CARL E GUSTAFSON: CARL GUSTAFSON POEMS

MY COMPUTER – MY MEMORIES

FOR PLACES I’LL NEVER SEE AGAIN

WHERE I USED TO LOVE TO GO

I’LL PULL UP GOOGLE ON MY SCREEN

AND FIND STREET LEVEL VIEWS

AND IN MY MIND I’M THERE ONCE MORE

GETTING READY TO VISIT MY MOM

AND THE HOUSE OF MY GRANDPA

AND FAMILYS’ AND FRIENDS’

AND DINERS I’VE SO ENJOYED

I SEE THE HOMES OF MY CHILDREN

AND DREAM OF MANY A VISIT

WISHING SO HARD IT WERE REAL

BEAUTIFUL MEMORIES FLOOD MY SOUL

THEN I LOOK AWAY FROM THE SIGHT

AND THE THOUGHTS DISAPPEAR

BUT I KNOW I CAN RETURN IN MY MEMORY

MY COMPUTER IS ALWAYS THERE

A Mother's Love

Of all the special joys in life,

The big ones and the small,

A mother's love and tenderness

Is the greatest of them all

Proverbs 31:28 (NIV)

"Her children arise and call her blessed;

Her husband also, and he praises her!"

OUTER BANKS SEAGULLS

I SAT AND WATCHED THE SEAGULLS FLY,

SOARING THROUGH THE AIR,

SOME WENT RIGHT AND SOME WENT LEFT,

I DO NOT KNOW TO WHERE.

DID THEY WAVE OR GREET THEIR FRIENDS,

AS THEY PASSED SO HIGH?

OR WERE THEY BLIND TO OTHER BIRDS,

WAY UP IN THE SKY?

I ASKED MYSELF, "WHAT DO THEY THINK?"

"WHY ARE THEY RUSHING SO?"

"ARE THEY SIMPLY GOING HOME?"

"DO THEY HAVE A PLACE TO GO?"

WHY DO THEY FLY? SOME NORTH SOME SOUTH,

THEY LOOK JUST STRAIGHT AHEAD,

PERHAPS IT'S LATE - THEY HURRY ON,

TO GET TO NEST AND BED.

THEN FROM MY BALCONY I PEERED,

DOWN TO THE STREET BELOW,

AND SAW THE SAME THING ON THE ROAD,

FOLKS DRIVING TO AND FRO.

RUBBER TREE POEM

Rubber has a history that goes way back,

In its natural state it is white not black,

It comes from huvea trees – a Latin name,

But not all rubber is exactly the same.

The Spanish explorers saw the Indians play,

With a ball that was bouncy – it wasn’t clay,

They took a closer look – and saw it was rubber,

What a neat discovery by some land lubber.

The natives hardened it in fire and smoke,

And Mr. Macintosh made a rubber coat,

Cloth and bags and lots of other things,

Were made from latex – that’s what progress brings.

By the way, it got its name from England’s Priestly,

He found that erasing his pencil was easy,

Erasers were sold for a farthing or two,

It was also used for the sole of a shoe.

But it softened or melted when the temperature was rising,

So Charles Goodyear discovered vulcanizing,

He did lots of experiments and added sulfur,

And lo and behold – the rubber would cure.

He made all kinds of things with his invention,

Even a desk – money wasn’t his intention,

Dunlop made tires for new-fangled cars,

Later came golf balls for shooting pars.

When the wars came around, synthetics were needed,

So the Germans and Americans both succeeded,

In making Nitrile, Butyl, Neoprene,

And since that time many others have been seen.

Rubber is used in lots of applications,

Its annual usage is tons and tons,

For transportation, medicine and sports,

Military, industry, products of all sorts.

So we can be grateful, as we sit and think,

That rubber’s just important as the kitchen sink,

And as it’s mixed in the recipe,

Thank God He created the rubber tree!

GOD WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS

“GOD WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS”, SO WILLIAM COWPER WROTE,

SOME HE ELEVATED HIGH, SOME IN YOUTH HE SMOTE,

SOME HE CALLS TO FOREIGN SOIL, SOME TO WORK AT HOME,

ALL TO SERVE HIM IN HIS WILL, UNTIL HIS KINGDOM COME,

WE ONLY WALK BY FAITH, NOT SIGHT, WITH LIGHT FOR PATH AND SOLE,

TODAY IS ALL WE HAVE FOR SURE, BUT TOMORROW’S NO DARK HOLE,

FOR HE KNOWS WHAT’S BEST FOR EACH, AND LEADS US YARD BY YARD,

WE OFTEN STRUGGLE WITH LIFE’S CHOICE, BUT REALLY IT’S NOT HARD,

TO REALIZE WHERE HE WANTS US NOW, IS EXACTLY WHERE WE ARE,

OR ELSE WE’D BE ELSEWHERE FOR SURE, HE’S SHEPHERDED THUS FAR,

THROUGH OPEN WINDOW, OVER HILL, AND AROUND THE BEND,

AND SO HE WILL DIRECT OUR LIVES, UNTIL THE JOYFUL END,

WE’LL SING WITH HIM WHO WROTE THE WORDS, ABOVE AND HERE BELOW,

THAT MEMORIES, HOWEVER SAD, “WILL ONLY BRING A SMILE” WE KNOW,

LIKE JOSEPH, VICTIM OF BAD NEWS, WHEN OTHERS SPOILED HIS PLAN,

THE LORD HAD BETTER USE FOR HIM, IN EGYPT, AS THE MAN,

SO WHEN WE VIEW OUR PAST WITH DOUBT, AND WONDER WHY WE’RE HERE,

WE CAN KNOW HE HAS A REASON, THERE’S NO NEED TO FEAR,

AND ALL WE NEED TO DO IS SERVE, BOTH OTHERS AND THE KING,

BY LIVING RIGHTEOUS HOLY LIVES, AND TO HIM HONOR BRING,

AND ALSO SHARING GOSPEL TRUTH, TO ALL WHO NEED HIS LOVE,

REJOICING, “BRINGING IN THE SHEAVES” TO LIVE WITH HIM ABOVE

WE’LL HEAR HIM SAY, “WELL DONE MY CHILD” – SO HUMBLING A PHRASE,

BECAUSE WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE, IT’S ONLY HE WHO MERITS PRAISE.

COPYRIGHT 2017 BY CARL E GUSTAFSON

This is a new verse to "The Love of God."

COULD WE USE EVERY GIGABYTE,

IN ALL THE TABLETS, PADS AND PHONES,

AND WOULD WE EVERY HOUR WRITE,

AND FILL THEM ALL BOTH DAY AND NIGHT,

TO SHARE THE LOVE OF GOD WITH ALL,

WOULD CRASH THE BEST FIREWALL,

AND PETAFLOPS* WOULD BE TOO SLOW,

GOD’S COMPLETE LOVE TO SHOW.

*A petaflop is a measure of a computer's processing speed and can be expressed as a thousand trillion floating point operations per second. FLOPS are floating-point operations per second.

THE SOWER

A SOWER WENT OUT TO SOW,

WHO HE WAS, WE REALLY DON’T KNOW,

HE SPREAD THE SEED EVERYWHERE,

EVEN ON GROUND THAT WAS TOTALLY BARE.

SO IT IS WITH THE WORD OF GOD,

DON’T WORRY ABOUT THE TYPE OF SOD,

JUST SHARE GOD’S WORD WHEREVER YOU GO,

IT’S JESUS WHO WILL MAKE IT GROW!

SPRING IS SILENT ONCE AGAIN

Spring is silent once again, how could this horror repeat?

The birds don’t sing, the frogs don’t croak,

The entire Eco seems to be broke,

Flowers fade instead of blooming,

What caused this sense of global dooming?

Did man’s technology go too far?

Should we have harnessed more of our star?

The wind still blows with naught to harness,

Turbines couldn’t help us, darn it!

Cars are slowing to a crawl,

Planes from the sky may even fall,

What can we do, is it too late?

We thought we could depend on the state,

But failure followed its persistence,

And we never asked God for His assistance.

The ultimate reason for this demise,

Was a lack of something in the skies,

A simple product we sucked from the blue,

The awful compound called C-O-2!

LOOK AND LIVE

I WILL NOT LOOK, WHAT GOOD IS THIS,

I SAW THE SNAKE, I HEARD IT HISS,

THE BITE WAS PAINFUL, LOTS OF PAIN,

BUT SIMPLY LOOKING HAS NO GAIN,

THE POISON WORKS ITS DEADLY WORK,

TO THINK OF DEATH I’LL GO BERSERK,

I’M MUCH TOO YOUNG, MY SINS WERE SMALL,

I WALK NO MORE – I ONLY CRAWL.

I HEAR SOME OTHERS LAUGHING NOW,

THEY SAY THEY’RE HEALED, BUT HOW?

THEY LOOKED AND SAW THE BRONZE OR BRASS,

AND AS I LAY HERE IN THE GRASS,

PERHAPS GOD HEARS OUR CRIES FOR AID,

I MUST DECIDE BEFORE LIFE FADES,

THEN IT WILL BE TOO LATE FOR ME,

I MUST DECIDE WHILE I STILL SEE.

WOULD SUCH A SIMPLE THING - TO STARE,

AT THE SERPENT IN THE AIR,

COULD IT REALLY RESTORE MY FEELING,

CAN SIMPLE FAITH IN THIS BRING HEALING?

TO LOOK WOULD MEAN I DO BELIEVE,

A GLANCE COULD ALL MY ACHES RELIEVE,

I MUST SEE WHAT GOD HAS PLANNED,

WITH ALL MY STRENGTH I’LL TRY TO STAND.

I’M LOOKING NOW – I SEE THE LIGHT,

HEALING HAS COME – WHY DID I FIGHT?

IT SEEMED TOO EASY – NO WORK TO DO,

HOW COULD THIS PLAN APPLY TO YOU?

BELIEVE WITH ALL YOUR SOUL AND HEART,

THAT’S THE EXTENT, THAT’S ALL YOUR PART,

AND JESUS DOES THE REST, HE’LL SAVE,

HE HEALS, FORGIVES, AND KILLS THE GRAVE,

WHAT HE PROMISED IS ABUNDANT LIFE,

AND PEACE AND JOY IN SPITE OF STRIFE,

EVERLASTING LIFE HE’LL GIVE,

YOU SIMPLY NEED TO LOOK AND LIVE.

JOHN 3:14-15. "AND AS MOSES LIFTED UP THE SERPENT IN THE WILDERNESS, EVEN SO MUST THE SON OF MAN BE LIFTED UP, THAT WHOEVER BELIEVES IN HIM SHOULD NOT PERISH BUT HAVE ETERNAL LIFE."

WIN THE WAR AGAINST TERROR

TO WIN THE WAR AGAINST TERROR, MY SON,

WILL TAKE MORE THAN PLANE OR MISSILE OR GUN,

THEY’RE VERY IMPORTANT, OF THAT YOU ARE RIGHT,

WE NEED WELL-TRAINED FORCES, READY TO FIGHT,

BUT ATTACKING OUR FOES BY LAND, SEA, OR AIR,

EVENTUALLY FAILS WITHOUT LOTS OF PRAYER.

POLITICIANS AND GENERALS AGREE ON THE GOALS,

KNOWING THAT WARS TAKE INCREDIBLE TOLLS,

THEY RALLY THE TROOPS AND THE CITIZENS ALL,

BUT DON’T SEEM TO REALIZE THEIR WEAPONS ARE SMALL,

TINY COMPARED TO GOD’S ULTIMATE POWERS,

WE NEED ONLY TO ASK, HIS HELP WILL BE OURS.

REPORTERS AND CONGRESSMEN, PLEASE PASS THE WORD,

TELL ALL THE PEOPLE – MAKE SURE YOU ARE HEARD,

START PRAYING NOW, DON’T STOP ‘TIL WE WIN,

GET ON YOUR KNEES, DON’T WAIT TO BEGIN,

WE NEED GOD’S ASSISTANCE FOR BATTLES EACH DAY,

A HUMBLING NATION MUST CONSTANTLY PRAY!

THE VANITY OF POLITICS

THE VANITY OF POLITICS IS CLEARLY SEEN EACH DAY,

ELECTED ONES ASSUME THEY’RE LOVED IN EACH AND EVERY WAY,

THEY THINK THEIR POPULARITY IS DUE TO CHARM AND GRACE,

WHO ELSE COULD RUN AND GET THE VOTES IN EVERY SINGLE RACE,

THOUGH WE TELL THEM THIS, THEY’RE IN THE DARK, THEY REALLY DON’T BELIEVE US,

WE HELD OUR NOSE AND VOTED FOR THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS.

I HAD LUNCH THE OTHER DAY AT A RESTAURANT CALLED THE IRISH EXCHANGE. ONE OF THE MENU ITEMS WAS “ME MUDDER’S SOUP” – WHICH PROMPTED ME TO WRITE MY OWN LITTLE POEM FOR “MUDDER’S DAY.”

ME MUDDER’S SOUP IS MIGHTY FINE,

TASTES BETTER EVERY BOWL,

‘TIS LOVE THAT ADDS THE FLAVOR IN,

LIKE VEGGIES FROM THE SOUL.

MEM’RIES SWEET, OF MANY YEARS,

COME FLOODING TO ME HEART,

I TAKE THE SPOON AND DIP IT IN,

THE WONDROUS MEAL DOES START.

WITH EVERY BITE, ME MUDDER’S SOUP,

YES, I’M HER BIGGEST FAN,

BUT WHAT IS THIS, BESIDE THE STOVE?

AN EMPTY CAMPBELL’S CAN!

WHETHER YOUR MUDDER SERVED SOUP AS THE FIRST OF A SEVEN-COURSE MEAL, OR STRAIGHT FROM THE CAN, IT SURE TASTED GOOD. AT LEAST MY MUDDER’S SOUP DID.

CHRIS SHILLIG’S POEM

Chris is a poet, a good one at that,

To honor his talents I take off my hat.

There seemed to be no end to “Trumpy” remarks,

Line after line was filled with his “snarks.”

His form was near perfect, professionally,

But poems must have content as well, don’t you see?

With politics looming on every front page,

Discussion of candidates is all the rage,

And in our great country, free speech is a right,

Rather than fisticuffs, writing’s our fight.

I’m not defending a Trump, Bush, or Cruz,

Come next November, two of them lose.

There’s no end of info about those who run,

So read up and listen about each one.

Make up your own mind, intelligent choices,

Can best be arrived at by hearing all voices.

Though plenty is there to accuse Mrs. Clinton,

I choose to abstain from such low criticism,

It’s better to pray for each candidate,

As well as our nation, it’s still not too late,

For God’s in control, please take note,

And do what is right: get out and vote.

This was posted by Carl E. Gustafson in The-Review – Alliance OH on 01/19/16.

CARL E GUSTAFSON

CARL GUSTAFSON POEMS

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