Month: May 2010

Don’t Forget to Remember Memorial Day

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Avoiding cemeteries is a grave mistake;
A Linkletter Bound for Heaven

Don’t Forget to Remember Memorial DayAvoiding cemeteries is a grave mistake

If we fail to remember the price veterans paid,
Memorial Weekend will not include graves.
We’ll barbecue, picnic, go hiking and sleep
with eyes closed to those in a box six feet deep.

If we fail to remember we’re prone to forget
the men and the women who paid freedom’s debt,
those fathers and mothers who answered the call
not knowing their job would mean giving their all.

If we fail to remember the blood that was shed
and pay our respects to those heroes now dead
it’s likely we’ll lose sight of what we must do
to maintain our rights and our privileges, too.

If we fail to remember we’re bound to succeed
in forgetting the task that belongs to those freed.
To honor the memories of those who have died
embracing their values with patriot pride.

A Linkletter Bound for Heaven
Grace means there is no postage due

His house party is over
now that Art’s no longer home.
He left it bound for Heaven,
but he didn’t go alone.

A postman took this Letter
linked with love and stamped by grace
and delivered it to Jesus
who signed for it post-haste.

This one who made a living
from the darnedest things kids say
would die quite rich (but far too poor
to take his sins away).

What’s true of Art is true of all.
We can’t pay what we owe.
Our bill is paid through childlike faith.
The Bible tells me so!

* Art Linkletter died at the age of 97 on May 26, 2010. His personal faith in Christ is chronicled in the following link.

http://www.cbn.com/700club/guests/bios/Art_Linkletter101006.aspx

A Jumbo Shrimp Alert

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Beware of greasy seafood in the Gulf

Crustaceans down in New Orleans
just haven’t got a clue
why seafood lovers are inclined
to order something new.

The Gulf shrimp and the Cajun prawns
are greasier this year.
And if you check the marinade,
the reason is quite clear.

The tar-like sludge beneath the waves
coats critters out at sea.
The scallops, squid and octopuses
float by helplessly.

Emeril tries to hide the oily taste
by adding “bam,”
but what he ends up serving
is more like green eggs and ham.

The Alpha problem we all know
is oil-rich BP
while our poor friends in the Deep South
lack their Omega 3.

Let’s pray that sunken derrick
can be capped and finally plugged
or those diners will keep serving eels
that taste like greasy slugs.

Taking Your Cues from Betty

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Let a Golden Girl named White color your picture of retirement;
A Lone Survivor

Taking Your Cues from Betty
Let a Golden Girl named White color your picture of retirement

Did you watch Betty White last week?
She hosted SNL.
At eighty-eight this Golden Girl
is still alive and well.

Despite her name, she’s colorful
(off-color too, it seems).
Despite her age, she’s full of life
with countless hopes and dreams.

Retirees should take their cues
from this amazing dame.
Why settle for a life of ease?
Make active goals your aim.

Audition for a musical.
Begin a widows’ group.
Become a homeless activist.
Spend Sundays serving soup.

Connect with grand kids on Facebook
or volunteer at school.
Start texting on your wireless.
The kids will think you’re cool.

Plan outings for your seniors group.
Try writing your memoirs.
On e-Bay buy a telescope
and gaze each night at stars.

Make exercise a daily must.
Workout. Go take a hike!
Try walking at a nearby mall
or pedaling your bike.

The autumn years are colorful.
God meant for them to be.
Don’t veg out like a “sofa spud.”
Stay active. That’s the key!

A Lone Survivor
So what about the kid who survived the plane crash?

100 perished. 1 survived.
A 9 year-old was found alive
amid the wreckage of a plane
that crashed in Tripoli.

This boy named Ruben lived to tell
about a flight that was from Hell.
Imagine being orphaned without warning
just like that.

A dream vacation in a flash
gave way to a nightmare-ish crash.
His brother and his mom and dad
left Ruben all alone.

So given that his family’s dead,
why did God let him live
instead of letting him find rest
to sleep in heav’nly peace?

What God allows, we question so.
Yet through it all, our faith will grow
if we can learn to doubt our doubts
believing there’s a plan.

It’s Nacho Day If…

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

That Arizona law borders on racial profiling;
A Mothers’ Day wish from a poet-son

It’s Nacho Day If…
That Arizona law borders on racial profiling

I hope your name is not Jose
if you are headed Phoenix-way.
They may think you’re from Mexico
and start to read your rights.

It’s nacho day in posh Scottsdale
if you are jailed till posting bail
for saying “buenos dias”
to a stranger on the street.

Don’t order tacos in Tucson
especially if your name is Juan.
They’ll capture you red-handed
for that salsa really stains.

That new law borders on insane.
No wonder critics are inflamed.
If racial profiling’s deemed right
then something’s deeply wrong.

Illegals can’t sneak north unchecked!
But how you seek out and detect
if someone you suspect’s a fraud
should not shame those who aren’t.

I thought that Lady Liberty
said refugees were safe and free.
Or does that statue now exceed
its limitations?

Remembering a Mom Prone to Forget
A Mothers’ Day wish from a poet-son

Mom’s rosy cheeks are growing pale
Her memory’s begun to fail
This little dinghy needs a sail.
Her outboard’s wearing out.

My mother misses Dad so much,
his sound advice, his tender touch.
She’s lost without her guiding light.
She’s timid and unsure.

Still there’s a sparkle in her eye
and yet I really can’t deny
the fact that Mom is losing sight
of what to do and when.

But then again, don’t get me wrong.
Each night at six she leads in song
as eight or ten or sometimes twelve
belt out those timeless hymns.

She tells a joke like Jay Leno.
Her timing’s perfect, don’t you know?
But how she can recall punch lines
is quite a mystery.

She journals daily like a kid
recounting what she ate and did.
Yet sadly, once she shuts her book
the ink evaporates.

But she’s a star (just like her name).
She twinkles night and day the same.
Her constant smile beams God’s love
to everyone she meets.

God, bless you Mom and give you health,
for as we age that is true wealth.
May you be rich remembering
how very much you’re loved.

* At eighty-three, my mom is a remarkable woman. She is still very much in love with life, her Lord, and her two sons (and their families). She is not in love with a mind that can’t recall what it once could.