She's the First

By Paul T. Blanchett

I never set out to write a book of poetry. Between the covers of this book, you will find poetry ranging from the silly to the serious, the trivial of life to the profound. In short, it's a journal in meter and rhyme of some of my experiences and interpretations of my ride through time on this spinning big blue marble we all live on. In the end, I decided to title the book She's the First. I did so in dedication to my mother, who is without a doubt the kindest, most thoughtful, patient, and loving person I ever knew.

Having read a lot of poetry myself, I know it can be difficult just to sit down and burn through a volume. Therefore, I have prefaced every poem with a brief narrative and, a simple image to help the reader understand what may have motivated a particular work. The character Forrest Gump told us "Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get." I believe the exact same can be said for poetry. I hope I can make you smile, maybe laugh, maybe cry, and hopefully reflect.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638447955

Book preview

She’s the First

This has always been one of my favorite poems. I keep a copy of it on my phone and read it often. I wrote this poem shortly after my mother passed away. As a rule, I am not an overly emotional person. Let me correct that; I am not an outwardly, overly emotional person. I tend to keep my feelings bottled up, a trait Mother was well aware of. She told me once, You are the poster boy for the expression, still waters run deep. I was like in the fourth grade, had no idea what that meant, but discovered over time that it was apropos. I think some of my family were a little chagrined at my lack of emotion at the time of her passing. Of course, I was upset that she was gone but also knew that she was ready and it was what she wanted.

When she went into hospice, she told us that she didn’t want anyone to visit her because she wanted us to remember her outside the ravages of the cancer that took her away. Of course, though a loving son, I was not necessarily an obedient one. I decided to go by and see her one last time. I should’ve listened to her because when I went into her room, I didn’t even recognize the person lying in her bed. It took me a moment to realize it was even her. Even though I can recall the image, it is not at all my memory of her. My memories of her can never be diminished.

That’s just not how love works.

She’s the First

SHE’S THE FIRST THAT I REMEMBER

AND I REMEMBER MUCH,

SHE’S THE FIRST ONE THERE WHEN I WAS SICK

WITH HER TENDER LOVING TOUCH.

SHE’S THE FIRST THAT I REMEMBER

AND I REMEMBER WELL,

SHE’S THE FIRST WHEN I’D LEARN ANYTHING

THAT I WOULD RUN TO TELL.

SHE’S THE FIRST THAT I REMEMBER

AND I REMEMBER THIS,

SHE’S THE FIRST ONE WHO COULD TURN BACK TEARS

WITH A TENDER LOVING KISS

SHE’S THE FIRST THAT I REMEMBER

AND I REMEMBER WHY,

SHE’S THE FIRST TO EVER LOVE ME

OR HOLD ME WHEN I’D CRY

SHE’S THE FIRST THAT I REMEMBER

THAT I’LL REMEMBER LIKE NO OTHER

SHE’S THE FIRST THAT I REMEMBER

BECAUSE LOVE REMEMBERS MOTHER

(1991)

Bully

This little limerick went through a bit of a rewrite. It was originally titled with the name of a friend of mine’s, son. He wasn’t much of a bully, but when push came to shove, he was inclined to be a bit of a handful. I wrote this for him as a warning—that one day he would try to bully someone and would end up getting his little clock cleaned. I decided to take his name out of it because it really isn’t important about who a bully is but rather what a bully is. I remember when I was a freshman in high school, I was about eighty-five pounds and maybe five feet six, five feet seven. There was only one other kid in the class as small as I was. He was part of the cool crowd and took great pleasure in picking on me with the backup of all the jock types in the cool set. Halfway through my freshman year, I moved out of state for a couple of years and came back to that same school halfway through my senior year. During my absence, I managed to grow to six feet one and 155 pounds. Now I was still no daunting physical specimen, but the other kid hadn’t grown at all. I remember sitting in the cafeteria next to friends I had known before I left when Rich, which was this kid’s name, walked up to the friend sitting next to me at the table and said he had heard that I had returned and wanted to know where I was. I’m sure he was excited to have his victim back; however, his excitement soon abated when my friend turned and looked at me and back at Rich and said, He’s right here. Rich looked at me, completely shocked, said, Oh yeah, I just heard you were back. He turned around and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. It just goes to show you that bullies are really just cowards.

Bully

There’s this bully who thinks he’s a tuff’n’

But really he’s just a fat nuff’n’

Someday he’ll tease someone

And won’t think it’s so fun

When they turn round and knock out his stuff’n’

(1997)

But You Know the Way

This is a poem I really enjoyed writing. I don’t think there’s a believer among us who sometimes doesn’t feel he’s sleeping in his faith a little bit. Sometimes even a lot of bit. We get distracted by our jobs, our families, our friends, our trials, and our tribulations. In John 14:6, Jesus tells us He is the way: I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. I know we all know that Jesus is the way, but He is also the way back. I italicized the way because it’s not just a direction; it’s an instruction and one of the names attributed to Jesus. When we witness to unbelievers, we try to show or demonstrate how Jesus is the way to salvation and everlasting life. I just thought it would be a good reminder that he is also the way back. We are inclined to let our guilt and our distractions keep us away from our relationship with Jesus and the practice of our faith. We convince ourselves that we are strong enough on our own and can walk our path based on what we know. Typically, that path will lead us to a place we don’t want to go. This poem is about knowing He will welcome back His prodigal sons as eagerly as He welcomes His lost sheep.

But You Know the Way

THERE WAS A TIME WHEN YOU CAME TO CHURCH

AND WERE FILLED WITH THE HOLY SPIRIT.

BUT NOW YOU’RE TOO BUSY WITH THINGS OF THE WORLD

AS FOR CHURCH, NOW YOU NEVER GO NEAR IT!

YOU USED TO HAVE TIME FOR THINGS THAT MATTERED

FOR PRAYER AND TIME IN THE WORD.

FOR FELLOWSHIP, THE LAYING OF HANDS,

FOR THE NEEDY AND SICK WHO NEED CURED

YOU’RE NOT REALLY SURE HOW IT HAPPENED

AS YOU DRIFTED STILL FURTHER EACH DAY.

YOU THINK TO YOURSELF, IT’S TOO FAR TO GO BACK

THEN HE WHISPERS, "BUT YOU KNOW THE WAY!"

YOU STOP IN YOUR TRACKS TO MAKE SURE YOU HEARD

JUST EXACTLY WHAT DID THE VOICE SAY?

YOU START TO THINK OF ANOTHER EXCUSE

THEN HE WHISPERS, "BUT YOU KNOW THE WAY!"

YOUR HEART STARTS TO POUND, YOUR MIND STARTS TO RACE

YOU’D LIKE TO RUN, AS YOU FEAR NOW TO STAY.

BUT THERE’S NOWHERE TO GO, NOWHERE TO HIDE

THEN HE WHISPERS, "BUT YOU KNOW THE WAY!"

"HOW CAN I GO BACK AFTER ALL I HAVE DONE,

ALL THE COMPROMISES I’VE MADE?"

YOU’RE FEELING CONFUSED, ALONE, AND AFRAID

THEN HE WHISPERS, "BUT YOU KNOW THE WAY!"

SO YOU THINK BACK TO HIM AND JOY STRIKES YOUR HEART

AND THE LIGHT CASTS THE DARKNESS AWAY.

THEN HIS LOVE CRASHES IN AND YOU KNOW WHAT