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Sunday, September 27, 2015

What colors Humanity? Published 1-27-2015 / Pope Francis hashtag?

Every day


People are in danger!
“Every Day”
People are Hungry!
“Every Day”
People are dying
In some kind of way
UN necessarily!
“Every Day”
Some are homeless
Some are rich
For some it’s sickness
For some it’s a bitch!
I look right at it and wonder why?
It has to be this way?
Why are there those who prosper?
And those who suffer?
“Every Day”
Why is there no happy medium?
Why does it have to remain this way?
“Every Day”
Bob Jenkens




I did Drywall work for St Mary's church at the lakes (Which I was attending). one of the office's belonged to Father Joseph Krupp.
Father Joe called me one day from out of no where asked me to do the work. I shared stories with him while I spent several weeks there. I enjoyed having lunch with the Father listened to his stories. Examining them to try and figure out why I've been asked to do this.
Thinking back to when I had ben asked to take part in a play at Sacred heart church in Hudson Michigan. I did well at maintaining eye contact with the whole congregation. After word at confession I confessed to the Father that I felt guilty. "I use to do a morning show on a radio station. I use to do food drives and fill rental trucks with food for shelters". I was in the public eye and I felt it was my purpose in life to help poor people. "I'm a poor person (I told the father) now it's like I'm just hiding working as a roofer". Why did you get up there and read? he asked me. Because they asked me to I replied. He told me if God wanted me on the radio I would be on the radio. He instructed me Just do what God asks you to do. When Father Joe called and asked me to do some work at the church It's like it was God directly asking me. Of course I said yes. Between primer coats and paint in Father Joe's office I wrote...

The sign of the cross

Square pegs don't turn
prayers hope and faith
into round about dreams
Hold true on to you
The Father Son and Holy Spirit




I wonder if it's bled through the paint.

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Gavins first day of preschool today

No call from the school yet..lol
Gavin was excited to start school today.
He woke up at six a.m ready to go.
Put his shoes on while he was still in his underwear.
Wants to ride the bus...

Having lunch at steaks eatery Jackson Michigan.

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

monarch butterfly just past me

Maybe my life's moving to slow.
I've been past by two monarch butterflies
In two days.
Yesterday and today....
Driving down a dirt road
Real slow yesterday.
And got past quickly
By a monarch butterfly.
Did you see that?
I asked Gavin
"we just got past by a butterfly".
Hasn't been 24 hours
Driving the sky track
I just got past
By another butterfly.

Maybe my life's moving slow...
Maybe it's time to crack this cocoon
Take off flying...


Bob Jenkins

I wrote this on my lunch break.
After lunch a butterfly landed
on my tool belt. Hmm

Monday, September 7, 2015

The Write Way: PRO LIFE

The Write Way: PRO LIFE: PRO LIFE Which way is up?   And which way is down? Which way is Heaven?  And which way is Hell? Is the world really round?  Or just...

What colors Racism?


 
How do you spell Panellipi?
Is it with two l's
and two beautiful brown eyes?
Panellipi's not a real 
she's a fairy tale
with olive skin
Still
subject to racism
the sweetest little voice
"You have to write this story for me "
but your beautiful panellipie
like a double rainbow
"You don't know" panellipi says
"what it’s like to have brown skin
or this way that I talk
People look down on me."

"You are a humanitarian
you must write you for me".
How do I spell
Penelope

I'm a roofer
Penelope
i do have brown skin
a poor person
painted by the sun.
Under hard labor
Still
subject to racism
I do know
what it’s like
to be looked down on.
Even from a roof top
when I shine up
people still look down
on me
to extinguish my eminent glow.



Bob Jenkens


With no internet capabilities I had to get on line using Wi-Fi @ McDonalds. I used the East Michigan dd donalds in Jackson Michigan because it came with a play land. Raising a four year old boy on my own the distraction of play land Gave me a minute to log into kindle direct publishing to update my kindle books, work on my author page at Amazon.com or post a blog on my blogger page. My son Gavin is on the cover of my kindle book “will write for food” first published in December of 2013 it was a desperation shot at survival.
  Today Gavin is playing with a young girl. 
I wasn’t sure who she was there with. 
The woman next to me was with a boy they were working on his school work. I heard her tell him at one point “I let you bring a friend with you, do your work so you can go play”. His friend is the girl Gavin is playing with. Emotionally I hear the boy tell her “reading is stupid”! With  Anxiety eating at the boy she would take him outside walking around the building talking him down. As I sat inside and they past I couldn’t help but watch her. She wore a sweater like a skirt, a belt high up on her hips highlighting her thin waist.
She had long dark hair and Olive skin. She wore some little fashionable boots with heals. She was simply beautiful! When they came back inside she told him I’ll go get some ice cream then we’ll do your work.
I was hesitant to do it but when she left I took my lab top to where the boy sat. I said to him “maybe I have no room to say but reading is important”. I had my kindle direct page up. I’ve published three books at Amazon.com. And I never wanted to read. My dad can’t read my grandpa couldn’t read why. Why do I need to know? “That’s what I always thought”. I told him a story of when I was in the fourth grade Mrs Robolds class. She released the class for recess she told me to stay sat me on a chair and told me “you are going to have to learn to read”. Shouldn’t a fourth grader be reading? I told the boy I was late to learn a lot of things. Can’t you see what’s important to your mom? She returned to see me talking to her son. I explained to her I have three books at Amazon.com. I explained to her they are just poems. I opened my books up and I let her read. Not from Amazon.com but from my book shelf at Kindle direct publishing. 
 She read from “what color’s humanity” as she read I shared my life inspiration that inspired the piece.  I explained to her I am just a poor white man and single dad. My life hasn’t been easy. I’ve had things happen to me in my life that made me question if there is a God. Those instances steered me in my life and as painful as they were for me then I see them now playing out in my life. She began questioning me. "Why are you raising a baby by yourself? Where is his mom? He didn’t come with a mom I told her. She wanted to abort him. I was inspired to write a poem called  Prolife "I showed her the cover to my will write for food kindle book. That’s Gavin on the cover. She reads more, wants to know what inspired me to write each piece…. “It’s my struggles” I told her that’s what I write about. I told her I don’t know too much about racism that I feel discriminated against every day for being a single dad. I wouldn’t call it arguing but she disagreed with me. She told me “you don’t know what it’s like to have brown skin or this way that I talk people look down on me”. But you’re beautiful I told her. I went back to my child hood how I had been bullied. My whole life for being small I told her Gavin and I are homeless that I feel we’ve been bullied homeless pushed from our home by judges, department of social services even Lenawee county sheriffs bullied us.. Why? For being poor.  I do know what it’s like to be looked down on and I explained to her how my struggles translate into a poem. Again she told me as she grabbed me by my shoulders “you are a Humanitarian, I cannot even believe you are in front of me! "you have to write you" she told me. "This is what you have lived for this is you.” We must have spent four hours talking She asked me to write something for her. She said Write it for the poor people Scott this is you. After four hours as strangers we knew each other but I never asked her name. I asked her name as she left she told me "Penelope".
 I wrote this for her… she asked me to. She raised the question to me. What color is racism?

What colors racism?
How do you spell Panellipi?
Is it with two l's
and two beautiful brown eyes?
Panellipi's not a real name
she's a fairy tale
with olive skin
subject to racism
the sweetest little voice
"You have to write this story for me "
but your beautiful panellipie
like a double rainbow
"You don't know" panellipi says
what it’s like to have brown skin
or this way that I talk.
You are a humanitarian
you must write this for me.
How do I spell
Penelope

I'm a roofer
Penelope
i do have brown skin
a poor person
painted by the sun.
Under hard labor 
Still
Subject to racism
I do know
what it’s like
to be looked down on.
Even from a roof top
when I shine up
people still look down
On me
to extinguish my eminent glow.


Bob Jenkens