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More Thoughts, Rhymes, and Tymes (2nd Edition)

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More Thoughts, Rhymes, and Tymes (2nd Edition) - Page Text Content

S: More Thoughts, Rhymes & Thymes - Nix Volume Two

FC: More Thoughts, Rhymes & Thymes | Surfing the Mind of B. Jesse Nix, Sr.

1: Presenting in Order of Title Length | Fate O Vau Four Years Two Queens Spencer's Heritage A Precious Breed And Nothing to Gain The Weakling's Lament Citation to Accompany the Award | 2-3 4-5 6-7 8-10 12-15 16-17 18-27 28-31 32-33 | Cover Photo by Bryan Jesse Nix, Jr. - Cape Cod Sunset, Brewster, Massachusetts

2: Fate My little son lies still today While other boys and girls play. Mindless fate--oh tell me why— Chose these, our lives, its goods to ply. Others pass but pay no heed. No sadness comes; there is no need To share another's galling grief. Cares sad moth for curling leaf? We make our way up paths we choose To climb the heights, the depths to loose Forever from our sights, and one by one The peaks attain to find we've only just begun. My only child lies still today While other children gaily play. Oh, mindless fate, I know you'll ply Your heartless trade 'till I, too, die. | ~2~

3: Pioneer Monument - Location Unknown (Unattributed Internet Photo)

4: Tubuai, Austral Islands, French Polynesia - 27 August 1965

5: O Vau O Vau te Hoe Taata O tei I Roa i te Ata. Aita i Au te Utu Tautau. A Haamori na to Mata. | ~5~

6: Four Years "Only four years," they once said to me, "To fulfill your dreams through ROTC. There's glory, advancement, and travel galore. There's respect, esteem, and, oh, so much more." "Others will envy your new suit of blue. Crowds will fall back to let you pass through." (Crowds of dissenters to oaths that they swore. Crowds of deserters from Vietnam's war.) They're looking for pilots. There is such a need For soaring, young eagles of patriots' seed. They're looking for leaders, for men who stand bold In the face of defeat and hardships untold. Yes, the face of defeat. You heard it right. Defeat of a nation unwilling to fight. Defeat of a man excess to the needs Of a cowering people of encumbered creeds. "Only four years," they now say to me. "In our learned wisdom we must set you free. You've had glory, advancement, and travel galore. For that be you grateful. We need you no more." | ~6~

7: Brigham Young University - Air Force ROTC - 1965

8: TWO QUEENS If life can be thought of as some sort of game, And the game could be any that I care to name, Then I'd call it "Hearts”. Yes, that's what I'd choose— A short game of chance that you win or you lose. There's the time that I took neither right nor left hand, But instead chose to follow the crest of the land, To make my own way. How could I know That the way had been cleared on the hillside below. Or the time I said, "No”, when I should have said, "Yes." When I knew the right answer but I had to guess. Or the time that I kept on another long mile To earn a reward that was gone all the while. You'd think at my age that the lay of the land Would be mine long since mastered. But often fate's hand Reaches out of its shroud, gnarled, calloused, and lean, and turns down a heart. Then, I take the Queen. | ~8~ | (cont'd)

10: They say that all things must work out for the good, That strength comes from trial. I wish I could Always be the one who steps out of the fire, Bright, clean, and pure as an aging, gray friar. But life has been kind in its own special way. No matter the name of the game that we play, The years pass us by. The older we get, In the light of our joys, our sorrows forget. Through no fault of my own I may crawl through the dirt. My plans may be dashed; my pride may be hurt. Yet, still in the darkness a light can be seen, Held high in the hand of a more worthy Queen. | ~10~

11: Manti, Utah, 29 May 1970 Photos by Revoir

12: SPENCER’S HERITAGE A proud father once knelt, many years before, And blessed the wife who bore his child— A girl so sweet and tiny, so very tiny, And warmed upon the oven door. They brought new life, these pioneers. Their way was hard. They worked for years And gave their own the blessings wrought from tears, Their tears, and those of countless more. Their gift was love, a lavish gift--a gentle hand, A kindly word, the good of life, A thankful prayer. How simple, yet how lasting. A heritage of priests and kings, of winsome smiles, Of happy things. Their goal, well met, to leave Behind something grand, something noble, Something pure that memory brings. | ~12~ | (cont'd)

13: Spencer James Nix - Augsburg, Germany - Fall, 1981

14: A life of love, full measure gave to others As to her was given. A life of service, care and aid To weak and weary, those in need. A better life, A brighter way, the morning of a heavenly day. In heaven wide and vast and deep A prayer is heard for those who weep, Who do not understand. For on this day a son is raised for all to see, Before the world, before the throng of humanity. What he shall do, what he shall be, We know with no uncertainty. How can he but, like those before, those pioneers, That tiny child, those chosen few, rise up anew And claim eternity? | ~14~

15: Spencer James Michael Nix - Fredericksburg, Virginia 11 September 2009

16: A Precious Breed "Black, get back!" They hear us say. "Brown, stay down!" Yet still they play. Children are a friendly breed. A simple smile is all they need. These little ones, they haven't learned To hate the hue a face has turned. To them, the color of a friend Has no effect, does not offend. It's what we do and what we say That changes them and how they play. They grow into a surly breed And learn to serve, each one, his need. To us, once children, added years Brought increased wisdom, bitter tears. May these first days our children live Teach us, instead, our love to give. "Yellow, good fellow!" We hear them say. "Red, come ahead! Come on, let's play!" Children are a precious breed. Of them the world has special need. | ~16~

17: Lindsay Goodman, Kenneth Nix, LisaRuth Nix, Kayla Goodman, & PB Salt Lake City, Utah - August 2004

18: And Nothing to Gain The end was approaching. We knew, short of poaching, That this would be the last time To go out and try, with lean, steely eye, To bring down a moose in its prime. Five-thirty, you said, I should be out of bed To meet you in front of my place. (I remembered the last time—it happened so fast! I still slept; and you won the race). Faye, bless her heart, woke me up. With a Start, I dressed quickly, not one to be late. The checklist I followed, but ere I had swallowed A bite you were there at my gate. Myrtle was eager, but her condition, so meager That your truck must serve us this day. Her intentions were good. Yet, I knew that I would Someday haul poor Myrtle away. | ~18~ | (cont'd)

19: International Harvester, 3/4 Ton, BD-220 Roadside, Vicinity of McKinley National Park

20: The fresh-fallen snow reflected the glow Of our lights as we crushed it aside. We plowed through the dawn. Desperate hope drew us on For a moose at the end of our ride. There, up ahead, in white silence, as dead, Lay a jeep, overturned, to the shame Of the driver who'd gone. Yet, his deed lingered on. Was he hurt? What was his name? He must have been going too fast or not slowing In time for that treacherous curve. (We knew that our luck would protect your fine truck No steel statue would weaken our nerve!) | ~20~

21: You expertly guided the wheels as they glided Along the vague wilderness road. How could we suspect the false path would deflect Us? No way! (Last night it had snowed.) You expertly guided the wheels as they glided Along the vague wilderness road. How could we suspect the false path would deflect Us? No way! (Last night it had snowed.) | ~21~ | McKinley Range, Alaska - 2004 | (cont'd)

22: The cool air was sweet. How we'd wanted to meet The game that so sorely we sought. But then up, not right, I saw morning's first light. And our plans had fallen to naught. "Friend Larry*," I swore, "only moments before Side by side, as hunters, we ranged.The fresh-fallen s But hanging here now, I marvel just how Quickly our status has changed." I saw, glancing down, a thin smile mask a frown As a question spread over your face, "Now, what would you say if, for the rest of the day, We hunted our moose in this place?" Until you applied your boot to my side, I could do nothing but hang in the air. The belt was so tight that, try as I might, I couldn't get free from that chair. I pushed up the door while you helped me still more, 'Til at last I climbed out of that place. It wasn't too bad. (Bet you wished that I had Found a steadier step than your face!) | ~22~ | (cont'd)

23: Moose Warning Sign - Between Anchorage and Fairbanks, Alaska - 2004

24: The damage was light. Though it seemed that we might Still drive it, I asked if you knew Of some strange, clever way to help make it stay Afloat in a caved-in canoe. What was left of our luck surfaced soon as a truck Stopped and offered to lend us a hand. In no time at all we had put through a call For help on his citizens' band. Others who came would all ask the same, "Someone hurt or blood that needs mopping?" To this you would say, as they paused on their way, "No, but thank you for stopping." How quickly we let our weak memories forget. How soon we forgive that sad plan. When, let me guess, the chaplain, no less, Drives up in a Japanese "can". The skeptic was there and wanted to share His thoughts, but none of his brains. What we surely would need, he said, to proceed Was a winch, a Mack truck, and four chains. | ~24~ | (cont'd)

25: Photos Taken While TDY - Anchorage, Alaska - 2004

26: An hour had passed when we'd finished at last With the cable and double chain hitch. We soon had it down, both rear tires on the ground, But the front end was still in the ditch. A little more work and a strong, sudden jerk Had us back on the road once again. We examined the wreck and shrugged, "What the heck? Several hours of daylight remained." We drove on our way. For the rest of the day We searched from Eielson to Skyline Drive. We crashed through the trees, crawled on raw, bloody knees, But found nothing—dead or alive. The lean wolf in his lair filled the still, evening air With his echoing cry. He knew we came Into his land unfit, to test our hand Against nature and gloried in our shame. | ~26~

27: Photos Taken While TDY - Anchorage, Alaska - 2004

28: The Weakling's Lament I wanted to wear one of those special coats Worn by those who eat wild grain and oats – A jacket of blue trimmed with gold to wear proudly, To proclaim my skill and my manly deeds loudly. I went out for wrestling. It seemed sure enough To pick on a small guy to prove I was tough. I bought me a weight set to put in my room I planned to work out and watch muscles bloom. They gave me a singlet, which fit rather snugly. I looked in the mirror and smiled rather smugly. I had it all down. I was ready to go. I had mastered the moves that I needed to know. Adrenaline flowed like a runaway train As I shook the hand of an ape with no brain. He drooled down his chin and looked in my eye, Then tore off his ear. I was going to die! | ~28~ | (cont'd)

29: Wiesbaden High School Tour Tallinn, Estonia - Lenin Museum - March 1989

30: He pulled off my arm and ripped off my face And squeezed something dear I could never replace. He tied me in knots and sat on my back. That's all I remember before it went black. The siren was loud. The doctors were grim. The chances the nerves could be healed were slim. With plaster of Paris and super strong glue, They did all that medical science could do. I turned in my singlet and put on some weight And watch lots of TV and go to bed late. My muscles are scrawny. My eyes I keep low. I stay in the shadows wherever I go. When a Wiesbaden Warrior passes me by In the halls by my locker, I try not to cry. I reached deep inside but found nothing there. A letterman's jacket I never will wear. | ~30~

31: Wiesbaden High School Tour Moscow, Russia and Tallinn, Estonia- March 1989

32: Commissioning Ceremony - Brigham Young University ROTC - May 1971

33: Citation to Accompany The Award Citation to accompany the award Of a man who was caught by the board. He received a commission— A careless omission. Drum him out with a note of discord. | ~33~

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Bryan Nix
  • By: Bryan N.
  • Joined: over 8 years ago
  • Published Mixbooks: 9
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About This Mixbook

  • Title: More Thoughts, Rhymes, and Tymes (2nd Edition)
  • Opa's Poems Vol 2
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  • Published: about 8 years ago