This is how my blog got started
What is this page all about?
It's about personal commentary and the things you can't or don't bother to express every day. These are serious viewpoints presented in a sometimes light-hearted and frivolous manner to inform, amuse, and generally bring about awareness that is settling - well at least to some people.
Who is Chuck Mistretta?
I work as a contractor supporting internet users. My interest is writing and computing. I bike and do gardening. Married with children for twenty + years, Joel and Laura are working their way through college. Chris and Maren are still making it through the wonder years...
What is poetry?
Poetry is like a puzzle. Everyone owns a piece of the final vision. Unfinished and vague until completion, it almost never conveys its true meaning during construction, and remains dubious to all, even to its creator, until the time is right.
My Poetry:
Rhymes, but is not lite to the occasional reader. It searches for truths and has many different personalities. What is inside of us all, is hidden from all, until we live what is inside of us all. Read the poem below to begin, and above all, live this life.
- The Person There-In
You visit the person therein and say to him...
Don't I know you from some faraway place and time?
Didn't you collaborate on this rhyme?
I don't think so friend, I have better things to do,
Like muse of the misery of man and his zoo.
We barely speak much, nor chat or chatter,
I often wonder what's the matter.
Strangers true we are!
Why have you bothered to travel so far?
I must confess I'm lost without you
and many things have cost me dearly.
For lack of talk with you is my most grievous sin,
and I repent from afar and from within.
Do not snatch at me with remorse,
those lost days of foolishness are of course.
I've been here all along
and died a thousand deaths in solitude forlorn.
Just a glimpse,
Say, look this way today.
I'm here,
I'm ready to begin.
Knowing me is no sin.
_____________________________________
Children telling truths.
Adults finding persecution.
Are of little faith, but chosen.
________________________________________
- What It Is
- Wisdom is
having outlived
our mistakes.
Intelligence is
the capacity
to make them.
The sand, wind blown, nothing said for thousands of years,
Nothing dead for thousands of years, but the word of Him,
Who was, and is, and will be the sand tomorrow.How can man ignore this and His dead who are not dead.
Who was once them and continues to be, ever changing like the dunes.
Who comes back from the hill and gives us warmth.In my simple mind and tangled life I know Him.
But He knows me better, and we laugh together.
The sand changes and is the same. It is here.It is here and we are the spun powder, moving and changing too.
But all at once, to form and uphold the work of Him.
Broken vessels spill the Word and no one knows.Why shouldn't we laugh together, the sand and I?
Verily, nothing matters even when the sand spills again and again.
From today and from tomorrow we live on. We die to become Him._______________________________________________________________
The Hill of Pots is a location of religious historical significance found near Qumran. Here are the
oldest remains of the written bible referred to as the Dead Sea Scrolls.
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