20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


Negative Begets Negative……

I’m Sure You Know Them

They take the color out of Fall

By negative energy and words


The plaque is on my office wall; meant as a sign of humor. I do try to maintain a very positive, mentoring attitude at work, but I bet you there are times where I contribute to the negative swirl of daily ‘what will go wrong next?’ energy. I try to remind myself of my impact upon others, and their impact upon me. Powerful forces for good or not so good.


Cicada Serenade

 The long days of summer 
           allow me time
   To cut the grass late
        into the evening.

I am accompanied now by
This orchestra of
Insects.  My own cicada

 To many an annoying din
          Of white noise.
     To be shut out with
          Closed windows.

5, 13 maybe 17 years
Waiting to
Sing out loud, called
To the sunset.

   Every tree around me
       Its own ensemble
     Rising and falling
          Almost as one.

It starts in the elm.
Then fading,
The ash takes up the
Rolling line.

   Patience reveals the
     Not of seconds but
      Minutes and hours.

By the honey locust's
Encore, the grass
Is done and the song
Fades into the night.

(c) 2012, Norman Dziedzic Jr.


A Day in the “Life”

The morning holds little promise

dreary, gray, a bit depressing.

Staying in bed later than I should,

hoping the phone doesn’t ring-

it does,

A call that made me cry sweet tears,

A call filled with words I didn’t like,

finally, one of those calls we all dread.


A dreary dark, difficult day,

spent in an emergency room

filled with veterans from many wars.

I wonder what their stories encompass,

If I even deserve to share this time with them,

waiting, waiting, waiting,

for their name to be called,

so they could wait again in a different line.


I am humbled by their patience, the calm

of a room filled with people who didn’t wait

when they were asked to serve.

Another day, another lesson in what it means to serve.




It seems to be the topic today so here is my poem about cancer. It is mostly about my mother’s experience but also about cancer itself. I started to wonder how strange it is that “cancer” if it can be thought of as a thing works so hard to get rid of it’s host and thereby kills itself in the process. So I wrote a poem from the viewpoint of “the cancer” called Patients. It was originally published last month on my blog at: http://bloggernorm.blogspot.com/2012/05/patients.html


     I am here ... patient.
     I am here and I - am - patience.
     I am as patient as bedrock and black and silence.
I.   I am here... and you are not very patient.
     You are life.
     You are motion and energy and noise.

     You are life and you - are - oblivious.

     I am growing ... my patient.
     I am growing so slowly.
     Slowly like trees and canyons and space.
II.  I am growing...and you are slowing.
     You are still life but...
     You are wondering and wheezing and denying.

     You are wondering and you - are - fear. 

     I have exploded ... patient.
     I have exploded and I - am - rapacious.
     I am operating and gorging and mutating.
III. I am exploding ... and you are fighting.
     You are hope.
     You are chemicals and beams and invocations.

     You are hope and we - are - patients.

     We are tired ... fellow patient.
     We are tired and we - are - waiting.
     Waiting for relief and peace and closure.
IV.  I am here ... and we are inseverable.
     We linger.
     We are silence and acquiescence and patience.

     We linger and we - are - gone.


(c) 2012 Norman Dziedzic Jr.

A Pictorial Guide To Bird’s Latest Crisis


Sharing my thoughts through pictures…

Originally posted on Everyone Has A Story...:

Lately, I believe it would be fair to say that I’ve been on the horns of a dilemma when it comes to this blog thing. One thing that I’ve really come to value about writing here is the therapeutic nature of getting my bottled up thoughts out of my head and in front of my eyes, and the eyes of others. It tends to make the monster in my head look smaller and less destructive than I’d originally supposed.


I’ve been dealing with two major problems in my marriage, and as I tend to do, I keep my secrets well guarded. It is one thing to blab my own shortcomings and failures to the world…I’m okay with people taking pot-shots at me, because I embrace my ridiculous mistakes and try to use them as cautionary lessons for others. But when you’re getting into the problems that a marriage goes through…

View original 646 more words


A Battle-Weary Wife


Having a hard day today, and I sincerely wish I could write poetry, because the way I’m feeling, that would have been perfect. Instead, I just wrote about what I’m going through…. Bird

Originally posted on Everyone Has A Story...:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless–it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.” C.S. Lewis

I don’t know if there have been truer words spoken about this emotion we call love. As with everything else in my

Women with Broken Heart

Women with Broken Heart (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

life, satan is very good at delivering meaningful, purposeful blows to my life, and he has taken on my marriage recently.

I am no weak person. Through the storms of life, I have been broken and rebuilt…

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