Selected Poems of
James N. Churchyard
26 October 2017
Contents
Fireworks Greet a
Returning Rocket Scientist
Collective Nouns for
Engineers
My Mustache and my Career
Change
At Dear Sister’s Memorial
Service
1694 Santa Margarita Dr.
Fallbrook, CA 92028-1639
760-731-7280
Copyright © 2017 by the author.
I was just a toddler
when Mom went back to school.
We stayed (Mom, my two
sisters and I)
at a motel in Tempe with a
fenced in swimming pool.
We must have been there for
several weeks
as she worked to re-activate
her credential –
I don’t remember any other
details.
Next we lived in a shared
house
in Silver City while she took a
class there.
There was a church up the
hill
from the house.
Did we visit her one-room school
in the now ghost town of
Cloverdale?
It had a big oak tree in the
yard –
that is all I remember.
But when she became too ill
she had to abandon her goals.
October
2017
Tempe – Arizona
Silver City – New Mexico
Cloverdale – formerly New
Mexico
Love
– fireworks in the heart,
Music
–fireworks in the ear,
Insight
– fireworks in the mind,
Pain
– fireworks in the flesh.
1985
Read 2015
About this poem
This was written after an operation to remove my
retroceccal appendix just before it would have ruptured. That evening the nurse wanted me to sit up
and dangle my legs off the bed – the most painful thing I have ever done. Even after the immediate pain went away, for
many years a change in the weather could really set me back.
I
fell down on Wednesday, 11/14/15.
The
Corelle ware plate shattered into many pieces,
However
the Pyrex bowl survived intact.
Others
helped me up. I had no cane or other prop.
So
I ate my lunch at the picnic pavilion,
Then
found a broom and waste bucket
And
swept up the pieces.
My
knees exhibit several scars,
My
right arm feels pulled ligaments
Moral
– don’t do that again!
Look
at my feet to see the obstacles there.
Keep
brain in gear, don’t think too far ahead.
Pay
attention to now – what else is there?
November 2015
About this poem
I was watching my goal, not the things in front of
my feet, and did not notice the curb until I tripped over it – rather
embarrassing for someone who had been that way many times.
Flying
back from El Paso to LAX,
After
a successful Launch from Utah to WSMR,
We
were greeted by fireworks – it was late on the Fourth of July.
As
we descended gushes of fireworks
Rose
from near and far to our delight.
Stars
and fireworks were in our eyes
As
we disembarked that splendid summer’s night.
6/21/2016
About this poem
The only time in my life when I saw fireworks from
above – a very different view on the process!
LAX – Los Angeles International Airport, California
WSMR – White Sands Missile Range, New Mexico
When
the going got tough
In
developing our missile
Into
my simulation lab they would come.
A
mechanical problem?
Then I hosted
A
clutch of mechanicals.
An
electronics problem?
Then surged
A
shock of electricals.
A
software problem?
Then flowed
A
heap of programmers.
A
management problem?
Then followed
A
gaggle of managers.
And
helping to solve these problems? Myself,
A
pride of mathematicians!
9 April 2015
About this poem
In the throes of developing the Improved Tactical
Air Launched Decoy (ITALD) my hardware-in-the-loop simulation lab was visited
many times by different people as various problems surfaced. Depending on the exact problem different
groups of engineers would huddle to work the problem. This set me to wondering about the
nomenclature for these groups and so I developed the following collective
nouns.
Clutch (like for chickens) of mechanical engineers
Shock (like a shock of corn) of electronic engineers
Heap (like a heap of sand) for software engineers
Gaggle (like a gaggle of geese) for managers
Pride (like a pride of lions) for mathematicians
The first Athena
rocket came apart at launch
from Green River,
Utah,
and pieces fell
between the airport and the town
of Durango,
Colorado.
Then we had a
couple of successes
but then more
failures.
Some of us swore
to leave our
faces unshorn until
success was ours.
But, after a
short while, the other
fellows backed out –
I kept my
mustache even so.
It never
amounted to much,
never was pointed,
bushy,
never had a handlebar
and itched my poor
nose terribly.
Long after the
last Athena
disappeared into the skies
I kept my
mustache in its honor -
a worthy
contributor to the
space era!
But now, after
50 some years
as a rocket
scientist,
it is time to say
farewell to rocketry
and shave the damn
thing off!
And say welcome
to poetry!
June
2015
Read
5/10/2016
About this poem
As it says, after 50 some years my mustache had
never amounted to much and, was turning white, it was less and less
noticeable. So why contend with itches
and inconvenience? Shave it off, it
never will be missed!
Athena – a four stage solid fuel research rocket
launched in the 1960s to 1970s
No
more differential equations.
No
more orbital mechanics,
No
more reliability and maintainability.
No
more root cause analyses.
No
more straightening out trajectories
bent
crooked by the upper air winds.
Yes
to beauty of thought and sound,
Yes
to choosing words of comfort,
Yes
to tears of joy from beauty and friendships,
Yes
to tears of grief that come from living.
January 2016
About this poem
As in the poem about my mustache, I am looking
forward to a change in life style. I
accumulated equal semester hours in English and mathematics, but now I am
returning to English literature to anchor the rest of my life.
During
the Reflection Period I shared two memories.
At
one point our father had $4.00 to feed the family
(father and three children) for a week – there was no more
money –
that
was it.
And she did it!
She
spent her first college year at Trinity University
In
San Antonio, Texas.
She
came home at Christmas break and needed to study.
Ada
and I had missed her terribly, but she needed to study.
We
tried to catch her attention for her to interact with us.
Finally
she told us “to get the Devil out of here!”
I
looked at Ada, Ada looked at me, and the two of us got on either side of her,
Picked
her up – chair, sister, book and all – and carried her outside,
Literally
“getting the Devil out of here.”
At
the top of her celebration program
She
told us what she expected of us –
“I
want an uplifting memorial service,
Not
a sad, dreary affair.”
Did
we obey her wishes? Not her bratty
brother!
He
wept while giving both his reflections and had
To
be held up at times.
And
so, Dear Sister, farewell!
Read March 2017
About this poem
My sister Miriam was born 30 August 1924, died 23
February 2017. The above is based on my
reflections at the service on 4 March 2017.
James Churchyard was born and raised in Douglas,
Cochise County, Arizona. He took all the
mathematics and English classes offered by the high school. He then went to the University of Arizona in
Tucson where he majored in English, mathematics and education. He tried high school teaching but did not
relate well to the students. In the aftermath
of sputnik, though, he joined the aerospace business and worked for many years
as a rocket scientist. He retired 16
September 2016 and has returned to poetry.