Sunday, July 18, 2010

Camelot .. poetry


They were days we thought would never end
We were filled with all the wisdom
Fifteen or sixteen years could impart
Our kingdom was just a bus ride away
We navigated the obstacles with the ease of familiarity
We made friends with wondrous ease
We fell head over heels in love,
Sometimes more than once a week
Some of us found lifelong loves and partners
Some of us found lifelong callings and careers
We honed the basic life skills we learned in kindergarten
We found allies and rivals
We understood everything completely differently than we do today
We were living in Camelot and never knew
We called it by its dreaded nom de plume, high school
If it were a lifetime as we surmised,
We have lived more than two others since then
We learned who we are by learning who we were in History class
We learned the whys and how’s of the world’s workings in Science class
We learned the beauty and majesty of life
And how to capture it in English class
We learned that, although everything is life does not,
Everything in Math class does add up
We learned about the caste system in the cafeteria
We learned survival of the fittest in the gym
We learned about serenity in music class
Some thirty-five years has passed
And I can still recall the elations of high school
I can still that aloneness that sometimes came with is as well
I can still summon up the feeling of sitting in front of a blank test paper
I can remember the necessary blandness of cafeteria food
That was the reward of being part of the herd
And that is not a negative thing,
For it helped teach me the value of my uniqueness
I was and am collectively part of the class of ’75, WCHS
It is a label I will wear proudly
On the lapel of my individuality
It is part of who I am
But it is not the sum total of all that I am
Knox, Noble, Renfro, Sweet, Tippett, and Grimes
Scott, Richardson, Jones, and Dye
Will always have their hand in my life
As they tried (sometimes in vain, it seemed) to mold me
Every teacher I have had in my life lives through me
I left Camelot much different than the day I arrived
And I took a piece of Camelot with me

Ron Simpson, Jr.
July 18, 2010

Tuesday, July 06, 2010

Why ?

I don’t love you
Because it is what I am supposed to do
I don’t love you
Because it is what I need to do
I don’t love you
Because it is what I want to do
I don’t love you
For all the reasons I could say
That would be equally true
I love you
Because I don’t know how
Not to love you
That is not to say
That I shouldn’t
Or wouldn’t
Or don’t want to love you
Because I do
I still do not know
How to not love you
I am fine with that

Ron Simpson, Jr.
July 2, 2010

Monday, July 05, 2010


Some words bring vivid images to bear
For me, impact brings a collage of imagery


July 5, 1930
Eighty years ago, a star landed on earth
This star did not hit the earth like an asteroid
Or create the havoc of a falling star
I would imagine, for that era,
There was not much splash at all
Except for family and some close friends
The event went mainly unnoticed by humanity

However, in the heavens, there was notice

It has been eighty years since the first impact
That birth immediately impacted some
And then, weaving a bold, yet intricate thread
It has impacted thousands

A stranger could closely inspect this life
And ascertain that the effect was minimal
Yet, today, there is a multitude,
Impacted by this one single life
Immediate family, approaching one hundred
Church family, in the thousands
Associates, colleagues, neighbors, nearly uncountable

And, his star, shone brightly for them all

Even his casual passing changed people
Such was his impact

Closer to home
I hear him when I talk at times
I see him when I glance quickly at a mirror
I know, when I think about things, I feel his impact

He was the most important man in my life
For all the things people called him
Too some, he was pastor
Too others, he was friend
There were some that called him boss
And other that called him a co-worker
I was, and still am, thrilled to call him ‘dad’

Thank you Dad
For your immeasurable impact
In my life

Ron Simpson, Jr.
July 5, 2010