Renewed

Renewed

As it rained today

I went outside to sit

in the back yard

and look for awhile

as the storm

blew in

Wondering, wandering

my soul touched

the wind and rain

and along with the trees

my heart beat renewed

as the wind breathed

new life into the land

The rain

touched me gently

deep inside

and the illusion

of my separation

from life around me

quietly washed away

Dewey Dirks

The Spark

Perfection

Alive

Beauty

Home

Asleep

Sense Of Style

Sense of Style

When I was a young guy

just getting started at being a writer

I happened to meet a fellow

who was a very accomplished guy

He seemed to be able to do it all

Paint, sculpt, write, and make music....

A real renaissance man.

I thought to myself, “That guy's got more talent

in just two fingers than I've got in my entire being.”

I was determined to discover his secret

and so one day when I saw him in the park

I wandered up and started a conversation.

After the small talk was over

and I felt like maybe we'd bonded a bit,

I asked him straight up,

“How on earth did you ever get to be so talented?”

“The guy seemed to ignore what I'd asked him

and instead started telling me a random story.

He said, “I kinda took most of last week off

and sat around thinking

about what I really value

and what way I think is the best way to be.

He stopped talking for a minute.

And just when I thought he was done,

He smiled and continued on......

'Long about Thursday evening

I remembered some stuff I believed when I was six

but kinda had forgotten

and cast aside in the daily rat-race

and fast-paced hustle of life as an adult.

When I was young I decided

the things a person really ought to try to do

is never to harm anyone

and try to be as truthful, honest, and sincere

as they know how to be.

The old guy paused a moment and lit a cigarette

Then he continued on talking

He said, “....And then I thought to myself,

maybe a lot of the time it's more important

to try to do those four things

than it is to try to always appear

cool, flashy and important.

I think what it really often boils down to

in the stuff I do as an adult.

is the question of whether

it's more important to me

to do no harm

and to be truthful, honest and sincere

or appear cool, flashy and important.

And I think I'd rather do the first four

than the last three.

He stopped to take a drag on his cigarette,

and I began to wonder what the point of his story was.

The old guy just continued on undaunted.

He said, “They say the only difference between

the men and the boys is the price of their toys

and I really believe that's true.

Inside us all

we each carry many memories of when we were small

and they help shape who we are and affect everything we do

from the time we're little clear up until we're ninety-two.

A few of the things I can say about me when I was six

is that I really liked things that looked very cool.

And I really liked all the variety in life.

I've always thought it's very, very cool

there's lots of different things

to see and think about.

I was a pretty good kid, but like every kid, I wasn't perfect

and I got into my share of small mischief a time or two. 

By the time I was six, I'd figured out

It was great to be the star of the show when I could.

But things usually went best

when me and my friends

took turns and shared the limelight in our little gang.

By six, I'd learned that just about all of the time

honesty was best

and even when I couldn't be entirely up front,

I knew telling part of the truth was most always much better

than being fake or telling a lie.

At six I loved to learn all kinds of things

and then tell everyone what it was I'd found out.

Of course, I loved to play.

I figured out that play could be a lot of work

and work could be a lot like playing too.

I knew there were times when I could be just a kid

and times when I had to be more of an adult

and I knew both ways could be a lot of fun.

Now that son, is a quick snapshot

Of who I really, really am

And if you look,

you can see bits of that six year old kid

in everything I think, say and do.”

By now, I'd pretty much forgotten

what it was I had asked the guy

And so I said,

“But geeze!  I was a brat when I was a kid.”

The old man, brought me back

to the point of our conversation

when he smiled and said,

“Well, personally, I think it's very good

the world has all kinds of people.

And aren't a lot of really great artist's

like Van Halen and Kid Rock

not much more than great big brats

with a great sense of style?

And I'll tell you a secret---I'd bet if you look closely

At all those bad-ass bikers riding their work-of-art Harley's

All those women and men raising families,

working hard to make ends meet

and all those fighter pilots in their fighter planes.

You can see hints of

a big bunch of runny nose kid's playing

runny nose kid games

who don't want to go home

until an hour after dark.” 

Dewey Dirks

Small Things

Small Things

Just last Wednesday I had a blowout with my wife

When all the shouting and throwing things was done

I figured I'd better get out of the house

Take a walk, I told myself

Let things cool down to a low boil

I walked slowly down the street

To the park three blocks up and three blocks over

There I bought some stale bread at the hot dog stand

Found a bench and sat down by an old man wrinkled and gray

We were quiet for a long while

Throwing bit's and bites of wheat bread

To the pigeon's that wandered by now and then

The old guy had the kind hint of a permanent smile

He seemed quite happy and very content

Got me wondering what advice he might give me

There from the twilight of his life

I said, “Old man, I'll tell you

Life at thirty-two looks pretty damn bad

What makes you so happy

With you in your eighties

And death's door waiting to open just down the street?”

He smiled a little more and said in a voice soft and quiet

“You know, when I was young I wanted a whole lot of things

Later, I learned to want a few things a whole lot

But in the fullness of time I've found

That  much of what has given me

The greatest happiness in life

Can all be put into just one word.”

“And what word is that?” I asked

His eyes sparkled

As he gave a good-hearted bit of bread to a bird

“Linore,” he said

“She is my lady

Linore waits for me at home

In a little while, I'll get up from this bench

And wander on back

I'll probably find her in the dining room

With a calico cat on her lap

When I walk in, she'll look up kindly and say

“Hi baby, how did it go for you today?””

Listen son, Linore is just a tiny little thing

Like me, she has gone very gray

But when I look at her I see

A half a million memories all rolled up inside

Half a million things to think about

Lingering quietly there in her turquoise eyes

They are small things

Stuff you'd hardly mention day-to-day

Things that most people never even notice

Or take for granted and cast aside

But I think about them all day long, every day

In Linore I see ten-thousand kisses

Scattered across fifty-five years

Ten-thousand times her soft hair

Has brushed up against my arm

Ten-thousand times her head has rested on my chest

Ten-thousand conversations

Bright or wise, idle or sad

Ten-thousand jokes and wise cracks

Adding a little happy spice and pepper

To the passing days

Ten-thousand smiles

Ten-thousand “I love you's”

Always from the soul, always good to hear

And at the end of ten-thousand tough days

Ten-thousand cuddles in bed after the lights went out

Ten-thousand times we have taken each others hand

Ten-thousand times I've felt her gentle embrace

Ten-thousand times her face has lifted up my day

Ten-thousand times I've looked in her eyes

And seen the bright spark that dances inside

Small things

Things you'd hardly notice

But if you weave them all together

Across the long, long years

They tell a grand tale

That is epic and eloquent and entirely uncommon

A tale written by two small souls

With two small pens

A story written by Linore and I

That is worth telling over and over again

Now son, you get up and go on home

And when you do, keep to the small things

Keep them handy

Keep them close by

Keep on remembering them

They are what will get you through the long years ahead

They can make your life heroic

A romance that you live every day

If you let them, they can be ten-thousand things

That together

Are so much more than just a bunch of parts

Dewey Dirks

Where You Stand

Where You Stand

In my youth, I asked myself

“What way is best

for people to behave?”

Then one day

my tortoiseshell cat, Carrie

came to get me to stay by her side

when it was time

for her to have her first litter.

I remember her green eyes,

worried and hopeful

as if to ask for a comforting touch.

Then I knew it's best

to have empathy and care

for all souls, animal and human.

Years later, one sad morning

someone hit me hard and vindictively.

I asked life why they would

do a thing like that.

Later that day,

another person confided in me,

“You never really have known pain

until you look someone

you love very much in the eye

and see only the bare glare

of blank daylight gleaming back.”

I knew then humans

strike out only because

of fear, ignorance, or pain.

For many years

I asked, “Is there a God?”

Then one evening I saw

a sunset that bathed me

with a quiet golden air

so beautiful that I wept.

And I knew then

that it doesn't matter

if there's a God or not.

It is sufficient to know

that there ought to be.

Now, it's a fact

questions are as common

as blue June sky.

One of the secrets in life, my friend

is that if you have

the eyes and heart to see

answers are too.

Long ago, I decided

what I wanted most in life

was to learn.

It took me years to realize

that life gives us each

an endless supply

of change, curiosity,

questions, and answers.

It's just up to each of us

to decide to use them.

Leave half a glass of water

setting in the street,

and a few will

stand around arguing

whether it's is half empty

or half full,

till somebody else

wanders by and offers

someone who's thirsty a drink.

Good to know

it's usually more the matter

of where you choose to stand

than of what you go through.

Dewey Dirks