Ballet and the Super Bowl Display
Ballet and football have some things in common.
Both stage and field are Divine grounds of the Brahmin.
Watch supreme athletes as they dance.
Extreme coordination and timing.
Behind the curtain, or in full view, there are huddles.
One has a Principal, the other a Quarterback.
Though different types, all deal with contact.
Lakes and Swans imagined, others have real puddles.
You may remember Herschel Walker, or Lynn Swan.
Both used ballet to improve their balance.
Maybe someday there will be a Football Ballet.
Until then, we can watch and pretend.
Most who go to the ballet,
don’t drink while they watch.
Beer companies don’t sell at halftime.
Tailgating is nonexistent.
Catch your partner just in time.
Spin and jump while staying in rhyme.
Music drives every play.
No whistles to say who has lost.
The performance is the only boss.
And so, this Sunday I will watch.
But I wonder if some of these men could contend,
with those other women and men,
to even last, for just one ballet dance?
richardtheoebner 2026
Goodbye 2025 (Resolutions; what are they?)
Another year soon over, and a new one in just days.
There will be celebrations with fireworks in the air.
In New York City, a ball will travel down a tube.
By the ocean, I will sparkle within my own gaze.
Resolution is a heavy word, with many multiple meanings.
I have made several, and broken even more.
Some were of superior importance than others.
So far, I haven’t missed any important business meetings.
Before the evening in question, I’ve been wondering.
I wonder, “Why do we assess value as we do?”
Self-centered, could mean, our centers are out of Balance.
What would enlightening be like, without the thundering?
I have; shelter-food-water-heat-electricity-internet.
Others have little or none of the above I suggest.
I don’t have; money, jewelry, or reliable transportation.
Time, talents, and a resolve about volunteerism, yes!
My fellow writers know, resolution means, story-over.
Time to move on, take a break and stay in the new moment.
The past I can’t change, and the future I can’t know.
I resolve to listen better, stay sober, but not somber.
As 2025 goes, so goes the penny, and food for the wishing-well.
No 99 cents in my future, no Lincoln at my fingertips.
Ah brown penny, brown penny, nothing lives forever.
So, one cannot start living life too soon.
richard ebner 2025
PS: Give thanks to the Butler
We are individuals engaging the power of the word to heal, to respect, and to support each other. Writing is a medium for self-improvement for many of us. We also gather social capital by being a part of this group. Helping others find their way out of their dark woods is adventurous too, to say the least. Let’s entertain the world of words together, for self-discovery or whatever; let’s generate that Affirmation nurtured by sharing our dreams, developing our passions, and designing our destiny. I think you get the idea, and please know, I am glad you’re here!
Instead of cards or presents, I am sending you a Christmas Trilogy of poems. Do with them as you wish. Be safe, be kind, and Merry Christmas.
Is Christmas this or is Christmas that?
Is, this Christmas?
100 million deliveries,
and a hundred-million more to go.
Amazon thrives, while the Amazon dies.
FedEx goes nonstop, as America shops.
Santa turns brown, for UPS ground.
Cameras at the front door watching.
Grinch’s at the front door stealing.
What is this revealing?
In a brick-and-mortar store,
A customer decides to roar!
The cashier can take no more.
Customer-service takes a call.
The voice is not friendly;
aggravated by the stall.
Zuckerberg keeps us friends.
Naughty or nice, those popup ads are the price.
Many invade on every device.
After work parties, galore.
Alcohol is the score.
Drivers, driving tipsy.
Anger comes down the chimney.
Poisonous words are spoke.
Love goes up in smoke.
In a parking lot, one driver steals a spot from another.
Angry words are exchanged—but—this time no guns are drawn.
Peace on earth my brother?
STOP!
Or is this Christmas?
A grandfather finishes a dollhouse.
A granddaughter opens it with her imagination.
They are as one for a time.
Old friends get together.
They catch up,
and not just about the weather.
Lovers make time.
They express their gratitude for each other.
They stay in the moment.
At eighty, a woman’s legs are tired.
A White Christmas covers her walkways.
A neighbor, not hired, clears the snow for her.
Homeless and alone, as too many are,
volunteers provide some food and comfort.
They give more, than the Christmas Star.
A tired worker parks the delivery truck.
Passing by, a stranger stops and gives thanks.
The hot cup of coffee is not a prank.
In the supermarket, the next in line is smiling.
“How’s your day going this time of year? You look tired my dear.”
The answer comes, as the question was sincere.
In a parking lot, a courteous driver waves, and waits for another.
Friendly greetings are shared.
Peace on earth my Brother!
So, that is Christmas.
The Night Before Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring, not even a spouse.
Home and alone for Christmas, as are many more.
Some who have just chosen to shut their door.
And others who have no doors to close, or friends to open them.
In parks, in tents, under bridges, and beneath structures less secure,
many solitary humans wait for nothing, and struggle to endure.
Others still, may have shelter from the storm, but no solace in their heart.
There are lovers choosing separation, and those forced to be apart.
The first year of a great loss, this is perhaps the hardest time for all.
Too soon to focus on joyful memories, and too close to the fall.
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring, not even a spouse.
Home and alone for Christmas, as are many more.
Some who have just chosen to shut their door.
And others who have no doors to close, or friends to open them.
I think I will wrap myself warmly, find a stranger, and bring them gifts:
my time and me.
December 24, 2023 3:06 P.M. Found my stranger
Drove past him twice,
on the way to the supermarket,
and on the way back.
Didn’t see his sign on the way there,
and only read it after passing back by.
“[IN DESPERATION: Please help if you can]”
A block away I stopped my car,
grabbed a few bucks from the visor,
and walked back to meet my stranger.
He was surrounded by canvas bags,
some more worn than others,
but all had definitely traveled some.
I said, “Hello,” and handed him the cash.
I was thanked with handshake and smile.
“Steve,” he said. “Bless you.”
“I’ve been homeless myself,” I told him.
“Doesn’t it suck?” Steve piped back.
He talked some, about his life’s journeys.
I listened; fisherman, farmer, fryer, framer and more.
I asked him what was next.
He said he was hitching north.
There might be a friend who could take him in.
We said our goodbyes,
and as I walked back to the car,
I heard him shout, “God Bless You!”
No, God Bless You, my Stranger,
I thought!
So, what is Christmas?
So, what is Christmas, and why do I care?
Is there really joy and peace anywhere?
My parents were atheists, and yet we lit trees.
They gave us presents intended to please.
Our family knew Jesus was born in June.
But no one cared that we celebrated too soon.
For my Papa, it was all about music, especially Handel’s.
Mother found her joy while lighting the candles.
Carolers were never considered noisome pestilence.
No bibles needed, as harmony was their only testament.
My parents are gone now, but Christmas lives on.
Some open gifts on the eve, and others at dawn.
So, what does it mean, and why do I care?
Cynically, commercialism is everywhere.
Only, 5 more days; then 4, 3, 2, one.
Everyone got their shopping done?
Is it really? “All about the economy, Stupid!”
Or when under the mistletoe, is it Cupid?
Truth be told, it is only whatever you do.
There is no need for saviors, but there’s a need for you.
Help a neighbor, and yes, do have fun.
Pay it forward and you will have won.
Merry Christmas.
richard ebner 2025 Stay safe and be well.
Click on the book to order a copy. Doc was fascinated by this author arriving at his door atop the twelve marble stairs to his office years ago.
The following is a review from a retired nurse: “I finished reading ‘Saving Papa’s Tails.’ by Richard Ebner.
Mother Dearest at times, had a sensitive caring side.
She praised me even when I failed, as long as I tried.
And when I succeeded, her smile showed her pride.
But when she started drinking, her goodness would hide.
So many sad Storytime’s for so many of us to tell.
Only so many times can you drink from alcohol’s well.
Eventually, Mother Dearest’s stomach began to swell.
After that, those in Wine Valley had nothing to sell.
When you have a cold, often you need to sneeze.
When someone is an alcoholic, it’s called a disease.
Avoid the judgement and just offer help, Please!
I hope your Mother stories are mostly joyful.
And that is the best focus for this Mother’s Day.
richard ebner revised 2025
Hello, this is Richard Ebner, renowned dog whisperer, finish carpenter, poet, and author. If you are interested in developing your writing skills with us, let us know. We have a unique subcultural network of writers and authors supporting each other’s endeavors as we travel along our journey.
Thinking?
Yesterday, sitting on these stone stairs by the bay,
I looked out at the ocean and thought,
how’d I get here today?
Born in NY, some 380 miles away,
I wasn’t thinking, that I would sought,
Rockland, ME, as a place to stay.
We are not where we live, or where we’re born,
and yet, I can’t forget,
troubles in my travels, leaving me feeling forlorn.
Ultimately, we are all alone, with or without a home,
because no others can know our self-doubts,
and what we might use to silence the gnome.
Just say no, is for some a never-ending disaster,
which, repeats, and reinforces our failures,
causing us to let something else be the master.
Whatever you are doing that causes you alarm,
change and reduce that, a little each day,
as ultimately you will be lowering self-harm.
So, then when you sit on the rocks by the bay,
You won’t be just wasting your time away,
wondering why you can’t do what ten others say.
Sittin’ here resting my bones,
And finally, the loneliness leaves me alone.
It’s three-hundred-eighty miles I’ve roamed,
just to make these rocks my home.
richard ebner 09/23/2025
Thought of the Day
“The real Stoic success strategy, as Marcus Aurelius and countless others have shown, is rooted in character: cultivating integrity, kindness, and purpose in all that you do. When you focus on being a good person—someone others trust, admire, and want to support—you’re not just building a career or a reputation, you’re building a meaningful life.”…
Keep readingA Quote for Today
4/23/25 “I’m more human than most of us” – Doc L 3/17/25 “Celebrate what you have accomplished, but raise the bar a little each time you succeed.” Mia Hamm “Our humanity rests upon a series of learned behaviors, woven together into patterns that are infinitely fragile and never directly inherited.” – Margaret Mead “We can’t…
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