Gordy joined Poetry Pages April 18, 2002.
Meet David, Poetry Pages' Gordy...
What is your age bracket: under 25, 25 - 50, over 50?
What is your name? Where do you live? What do you like to do? What is your occupation?
david whitehill jr / hamilton, ohio / i like to watch baseball and,or play softball; i like to watch jeopardy with my kids / i like to talk to my wife; i like to eat chocolate; i like to go to church and talk to the interesting people in my small group. i work at an office furniture store called LOTH; i actually put new fabric on cubicle walls.
How long have you been writing poetry? Do you recall what led you, if anything, to start writing?
i have been writing since junior high school probably. mostly i wrote back then because i felt like an outcast, which i'm sure all 13 year olds do to some extent or another...it was my way of getting the feelings out of my head, etc., a sort of release i suppose. later on, after listening to many psychologists on the radio and reading books and stuff that talk about children and parent relationships, etc., i came to realize that maybe why i write is because of my dad....he was always reading a book. maybe it was my way of getting attention that i craved from him when i was young? i wrote a poem about that; here is a link My Daddy.
Have you ever been published? In what books or by whom?
only in poetry pages books...
What inspires you to write? Is there a certain setting where you like to write? Do you listen to music when you write?
mostly what inspires me to write is something i hear or see during my daily life...sometimes it's a phrase or a conversation that sets my mind wandering and the wheels start whirring and i will jot down a title or a phrase. then it either sits in a notebook for a long time or, if it is truly inspired, then i can't stop thinking about it until i finish it......these are usually the best, but not always. the poems i labor over for a long time usually don't pan out; however, a few have been good or at least i think they are....lol. i usually watch tv when i write instead of listening to music.
What is one of your favorite poems that you have penned? Would you mind sharing why or the story behind the poem?
i suppose i would say either Pharisee Me or A Study In Perspective Pt 1, (Blessings and Cursings). i worked on both of them for a while. they are examples of the very few poems that i have labored over that turned out halfway decent....i like to take different viewpoints on subjects from what i think most people would. both of these poems use aspects of this thought process. the first one, Pharisee Me, shows how we all have characteristics within us that don't completely define us but simply are parts of a whole. the other favorite poem is the first in my study in perspective series; it is simply about not judging people. i heard a very good saying yesterday that went like this....."Don't pass judgment where you have no compassion." that pretty much sums up the concept of my poem as well as how i would like to live my own life, though i fail more often than i succeed.....but i ain't done yet and i'm gettin' better each day!
I have baked many pies
made from forbidden fruits
from a recipe the snake did provide
and washed it down with Esau's soup
I've been momma's boy and burly man
I've sat on both sides of the table
I've been in the dungeon with Joseph and slept
with Pontifer's wife, the same day I killed Abel
I missed the ark, I've dropped the arc
I've both blessed and cursed the rain
I hit the rock more than twice
When water came out, I hit it again and again
I've been on both sides
of many a Jericho wall
I've been the one to build them up
and the loudest to shout when they fall
I've eaten manna from the sky
in the early morning light
and danced around the golden calf
on that very same night
I bowed down at Dagon's feet
more times than I can tell
and barely got out of the way
every single time he fell
I've built countless shaky towers
and thought every one was good
I've babbled on and on to nearly everyone
Yet no one's understood
I've grown my hair extremely long
and thought my strength it did contain
Yet sheared short or hanging long
to me, it's been neither a blessing nor a bane
I've hungrily eaten all the food
that Daniel pushed aside
I've slept nightly with the lions
not realizing Your protection kept me alive
I continued to fight with not one
but with two broken legs
and chased angels carrying blessings
back up ladders, while continuing to lie, steal and beg
I've stood behind a burning bush
Pretending to speak your words
But when the bush was burned away
my own foolishness is all that was heard
I've made allegience with legion
and went cliff diving with the pigs
I've ran ahead of the Master
and plucked the tree empty of it's figs
I have been on the same day
both a virgin and a whore
I've led the adulterous woman by the hand
back to the bedroom door
My sisters said so many times
"He's dead, stinking and bound"
Yet You've called into the man-made tomb
and commanded that I come out
I held Paul's coat when he held
the coats of those who stoned Stephen into a martyr
But I was also the one, when I saw
Jesus's standing ovation, who cheered louder and longer
I've handed Pontious a towel
to wipe his blood stained hands
and gladly shouted, "Crucify Him"
or whatever else the crowd demands
Hanging on both sides of Jesus
I have often been found
Both on the mocking accusing side
and the side paradise bound
But there was that one fateful day
when the rainbow I usually saw only halfway done
became perfectly clear and complete
wrapped around Him on His throne
As I came to Him when He said, "Come"
and all the blood He shed at Calvary
was just exactly enough
to save this pharisee, me
View it here: Pharisee Me
A Study in perspective Pt. 1
(Blessings and Cursings)
She gets her kids up
Screaming and kicking the whole way
Getting the last one on the bus
She heads home, passing a woman
Pushing her son in a wheelchair
She picks him up out of the bed
Her back aching and screaming
After cleaning his colostomy bag
She wheels him to the bus stop
On her way home she passes
The funeral procession
She gets herself up
Crying and screaming
Not believing this is real
She cannot express the sorrow she feels
On her way home from the funeral
She passes the fertility clinic
We at least had him a little while, she thinks
Three short wonderful years
She smiles through the tears
She wakes up from her dream
She thought she'd heard a baby cry and scream
But they still have no baby
As she heads to the clinic
for one more try
Out of the abortion clinic
A young girl walks by
"At least I'm trying to bring a life into this world"
She angrily mutters aloud
As the young girl slips into the crowd
She picks herself up
Screaming and screaming and screaming
The ambulance comes and finally stops the bleeding
Two months later, she gets the "good" news
Pregnancy , her present for rape and abuse
She heads to the clinic
doing only what she knows to do
Brushing past a homeless man on a bench
She angrily thinks to herself
At least I wont be responsible for another bum like you
He admires his creation.
Each one perfectly made,
in His eyes.
Smiling, He bends down and
Continues to feed the sparrows
From his seemingly unending sack of seeds
Sitting beside Him on the bench
View it here: A Study in Perspective-- Pt. 1, (Blessings and Cursings)
You can view Gordy's archive here: Gordy's Poems