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YOU ARE WELCOME HERE! Come join in, look around or do some critical reading. Challenge the author. Hosted by Gerald Bosacker...
At this site, you can find publication help, genealogy charts, a dog lover's site, environmental activism,previews of Bosacker's books, our NE Arkansas Quaker meeting house, and other poetic treats. Bosacker's Ethical Society Press is assembling verse for an anthology from the best of Internet Poetesses, Check in MY TITLES for SUGAR & SPICE.
Ancestries available...Bosacker, Black, Scarborough, Colton
Originally destined to become a crusading journalist or witty editorialist, Bosacker was forced by family responsibilities to abandon his part-time jobs and night school classes at the University of Minnesota, to work fulltime as a printer. There, his love of the well chosen word enabled him to become a successful graphic arts salesman who migrated upward, propelled by serendipity coupled with his tolerance and empathy for faulted people, to become senior vice president of sales for a large international chemical company.  Promoted much beyond his ambition and capability, and finding himself unskilled at high-end corporate politics, Bosacker jumped at early retirement at his first opportunity. Now living in a small Arkansas community or in his fishing condo on Whitefish Lake near Glacier Park when over civilized in the Ozarks, he has resumed his first love, weaving words into prize-winning poetry and surprising short tales that borrow heavily from the fascinating people he met in his world-wide travels. Bosacker displays the fruits of his labors at this site. To see his biography and reasons for being, check Bosacker bio.
Bosacker has two novels nearing completion and hopes to finish them before succumbing to the expected innocence of old age. If you like his short stories and poetry, please encourage him by sampling eight completed books. A taste of each is freely offered on SHOWCASE. You can buy any of his nine books at a special price from this page, paying by either pay pal or by check.
EASILY BUY BOOKS ONLINE HERE.
SEPTEMBER 2007 WISDOM:
A STRANGE WAR
In Iraq, we are waging a strange war,
a war of attrition and arms supply
Will they run out of bombers before
our stock of soldiers, willing to die?
We fight to establish democracy
and if we succeed what will ensue.
They will vote for a Muslim theocracy,
pledged to destroy each Christian and Jew.
BEHIND THE POEM:
Only a small minority, with economic or professional gain from the war, support this very strange war proclaimed to bring a strange democracy to a region hostile to all of the earmarks of our our democracy’s basic four freedoms.
Look at the corporations that gain from this exportation of American dollars, young soldiers lives and American honor. Their lobbying and we voter's Honor sullied by the President’s staunch decision to launch a pre-emptive war and burden our nation with an impossible seige of occupation and democritization.
Every American citizen should challengte those who profit from this foolhardy enterprise, as these greedy profiteers are our worst enemy and they hold our president hostage to their needs.
ECLIPSING ME
My half-done novel snores beneath my bed
and its been months since its been fed,
blessed atrophy
Disrobed from fame by words, spit back as trite,
and I'm starved for praise and just tonight,
I found the key
On the highest spot in our neighborhood,
casting shadow, I proudly stood,
posed formally.
Some part of me blocked the moon's bright glow
while the eclipse let the Earth's rim show
so you saw me.
BEHIND THESE LINES:
During the last lunar eclipse, I appeared before my largest audience, ever. At least two billion people watched as my shadow posed on the edge of the Earth's horizon. Too bad, I was but a minescule shadow of my self. I put my travailed and treasured lines of verse on the Internet, and the same number of people responded as those that waved back at my shadow.
Two thousand unrecognized poems for two billion people, and I got as much recognition as when I posed on the horizon and waved.
WE ARE PLANTERS
A tiny seed is wishful sown
in God’s hungry, eager earth.
It germinates, not on its own,
since warming sun must beg its birth.
If its roots reach deep enough
in somewhat loosened common dirt,
it nurtures from soil’s rotting duff
and springs to life from past inert.
Our relationships are just like this,
and we expect, they fervent grow.
Dark clouds bestow sweet moisture’s kiss,
but can’t control what fates bestow.
As with anything that’s sown,
there comes a harvest we must reap.
Sometimes only weeds are grown
so we must learn which crop to keep.
DIFFERENT GODS
Does Allah see Bin Ladin in his mirror,
distorted with hate, a specter to fear.
Or does Allah hide his head in shame,
cursed for atrocities done in his name.
If He is the God that Jihads inspire,
I’d fear the Heaven, Muslims acquire.
If mirrors can really show and tell,
my chosen God is Christ-like as well.
A man defines his character most
when he ascribes his heavenly host.
When I might meet my God and maker,
He will welcome this meek Quaker.
Many more examples: http://www.silentwords.com/CollectedWorks/Bosacker.html
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IN DEFENSE OF RHYME
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