  Michael P. Ridley aka the Alaskanpoet

Abdication of the Pope

 

Of all the days in the calendar 2/14/ reigns supreme. Love rules and the hope of love drives all of us to reach out and express a wish of peace. A Valentine card the hardest heart will melt. Find a valentine to hug or kiss---love is so fleeting and should never be missed

 

    

                      

 

The Perfect Gift 

Love is like a Noble gas that, without warning fills the room

Or the flower that never wilts, always in perfect bloom

The laws of physics, love often refutes

No matter the objects, it seems never to dilute

No eyes, yet it always seems to see

No arms, yet it always lies alee

Surely no ears, yet it always seems to hear

Not just the sounds, but also a lover’s inner fears.

And when it comes to the tactile sense

So very lasting, so very intense

With nary a twitch, nor slightest sniff

All manner of aromas, it will easily sift

The future it may not always be quick to foretell

But a honed sixth sense within surely dwells

Like a nova it may burst into white hot flame

From gifts for passion to unleash and worries to tame

The roses, candles, chocolates, jewelry and cards

Soften up the heart for the moment of the bard

For roses wilt, candles burn, flicker and no longer light the room

Cards find the trash and chocolate no matter how fine is finally consumed

Not the roses are red and violets are blue

No, another melody of a different, warming hue,

No, the muse who in the soft quiet of the night

When of all the senses only love has any sight

And can hear the heart in rhythmic beat

And can feel the warm glow beneath the sheets

Leaves then the poem that will be the perfect gift

Up the highs, sooth the lows and mend a not—too—often rift

A poem of many stanzas tailored to one’s lover unique

And why with all the blessings no need to another ever seek

But a poem with a central rhythmic core

“You cause my heart to beat faster, my soul to soar

No matter the time, nor date of year

Each day with you has a Valentine to clutch so dear.”

Michael P. Ridley

a/k/a the Alaskan Poet, www.alaskanpoet.blogspot.com

February 8, 2011

Christmas 2012

We have survived the Mayan projected end of the world and the most expensive and mud slinging campaign in our history. We will survive the fiscal cliff. Merry Christmas to each and every one. Happy New Year and go Cardinal in the Rose Bowl!

Christmas 2012 

Much of the nation this Christmas is covered by blizzards and snowy drifts

But we seem to be skiers schussing to the fiscal cliff

Our leaders have left town and Obama is working only on his Hawaiian tan

Until now it has been impossible to be tranquil and serene

When countless political ads have filled the small screen

Two billion spent on political ads leave no more money to spend

A chance for serenity now the campaign and ads have come to an end

Where are the modern Magi bringing not frankincense,  gold and myrrh

But the gift of sanity and unity to somehow this disaster defer

Christmas is a time of songs, children running down the stairs

Gift wrapping covering the floor while holiday aroma fills the air

A time to share the gift of peace with family, stranger, foe and friend

Praying that the serenity and tranquility so received will never end

It is also a time of faith and hope

And a belief that with unity we can cope

If Blue and Red become more Purple and shed the warring past

The gift of peace has a chance to really and truly last

To all Merry Christmas and  God bless

United we will end this distress

© December 24, 2012 Michael P. Ridley aka the Alaskanpoet

Fromage Always Wins

We have been overwhelmed by talk of the American Dream at both conventions as each speaker tries as each speaker seeks to portray themselves as totally destitute with parents and grandparents trudging though the snows of poverty so their children or grandchildren could have a better life. Like piranha trying to devour a cow in the Amazon River, both parties seek to portray themselves as the defender of the American Dream. Today at lunch I meet an example of the American Dream in action, a young white woman native born, working full time and going to school at night to get her
degree. The title of this post is a code for her name. She represents exactly what this country is all about.  I can only wish her well and hope when 2-3 years from now she graduates that a job will be waiting for her.
Fromage
The convention halls have been full of rhetoric and hot air
Stories of humble beginnings each speaker wishes to share
So refreshing to talk not about a parent but a a young woman in search
Of a degree that will enable her to climb to a higher perch
Eating lunch with text book at her side
Determination to force opportunity open wide
Who ever believes in this Golden State that we only go to the beach
You should look at this young woman and the level she is trying to reach
The hurdles are not money or lack of drive
But the regulations and taxes waiting when she arrives
The Dream can be the thinnest of candles in an Elton John song
Or in this case cables of steel really thick and quite strong
Fromage allons, allons, le jour de gloire est arrive
Soon the tassle will be moved on a graduation day
Michael P. Ridley aka the Alaskanpoet (c) September 5, 2012

Independence Day Thoughts

236 years ago and thousands of lifes and broken bodies ago, a brave band of men and women, pulled the English Lion's tail and would not let go until freedom could grow. If there were Vegas betting odds in 1776, no one would have taken the bet--Liberty is a concept you need to forget. Follow Paine and you will need to drop the e for that is what you will get, from Bunker Hill to Valley Forge to even crossing the Delaware is what you will get. Like today the country was not in one voice against an external threat. If we had had the bickering we have today and the partisanship would this country ever been formed and survived. As we celebrate our independence to our rabid Blues and Reds a plea on this most important day wear a swash of purple.
Hope you enjoy the poem describing what Newport Beach California looks like on the 4th

Summer Patriots 

It is far too ironic that on the day we celebrate independence from our former English liege,

A large part of Newport will be like a city under martial siege,

With police on every corner though not in riot gear and barricades on every street.

That cherished right of auto movement has been curtailed, it has met defeat.

In recent years our neighbor city further up the coast,

Thousands of celebrants turning all manner of couches and sofas into toast.

Symbols of farmers, blacksmiths or tanners behind a hedge, fence or tree,

Armed with flintlock by force to try to set us free.

The image of fife and drum and three men with bandaged head and wounded leg,

Replaced today by those gathered round the coolers, gathered round the keg,

The badge of honor goes to whomever can most and forever consume,

Or who gathers the most thongs throughout his rooms.

In 1777 it was a day to reflect, of fireworks and a thirteen cannon salute,

Marking the first Independence Day the fragile seed of democracy began slowly to take root.

In most of the country this is a day of parades, Souza, reflections, fireworks and family barbecues.

Sad, in this Golden Land of beach and sun, it is a day of too much wine, too much brew.

Any excesses you cannot blame on Washington who on this day in 1778,

Handed out rations of double rum to his soldiers who helped forge this ship of state.

A thin blue line and thin green line are poised on our border,

Against overwhelming odds to try to prevent drunken chaos and disorder,

For those summer patriots whose guzzling will not relent,

Who feel such independence is a God-given consent,

No matter how close you look at their blue and green threads,

No way will you find the slightest speck of Redcoat red.

If the summer patriots despised by Paine choose to party and not reflect,

At least accord the thin blue and green lines some honor and respect.

In the party daze remember freedom is not cast in stone nor etched in concrete,

It is more fragile than a snowflake or butterfly and in the hall of nations may quickly lose its seat.

Look only to Troy who felt with their walls alone were beyond any Greek’s reach,

Remember this short lesson history will teach,

After the celebrations of rivers of wine ran their sleepy course,

Troy was destroyed by conscious Greeks coming from their Trojan Horse.

For our rights soldiers are dying daily on Iraqi sands or in Afghan not Bunker Hills,

Party to the max, is that how one respects that sacrifice and final bill?

If for only a moment, image an army unpaid, in rags, many without shoes,

But no matter the hardship forged in the valley, their faith remained true,

They would not let go when they grabbed the lion’s tail,

No matter what, against trained English steel, cannon, and muskets they would not fail.

Each pledged one’s property and each pledged one’s life.

In countless battles many our forefathers paid the ultimate sacrifice.

So done, wave the flag with meaning and fireworks applaud with hearty cheer,

But maybe this year as you pause and reflect, use a little less wine, a little less beer.  

© July 4, 2007

Michael P. Ridley aka the Alaskanpoet