Christmas Poem 2023

Christmas Poem 2020

A Poem For These Times

This morning I awoke with a heavy heart, feeling the anxiety and depression of those around me, and the world. As a historian by training, I feel saddened by where I sense we are going. Normally I don't write poetry, except for my annual Christmas poem, but at dawn, on this lovely blue sky, February day, this poem came to me. It is untitled at this point.

Dreams of Founders shattered,
Fears of the Innocent manifested
as they come to await a tragic end.
Sold out for evil gains,
a nation once full of promise and hope,
titters on the pinnacle of despair,
bracing for the fall into darkness
as faux leaders push
Democracy and the Republic
over the edge and grin wickedly as they die,
thinking themselves gods.

Reinvention

As I ponder the reinvention of this blog, I have been submitting manuscripts: short stories, novels, and poetry. The later triggered a thought.

Over the years I have written lots of poetry, mostly for person reflection, and most I wouldn't ever bother submitting to a publisher. Yet, it might be fun to share it here. So enjoy the reading.

"Brain Sculpture"
by Heather Hobson


The brain is like a sculpture
in need of careful carving.
Each new experience
is another chiseled line.
Every learned fact,
be it names of planets
or simple math equations,
creates a painstakingly planned detail,
forever engraved upon the sculpture of the mind,
which is only finished
when the sculptor no longer breathes.
The question then remains,
will it be an artistic masterpiece
or the feeble doings of a lunatic?