We are the Change

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Poetry, RhymingLeave a comment

We Are the Change

We can be the change that the world now needs

We should be the ones to plant kindness like a seed

Into the wounded so their hearts will not bleed

We must love the child when love is what they need

 

We can be the ones to show them right from wrong

By our own actions for them to reflect on

Our past reveals our flaws; but the past is gone

Our future is where our true greatness belongs

 

We must show that love is more than just a word

God is not dead is the message that must be heard

Show kindness, hope, faith, tolerance and freedom

These are the actions to get to God’s Kingdom

Why Do I Write?

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories60 Comments

Why do I write?

There was a time when the words flowed from my hand and dropped onto the paper with ease. In those days long ago I walked with Kings and Gods and we talked of love, war, happiness and sorrow. I shared my dreams with you and could make you laugh or cry with the press of my pen. I scattered my words into the rain so that you might feel the mud between your toes as you ran barefoot through the puddles. I showed you where to find golden trees that glittered with a thousand lights. I could share with you a sunrise that splashed orange marmalade and pink chiffon onto a deep blue canvas. With the ink from my soul, I tattooed my stories into your thoughts.

But I left the muse of my youth behind as life pushed away the youthful dreams and parked it’s minivan on my inspiration. Time covered the mounds of words that lay strewn in piles upon my desk and hid them behind mortgages, 401k’s, and cable bills. Children rushed in and out taking with them my every thought. My life was consumed and I was content. I no longer had a use for words and tossed them into the attic of my mind. Over the years they lay there in the dark, alone and hoping that someday my muse might come again.

Age has little more to do these days than to pry open all the doors of my memories. It has found my words of forgotten rhythms and emotions and dropped them haphazardly into the forefront of my mind. I see that the ink on those words that I once drew from the well of my youthful imagination has dried and faded; but it has not disappeared completely. Now they are with me again. They may be tarnished and blemished but they still cling to life. I will attempt to take those words and clean them until they shine again. They still believe in me and I need to believe in them.

Adoption

On By Jerry BrothertonIn flash, Short Stories3 Comments

Adoption

It was just a year ago that Deb and I found what was left of this plant. It had been abandoned and neglected and left for dead. One stringy vine with only two, mostly brown leaves on it wilted over the side of the pot. I was ready to throw it in the trash. I had given up on it.

However, my wife saw something in it that stirred her emotions. She could tell that it was trying, with all the hope that it had left in it, to cling to life. So she moved it to the new house with us. Though it was definitely an eyesore, she set it on the dining room table. It became the center of all attention in the house. There, basking in the warmth of the sun, it drank in the love and happiness that surrounded it.

At first, those two remaining leaves fell to the floor and we thought the shock from being in a new home might have delivered it a death blow. Perhaps it had given up on us. But we still nurtured it, talked to it, fed it…Loved it. One day, a true miracle began to take shape as a tiny green leaf pushed itself into the world. Each day brought more and more surprises to us as we learned how to care for the new addition of our family. It began to flourish and thrive.

Yes, even today you can see the scars of its past life. But those scars do not diminish its beauty. They create its uniqueness. The plant send new stems high into the air… proud and strong. They define what will be its future. Its past is still visible, but through time even those wounds are healing and surviving. Because it knows that someone loved it enough to share their heart, their home, and their love with it…this beautiful life will survive.

Book of Life

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Poetry, Rhyming8 Comments

Tuesdays will be poem of the week blogs. Some of the poems might be previously posted or from my current book – Incoherant Ramblings of an Old Man https://www.amazon.com/dp/1544222947

Others will be from my upcoming book ( Book of Life- More Ramblings from an Old Man)

This weeks poem, is the pilot piece for that book as I attempt to take you on my journey through my Life..

I am still trying to find the voice of the Backyard Poet as I move along my path. Please feel free to comment and let me know how I am doing.

Book of Life

My book of life lies open

Its final chapter waiting to be exposed

Some of my pages are torn or faded

The story has taken long so long to compose

Many who read the early lines

Moved on and shelved my book

Others were merely passing by

Sometimes to stop and take a look

Some would begin in the middle

They do not know the start

That does not mean they’re less important

Or have a smaller place in my heart

Some have found me quite by accident

While dusting off their shelves

Some stuck around and began to read

Others moved on by themselves

But you have been there since page one

My true and faithful friend

Despite all my mistakes and faults

You will read me until…THE END

Defining Success

On By Jerry BrothertonIn flash, Short Stories10 Comments

There’s only one reason I post on the internet. It’s just to let my ego come out and play for a bit.

I don’t do it for money. In 2006, Publisher’s Weekly reported that the average book sold less than 500 copies. That means that in order to make $30000, a person would have to charge $60 per book. Or in most cases where a book does good to sell 100 copies, $600 per book.

I don’t do it for fame. WordPress, the host of this blog reports that there are 84.3 million new posts on the internet every month. Each month, people view more than 23.3 billion pages (that’s billion with a bold, upper case, hi-lighted in yellow, B). So the odds of even getting read by a total stranger is .1652% or 1 in 4,956,000 people on the internet. That is mind boggling. All I can say is that 1 person that stumbled onto my site will be one lucky dude.

So why do I keep putting my words out there for the world to scrutinize? It’s the thrill of that instant endorphin rush. When I say  that I’m a comment junkie, it’s true. I  admit it, each time I open my Facebook page, or my blog site www.thebackyardpoet.com my heart leaps a bit. I’m an instant gratification poet. I write my words, put them out into the world through the network of social media and wait impatiently. I am not a patient man. If you don’t believe me, just ask my wife.

I tend to post most things at midnight so sometimes I have also have to spend a sleepless night waiting for you guys to send me some love.

Hopefully, you will give me some likes… maybe even a few of those heart shaped emoji’s. I break out into my happy dance each time I have a comment (it’s not something you would want to see but it makes my wife smile). But the ultimate Nirvana is when (lo and behold), someone has cared enough to share my creation with their friends. To see there was at least one person that ‘got’ what I had to say is as good as it’s ever going to get.

I’ve thought about this a lot… I believe the greatest honor I could receive as an artist (and I use that term loosely) is to have someone know a piece of my work by heart. Or that someone might tell their children about a story I shared. Or I hear a group of friends sharing coffee at their local coffee shop and discussing some piece of my work.

We (the people who push our words out into the world to be criticized, analyzed and dissected) imagine these things even if they don’t really happen. In my imagination, I see a teenager sitting alone in the park reading my poetry and understanding that life is worth it after all. Sometimes, my mind dreams of two young lovers lying on a hillside in the bright afternoon sun, quoting my words to each other as they fall in love. Images like that are what I see with each comment, each like and each share.

So that is what keeps me going. For me, a small group of devoted fans is worth far more than selling a million books. Because fortunes fade, fame is fleeting, but good friendship will last forever.

Jerry Brotherton

The Backyard Poet

http://www.thebackyardpoet.com

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