Monthly Archives: June 2010

I Regret

  • I regret the pages of this volume have come to an end. I have shared my doodles and my thoughts. You have found me between the pages, the lines, and doodles. I have more to share. I am ever-changing. I am optimistic about our future.

Originally written:    November 23, 2000

  • I wrote the above as the last page of volume 4 of 6 of my personal journals..    I have received a suggestion to add the journal closings  the poetry I have put on-line.   In this closing or “a bienot” , I close this book and open the next.  Come with me into the next journal by coming back to see the new poetry and discover more.

Come, You Are Welcome

  • Come, I am here within
    • The words and doodles.
    • My words are unplanned
  • They come un-bidden
    • As my pen scratches across the page.
  • My doodles are just that,
    • Doodles flowing from mind
    • To pen to page.
  • My words and doodles
    • Surprise even me.
  • Come, You are welcome
    • To discover me.
  • Maybe you will find
    • A bit of yourself.
  • I am not hiding
    • I attempt to write truths
    • As I learn them
    • Or they come to mind.
  • I know perspective changes
    • Meaning and impact.
  • For misunderstandings,
    • I apologize in advance.
  • For mistruths
    • I ask your forgiveness.
  • I am not hiding.
    • I attempt to let you see me
    • And experience my thoughts and feelings.
  • Some will see little,
    • Others will see more.
  • Enjoy the moment.

Originally written:  April 15, 1998

  • This is the beginning of my fourth personal journal.    I open each journal with a little welcome to those who read it.   When I started writing I intended it to be for my children and grandchildren. I planned to put them into the computer, but I was filled with excuses.
  •  A dear friend in Toronto recommended a blog.  I started out not knowing what to expect. As other people became familiar with the prose, I received invitations to join REAL  Bloggers United, Broowaha Your Citizen Newspaper, The Artists Challenge Inferno, and others.  I am surprised and elated others enjoy the prose I have written.  I am honored by their comments.
  • With these feelings of being honored I open this new book.  I invite you to read the poetry and learn about living, loving, and about me. You may find some of the lessons humorous, edgy, and something you have already learned.
  • Again, welcome.

A Book for a Family Picnic

I was asked to submit a book of poetry for a silent auction at the Brinkman Family Picnic in Pewaukee, Wisconsin.  I selected   50 poems from this blog and segmented the book into several chapters.   The chapters were:  Family, Love, Spirituality, and  Memories of Those Who Wait.    There are roughly 12 to 15  poems per chapter.  I shared this book with a close friend as a way to keeping informed of the latest work efforts.   Surprise came in an email this morning.  I received a converted PDF file and 2 jpgs of the front page of the book.   The following is a picture of the cover of the Musings From a Brinkman’s Mind.

I will let you know how the silent auction turns out.    Thank you for the comments on the individual poems.

My Indiana Home

  • As I turn the key in the door
    • My muscles relax.
    • Stress of travel,
    • Business, everything.
    • Leaves my mind.
  • As I sit by the window
    • Looking into the sunset,
    • Light and life flow
    • Back into my soul.
  • I find I have missed
    • This home more than
    • I let myself think I did.
  • There is new life in
    • Peace and tranquility.
    • I would not recognize it
    • Without an occasional
    • Trip to my Indiana home.
  • Ordinarily, I rush here and there,
    • Concentrating on the present.
    • Fixing this or that.
    • Helping him or her.
    • Peace and tranquility lost
    • In the chaos of living.
  • Yet, when I turn the key in the door
    • All stress sheds like rain water
    • From my hat brim
    • Dripping down my backbone.
    • Cold water washing away all the stress.


Originally written:   March 8, 1998

  • If I would think of a Camelot in my life I would select the little house just south of Warsaw, Indiana on the East end of Goose Lake.   A lake filled with blue gills, bass, and  more blue gills.
  • I remember taking the neighbor a jar of homemade thimble berry  jam the morning after we arrived.  He was a retired plumber and loved to fish each morning and evening.  We told each stories and laughed a lot.  His wife had taken the jam inside and appeared a little while later with a platter covered in aluminum foil.  She gave it to me with thanks for the jam and said I needed to go home and try the fish before they got cold.  Away I went and  put it on the breakfast table along with the eggs and bacon my wife prepared for us. I ate my eggs. bacon and toast with glee.  I turned to the deep-fried battered blue gills and I found there was only one of six left.  My dear wife had this wonderful sheepish grin on her face and her breakfast plate of eggs was untouched.   I realized with chagrin I was out foxed. I chuckled. No, I laughed. 
  • Warsaw, Indiana is a special place where you go for a haircut and the barber or the grocery clerk welcomes you by first name.  It was one of those friendly places we rarely find.  On Sunday, visiting one of the local churches you are welcomed by name with a friendly smile.  It does not matter whether you are Methodist, Lutheran, or Catholic the church members are the same friendly folk.  I felt a part of the community, not a frequent visitor with a house on a nearby lake. The people of Warsaw are to be praised and congratulated on their inclusiveness.  Natives who have had to move away are proud to say they are from Warsaw, Indiana.
  • This was reminiscing on a home my wife inherited from her mother.  We kept it for a number of years and then sold it on the spur of the moment.  We do not regret selling it to a friend.  It is well cared for. 

Have You Taken Time?

  • Have you taken the time
    • To lie on your back
    • And watch the clouds?
  • To daydream of what
    • Shapes the clouds make.
      • To imagine a face
      • In the clouds of someone dear.
    • These are special moments.
      • They are not replaceable.
    • The real world recedes
      • And a personal one is revealed.
  • It is your world.
    • It awaits you.
  • I visit mine often.
    • It beckons to come back regularly.
  • I am refreshed and relaxed
    • By the minutes spent watching,
    • Imagining, and daydreaming.
  • Ideas are formed and transformed.


Originally written:  March 3, 1998

  • Watching clouds is more than a pastime with me.  I love to watch white and fluffy clouds, very high almost transparent, the spectacular multi-colored sunsets and sunrises.  I even stand outside to watch the storm clouds and lightning. 
  • The images and shapes are unlimited.  The stories they have told me would make wonderful movies.  Actually, the clouds were movies of ethereal dimensions. I have seen whales and sea-serpents.  I have seen everything from giants to leprechauns and all things in between.  I have seen Charlie Chaplin. and even Mickey Mouse.  The images are limited only by my imagination.
  • Have you taken time to just watch the clouds in the sky?     What  have you seen?

Love Stress

  • Love of a loved one
    • Can be, will be stressful.
    • Draw a deep breath.
  • Spread you hands palm up
    • Lift them up offering
    • The stress as your sacrifice.
  • It is loving, not advising,
    • Nor controlling
    • That is the important gift.
  • Offering the stress
    • Is making it a second gift.


Originally written: February 21, 1998

  • In any relationship there is stress.  There are moments for each partner in a relationship when anxiety enters daily life.  Yet, together they have committed to move forward towards a goal.  They share the anxiety and the pain.  The act of offering up the suffering is relief.  If  the offering is performed together cements the relationship even further.
  • This is not meant to condone or recommend in any way abusive behavior.  Abusive behavior needs to be dealt with, escaped from, or eliminated.   It takes courage and even stealth.   To stay in an abusive situation is to be a slave. 

Look Inside

  • Hum-m-m-m-m. Har um-m-m-m-m
    • Hum-m-m-m-m. Har um-m-m-m-m
    • Look inside, not outside.
  • Hum-m-m-m-m. Har um-m-m-m-m
    • Breathe deep, again, and again.
    • Look inside, not outside.
  • Hum-m-m-m-m. Har um-m-m-m-m
    • The answer is there within you.
    • Yes, inside, not outside.
  • Hum-m-m-m-m. Har um-m-m-m-m
    • Ah, yes, I understand.
    • The answers are here within.

Originally written:  February 14, 1998

  • Most answers concerning self are known within.  Finding the answer outside is like searching for a flower in the desert in the middle of summer.  You will spend a long time looking for that flower.  If it does not rain you will search forever.  Inside, you will find the answers you long for.  Just remember, you cannot live inside.   You need to live in the world.   What you learn should be turned into actions that will help others.  Others are on this journey.