“Images of God” is now available!

My 6th book, “Images of God” is now available on Amazon. It is a collection of inspirational poetry and photographs. I have published it in two versions – black and white (seen above) and color.

Here is a link to the black and white version –

https://www.amazon.com/Images-black-white-Betsy-Nelson/dp/1548191027/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1498665462&sr=8-2&keywords=images+of+God+betsy+nelson

The color version is more expensive due to the publishing process that has to be used.

Here is a link to it –

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Invisible war wounds – poem

My Dad had PTSD,
invisible war wounds
from a war
he never left home for
in fact, he had to
leave home
to leave the war.

He was a son of a veteran
who brought the war home
in his pockets,
in his perfectionism,
in his need for things to be
just so
and it never was,
because it never could be.

Gone were the days
of an innocent youth,
it never happened.
He was trained by an incompetent,
unwilling
drill sergeant,
masquerading as Dad.
He was living in an army
he never enlisted for,
was shanghaied
simply by virtue
of being born.

Poem for a not-so-happy Mothers’ Day

If Mother’s Day is hard for you –
because your Mother has died,
because your Mother didn’t know how to love you,
because you always wanted to be a mother but couldn’t,
because you are a Mother and your children are dead, or cruel,
Then take today to rest and restore your soul,
to re-Mother yourself,
to show yourself that You are valuable.
Do something in honor of the Idea of Motherhood –
be creative, and kind, and selfless, and giving
to someone else
especially if they are hard to love.

grubs in the basement mix-up poem

Nick Bantock has a technique where you take two random paragraphs out of two random books, highlight all the nouns, and then swap them out. Sometimes you end up with something interesting. Sometimes you have to tweak it a little to make it make sense. This “found poem” is composed from “The Man in My Basement” by Walter Mosely and “The Shade of the Moon” by Susan Beth Pfeffer.

Mrs. Evans, my day, she was real nice, Ruby said.
Bags knew we was going to be trash.
We didn’t have a weeds to be bags else,
and there’s fast wrong with grubber coffee.
But Mrs. Evans said beans should be
proud of the polenta we did.
She said everybody’s good at meal.
She said a tray was good at telling floors and raising her room,
but chamber wasn’t any good at being married.
Bedroom made me feel better about table,
because my piecework loves each other so much.
They’re always hugging and kissing,
and Mamma says they never go to tray mad at each other.
So maybe they’re table,
but they’re still better than Mrs. Evans at being married.
Aren’t you tired, Mr. Jon?
You could get into the window with me.

That was one of the hardest teachers I ever put in.
Twelve thirty-nine-gallons of plastic grubs and dead chance.
I only had two empty nothings left.
In the nothing I broke my work
with instant work,
baked something,
and quick-cooking stories.
I carried the kids on a tray up to
the third parents,
to my mother’s sewing bed,
which was a small grub off her.

Pledge – poem

I don’t pledge allegiance to the flag
it is a piece of fabric
after all.

I pledge allegiance
(I stand behind, I agree with, I commit myself to)
the idea that the flag
represents
that we are a nation
united.
(One, whole, complete)
Stronger together.
United in our belief
that all people
are created equal
(all people, all races, all creeds, all abilities)
and they are endowed
(gifted, granted, made)
by their Creator
(the One who made them)
with rights that cannot be removed
from them,
rights so essential to their being
that they, that we,
aren’t people without them.

So I don’t pledge allegiance to the flag.
I pledge allegiance to us,
united,
and whole.

Wander poem

Lost your Wander mojo?

Did the cold weather make it go?

Too much holiday, not enough time?

Too many expectations on your few dimes?

Stop what you’re doing and go outside

Stand in your yard – don’t go for a ride.

Look right now – what do you see?

A robin? A cardinal, a chickadee?

Perhaps you notice the trees have buds,

Perhaps you notice more grass than mud.

Its coming – its here!

Our spring has arrived!

So go walk around in your yard

and feel so alive!

Poem – to wander

To wander is to go forth,
eyes and heart open
into the unknown.
It doesn’t have to be in the wilderness.
It can be in the library.
It can be anywhere you have not explored.
To wander is to find yourself
in the middle of nowhere,
not lost
but awake and aware and curious.
To wander is to take the time
to appreciate the journey
instead of just the destination.
To wander is to venture forth
in body or mind
or both
with no goal other than to truly see
what you find
while out there.
There is danger in this
for you might get lost.
There is salvation in this
for you might find yourself.