Isaac's Poems


If you want to be amazed, read the poem's from my grandson, Isaac.  For a 16 year old kid, he really has his head on straight.  I have never read anything so profound as what he has written.  He has given me permission to include a few of them here.

I am hoping that I can entice him to write enough so that we can have them published.  He has always been bored with school and after reading these, I finally know why....he could probably teach some of his teachers about life.

All written here must have approval from the author before lifting or using any portion or thereof. This was posted when Isaac was 16 years old.  




Darkness flows all around you a raging sea of hopelessness and despair.  
Alone you strive to stay afloat.  
Lightning flashes from unseen clouds and anger burns within you 
    as you think of those not alone, of those who laugh and point.  

The darkness presses nearer overwhelming you with a suffocating grip.  
In this one moment of terrible despair and darkness, 
light suddenly descends and a hand reaches down to grasp your flailing arms.  
The light seems to grow brighter pushing past the all-consuming darkness and 
you find your strength renewed and grasps the hand with a joyful vigor.  

            The darkness is swept away and a smiling face of an unknown stranger greets you.  
A timid “hi” escapes your lips and you draw back in fear of retribution. 
For always before, laughs had followed not the happy laughs that are a joy to be heard but scornful laughs that cut and seared.  

However, as before, there is only a smile accompanied 
now by a friendly greeting and a hand extends and 
you draw back in fear but as you look up 
you find only joy and compassion in the eyes of this stranger. 

            Before you can run away, before you can object, 
the hand descends again and taking yours pulls you to your feet.  
Oblivious you are to this and consciousness seems lost, 
for when this stranger took your hand it missed and instead touched your heart.

  COMPASSION:  Without it, life cannot exist.  To some a smile is just an expression and a hug just a moment in time to others however, it may prove to be a saving grace.  A critical moment, which acts as a sculptors hands shaping your life.  Compassion, the quiet whisper that is easily ignored if by doing so one can benefit.  Nevertheless, if heeded, could lead to actions which could touch someone’s life however briefly and perhaps shape a life.

            Compassion is fast becoming a trait, a whisper that is easier and easier to ignore.  To often do we see, a sight that pains our eyes and just flick the channel or drive on by.  After all logical reasoning would imply, what difference could I make.      However, a simple hello can change a life.



Where would this world be
With out those who hold our
Earliest memories;
Without those who
Brought us into this world?

Who share our every pain ?
Who worry when
We are absent for any amount of time ?
Where would we be
With out those
Who cared for our hurts
And our needs?

Who tenderly treated
Each cut and scraps?
Who scold and bandage?
Who hold and comfort?

Those who helped show us
The many joys of this world;
While still being there
To hold our hands
As we journey through
Our scariest moments
Of uncertainty.

Love is materialized
In their smiles,
In their hugs,
In their goodnight kisses.

Worry is made flesh
In these beautiful women
Whom we call mom.

In these wonderful creatures
Who protect and guide,
In those whom we often cause
Worry and strife.

In those whom we
Have yet to understand
Their importance.
For without them
Where would we be?

With out them
Nothing would be.
Without You Mom
I would not be me.

So from the deepest
Most intimate recesses of my
Mind and my heart,
I thank you.

For without your love
To have guided me
Through the pains of my life;
With out your reassuring smile
And pat on the shoulder,
I would not be here if not for you.

Your love has shown me the
Joy of life
The Love of God is made
Flesh to each of us
Through you wonderful women.

So from us, your children
From me, your son. . .

Happy Mothers Day


Song of the Forrest

You stand still - the gentle breeze weaving an elegant dance through your hair.  
Sunlight’s rays seem to drift casually through the leaves and branches.  
A nearby tree stands tall and regal proudly holding his branches for all to see. 
While above and below the children of the 
forest dance the dance of life as they 
interact and react with each other.  
A squirrel reaches down to grasp the gift of a fallen acorn 
as it rests gently on a soft bed of leaves.  
Rain begins to fall - suddenly - the scent of the forest intertwines itself with the falling rain then both are carried ever so gently by the wind to 
lie on your up turned face and outstretched arms.  
A bird glides down in a dizzying drop weaving itself through the branches 
that seem to shift suffering the weaver passage.  
Its wings dip and its descent slackens enough to allow for a graceful perch as it begins to give thanks 
for the rain with a merry song.  
Soon the rain clouds drift away, their 
melody is distantly heard as other 
parts of the forest begin to dance 
but this song is not yet over 
for a mist begins to arise 
or perhaps one cloud has decided to stay 
and has come down to look for a partner.  
Still the gentle breeze weaves its dance 
but now it has a friend and it brings with it the chilled mist which seems to conform itself around your body 
clothing you in a heavenly cloth which flows insinc 
with every movement of your body.  
The stars smile over head and the light of their
smile clothes the world in a peaceful glow.  
Beyond them the moon observes the peace within her realm and is content to pour out its light over you.  
Your clothing of mist and wind slide along your arms as you hold out your hand 
watching the light reflect and refract across the eternal dancers.  
When you come to this place you will have found my sanctuary.


The Purest Love

 The world begins anew the beauty yet unseen but as our eyes behold it the purest of all things, we are swept away in humility blinded by tears of shame for we can not understand how we can be so loved     ..................... I'm just a receiver of that love who can pass it on to the people I know and those who are indeed dear to me get especially drenched ;-)




To travel the stars

A dream yet unrealized

To find courage within

A journey many have trod

But few as of yet have finished.


To find knowledge

And wisdom unsurpassed

A task many have failed

To complete.


But yet we as the new

As those yet untainted

By failure and despair

May try to succeed

Where those before have



So wandering feet

Stray not from your

Path of wonder

But instead

Find within yourself

The power to continue.


For you alone

Can shape the path

Which you have been

Set to trod upon

And this journey of yours

Is far from over.

Let not

Your heart be discouraged

Remember always

That you are not alone

For we have the memories

Of those who have come before.

We have the guidance

Of those around us

The wisdom unrevealed

Inside ourselves.


So I say again

To you oh wandering feet

Stray not from

Your path of wonder

But instead

Remember that

It is you

And you alone

Who have the power

To shape that which

The path

You have been set to walk

By a power yet unseen

And which has bestowed

In each of you

The ability to change

That which is to come.


FUSION:  Anger boils. Fusion occures.  Diffusion is necessary to equalize the equation.  Fear must leave.  Anger must depart.  Loneliness and confusion have no part.  Pain. . .pain does not belong.  Only calm must remain.


The sweet smell of apple pie
the warm clothes for Christmas
the gentle hugs
and tight squeezes
the persistent nagging
the soothing voice
the place of vacation
the place of vocation
the smiles
the food
the yard of unimagined
possible realities
where the children
become more then they are
where they become 
knights and hero's
even damsels in distress
the knee to sit on
as they  rock you  back and forth
such are the joys 
of Grandma and Grandpa Choo Choo.

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