From whence came her fury, from whence the angry dame,
From whence came devotion of her hatred for my name?
From whence divorce decree, from whence the corporal taming,
From whence her crooked smile at the pleasure of me flaming?

How quickly did I fall for her
Skipping hand in hand?
And blessed the eve I slipped my finger
Through my wedding band?

Four days late she said your vows
And then with malice creeping
Crushed my genteel heart right through
My chest with all her leaping!

Money, houses, cars and sex
Yet never was she full
Drowning me in monstrous wakes
Behind her barren hull.

Eternity those three years were
Til she freed me from her wrest
Blissfully I watched her leave
Keeping future years the best.

Today I shall not speak her name
Unless my heart is burning
Of unsung praise and gratitude
For all my treasured learning.

* * *

Shane Anderson / Copyright 2005

How many years now I count on two hands

We climbed aboard this timeless carousel

Your eyes so full of fright and life

I could hold you then with one hand

And you knew all safe and sound

Those painted ponies gliding fast

All a blur and pastel in my mind’s eye

But my gentle princess was loved

This king bleeds now from his side

Longing for life to take its course

One more glimpse of you, my dear

Do you remember this gray-haired man?

Once a hero in your tiny hand

I mean you no trouble and doubt

How truly better I could have made

Your life and all that you are today

Too short our years here to spend

In struggle and strife waging war

Against vows our mouths’ spoke

Say yea, so we build our home or

Say nay, and I will wait again for

One more pass to come ’round in time

Can you love me now? Could you understand?

What a burden to bear all alone, and

How I’ve held your memories so frail

Within the fabric of fatherhood

Breaking the course of a generation

Is not an easy task and I fast

That these demons would leave us be

* * *

Copyright 2005
A poem concerning current broken relationships.

The last place I took Madison, my 1-year-old daughter, was the carousel in The Woodlands Mall. This poem was written in memory of that day, using the concept of a carousel as a metaphor, hoping and dreaming to one day see her again.

Hey now, there’s a little bit of money
Don’t know ’bout you but I think it’s kinda funny
Never knew how, don’t know why,
Doesn’t seem to matter how hard we try

Looking back, I guess we say we made it,
Don’t know ’bout you but I’m feeling kinda jaded
Everyone keeps talkin’ how I won’t be true
All I ever wanted was to be with you

City lights shining, though its dark on ahead
Night-time’s coming just remember what I said,
Further from the city star lights shine
Remember when you’re lonely that you’ll always be mine

Look up in the sky see its dark up above
stars shining bright remind me of our love
beauty from afar though its all we’ve known
reflections in the sun cause our dreams to grow

Rain drops fall from the clouds in the sky
run into the rivers from the mountain sides
well, the ocean’s awfully full, the desert’s mighty dry,
the river running ‘tween us is our sure supply

All the dust that has settled and the dirt in our eyes is
from a land that we pass on the way to paradise
Tide waters rise at the end of the day
River’s overflowing wash us all away

And I don’t know how, I don’t know why
Never seems to matter how hard we try

Look up in the sky see its dark up above
Stars shining bright remind me of your love

The ocean’s awfully full and the desert’s mighty dry,
But the river running ‘tween us is our sure supply

* * *

Strong as flint, soft as clay stands the image of this man
whose presence held the walls in place and made this home to stand
with unfailing confidence, he built a legacy
of memories and tender thoughts that fill our family’s tree

With strong arm and sweaty brow, he worked to make all right
so that the wife for whom he lived might gently sleep at night
and the playful hand that held each child safe b’neath his care
was the graceful hand of charity to whom all he did share

Constant were this man’s eyes, calm and full of peace
but modest wisdom lay within deep as green-blue seas
and when assailing storms blew in causing fear and doubt
to this man we all looked for strength to help us out

Victory this man gained o’er many challenges and strife
for prayerfully he looked to Christ to help him through his life
and though our memories of him will stand throughout the years
we all now must say goodbye with heartache and with tears

A simple joy this man found, to feed the birds each day
his quaint and peaceful garden was where they came to play
even to the lowly birds, this father was a friend
but Easter morn they all took flight, moved upon the wind
born upon the cool spring breeze o’er cloud and vast blue skies
the birds now sing their songs of thanks to him in paradise.

* * *
Shane Anderson / Copyright 2000

Dedicated to my grandfather, James Earl Bratsen.
Passed Easter morning, April 23, 2000.

This Man is the first poem I ever wrote. It was read as a remembrance poem during my grandfather’s funeral at Queen of Peace Catholic Church in La Marque, Texas. The day he passed is known as Easter Sunday Tornado Outbreak because over 36 tornadic events all occurred that same day spanning Southeast Oklahoma, through Southwest Arkansas, Northeast Texas, and across Northwest Louisiana.