It’s a 20 year old photograph.
I am returning from the net.
In blue shorts, my head bent, racquet hanging dejectedly;
I must have lost the point.
Except I know better.
Such vanity, attempting humility,
Seeking no applause,
I will graciously accept victory.
I am baaad!
Yet, there is a joker loose on the court.
When I feel superior I need
Merely turn my desk chair and look at the photo.
All my imagined stage craft
Undone, as I look at my self-abasing feet.
True, my steps seem appropriately downtrodden.
If only I had worn matching socks.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Along Came Woody
“A genuine hero” according to Jimmy Carter,
John Wayne has an airport bearing his name.
A truly ungifted actor who always looked the hero.
He presents one pole when mistaking size for substance.
His antipode can be encapsulated as a neurotic nebbish.
Woody Allen’s movie appearances always lacked two things:
Galoshes and acting.
I can see Duke and Woody as a dance team.
Duke would lead, destroying Woody’s feet
In the first thirty seconds.
Woody would complain for the next hundred years,
They are truly nightmares that keep on giving.
Speaking of the breadth of America’s possibilities.
The long and short, good-lookin and ugly,
One seeking the bottom of the bottle, the other
Looking to crawl back into the womb.
Duke was always saving the day
Woody was always losing his way.
No Yin and Yang here.
John Wayne has an airport bearing his name.
A truly ungifted actor who always looked the hero.
He presents one pole when mistaking size for substance.
His antipode can be encapsulated as a neurotic nebbish.
Woody Allen’s movie appearances always lacked two things:
Galoshes and acting.
I can see Duke and Woody as a dance team.
Duke would lead, destroying Woody’s feet
In the first thirty seconds.
Woody would complain for the next hundred years,
They are truly nightmares that keep on giving.
Speaking of the breadth of America’s possibilities.
The long and short, good-lookin and ugly,
One seeking the bottom of the bottle, the other
Looking to crawl back into the womb.
Duke was always saving the day
Woody was always losing his way.
No Yin and Yang here.
2008
2008 you’ve been a real blast.
But now that you are part of the past
I thought I’d offer a word or two
By way of showing how I feel about you.
Our presidential choices demanded attention.
Media followed each and every contention.
Hillary said this and Romney said that
And Rudy Gulliani was leading one pack
Barack Obama was coming on strong
John Edwards sang a populist song.
John McCain decided he needed Falwell’s religion,
While democrats bemoaned each Bush decision.
After millions of dollars we settled on two
McCain and Obama would fight the race through.
Sarah Palin one VP selection,
Her mind an example of candied confection.
Meanwhile our economy was sinking fast,
But George said the slide would not last.
McCain said the fundamentals were sound,
Still most thought the country recession bound.
Banks wanted cash, without a need to repay.
700 billion should cover the play.
Wise men were asked what we should do.
Phil Gramm told the public it’s too bad for you.
Houses being lost at a pace seldom seen.
Jobs disappearing, as in a terrible dream.
Stock markets plunging, charities begging,
Christmas failed for want of big spending.
2008, no,not the best of years.
Filled with loses and so many tears.
In 2009 with Obama leading
Maybe we can staunch the terrible bleeding.
No longer starting unnecessary wars,
Returning sanity to America’s shores.
So we’ll hope for Obama, the new skinny guy
To bring us to peace and a much bluer sky
But now that you are part of the past
I thought I’d offer a word or two
By way of showing how I feel about you.
Our presidential choices demanded attention.
Media followed each and every contention.
Hillary said this and Romney said that
And Rudy Gulliani was leading one pack
Barack Obama was coming on strong
John Edwards sang a populist song.
John McCain decided he needed Falwell’s religion,
While democrats bemoaned each Bush decision.
After millions of dollars we settled on two
McCain and Obama would fight the race through.
Sarah Palin one VP selection,
Her mind an example of candied confection.
Meanwhile our economy was sinking fast,
But George said the slide would not last.
McCain said the fundamentals were sound,
Still most thought the country recession bound.
Banks wanted cash, without a need to repay.
700 billion should cover the play.
Wise men were asked what we should do.
Phil Gramm told the public it’s too bad for you.
Houses being lost at a pace seldom seen.
Jobs disappearing, as in a terrible dream.
Stock markets plunging, charities begging,
Christmas failed for want of big spending.
2008, no,not the best of years.
Filled with loses and so many tears.
In 2009 with Obama leading
Maybe we can staunch the terrible bleeding.
No longer starting unnecessary wars,
Returning sanity to America’s shores.
So we’ll hope for Obama, the new skinny guy
To bring us to peace and a much bluer sky
A Fairy Tale
A Martian landing in Central Park
Is as likely as a Black man becoming President.
So I thought ... until last night.
Now I await little green men.
Obama’s skin tone did not go unnoticed,
Millions preferred a white man.
Millions decided that color was not enough.
Discrimination did not disappear with victory,
Our problems as a culture, nation, people,
Still here this morning, will not evaporate.
But today I’m proud to be an American!
Martin Luther King, who gave voice to possibility,
Might have envisioned this election.
Three years ago I would’ve thought it delusional.
Today, before the Philistines trample on the parade,
Let’s hold the moment with the love of a parent
Telling her child “ You could be ------”
Is as likely as a Black man becoming President.
So I thought ... until last night.
Now I await little green men.
Obama’s skin tone did not go unnoticed,
Millions preferred a white man.
Millions decided that color was not enough.
Discrimination did not disappear with victory,
Our problems as a culture, nation, people,
Still here this morning, will not evaporate.
But today I’m proud to be an American!
Martin Luther King, who gave voice to possibility,
Might have envisioned this election.
Three years ago I would’ve thought it delusional.
Today, before the Philistines trample on the parade,
Let’s hold the moment with the love of a parent
Telling her child “ You could be ------”
Safe
“Safety first”.
That’s about all I recall of the third grade.
I think it spoke of fire drills,
And procedures in the event of a nuclear attack.
My writing group feels safe.
Portions of original books,
Fiction or non, memoirs,
Poems, letters, all fair game.
Uncomfortable chairs, fragile tables
Occupy only a small portion
Of the multi-purpose, large, square room
Where on Monday mornings, we few believers meet.
Along with our efforts to say something,
We bring dreams, smiles, and conversation.
We are a more sanguine version of
The iceman’s favorite bar.
I listen as each reader,
In need of suggestions, corrections
But foremost, approval,
Presents their puzzle.
Beyond grammar and spelling,
Objectivity has no purchase here.
Each writer offers a piece of themselves,
Knowing they will not be censured.
Listen for the anger, love, humor.
Taste the words, both spoken
And missing. Travel with the piece.
In the safety of this place we risk and learn.
That’s about all I recall of the third grade.
I think it spoke of fire drills,
And procedures in the event of a nuclear attack.
My writing group feels safe.
Portions of original books,
Fiction or non, memoirs,
Poems, letters, all fair game.
Uncomfortable chairs, fragile tables
Occupy only a small portion
Of the multi-purpose, large, square room
Where on Monday mornings, we few believers meet.
Along with our efforts to say something,
We bring dreams, smiles, and conversation.
We are a more sanguine version of
The iceman’s favorite bar.
I listen as each reader,
In need of suggestions, corrections
But foremost, approval,
Presents their puzzle.
Beyond grammar and spelling,
Objectivity has no purchase here.
Each writer offers a piece of themselves,
Knowing they will not be censured.
Listen for the anger, love, humor.
Taste the words, both spoken
And missing. Travel with the piece.
In the safety of this place we risk and learn.
Homecrest Ave
“Herbie threw the ball on the roof”!
He topped our six story building that day.
My computer screen shows me the place
And memory paints the scene.
Except for the dulled-red of the brick,
The apartment house looks about right,
Just a little smaller.
Stupid! stupid! Years spent hiding.
Our 5th floor apartment looked out
On a street, partially shaded, in summer,
By a large Oak.
I am warmed.
Stoop ball on the front steps,
I people the entrance with neighbors,
Guys my 15 years of age,
All of us showing signs of early lobotomies.
Pathetic, the bunch of us.
We considered an illegal trip to the pool hall,
Made possible by the contiguous bowling alley.
Never a good pool player.
Surely the word “contiguous” separates me?
At this time, before “hanging” became an art,
When I wasn’t masturbating or avoiding homework,
I learned words like “contiguous”.
It didn’t matter much.
You can’t spend time looking across the street,
Noting that 2 homes are “contiguous”.
Makes for a helluva conversation piece.
I remember riding on the running-board,
Of a 49 Plymouth.
That damn picture invites me in.
Did I just survive, or maybe it was more.
He topped our six story building that day.
My computer screen shows me the place
And memory paints the scene.
Except for the dulled-red of the brick,
The apartment house looks about right,
Just a little smaller.
Stupid! stupid! Years spent hiding.
Our 5th floor apartment looked out
On a street, partially shaded, in summer,
By a large Oak.
I am warmed.
Stoop ball on the front steps,
I people the entrance with neighbors,
Guys my 15 years of age,
All of us showing signs of early lobotomies.
Pathetic, the bunch of us.
We considered an illegal trip to the pool hall,
Made possible by the contiguous bowling alley.
Never a good pool player.
Surely the word “contiguous” separates me?
At this time, before “hanging” became an art,
When I wasn’t masturbating or avoiding homework,
I learned words like “contiguous”.
It didn’t matter much.
You can’t spend time looking across the street,
Noting that 2 homes are “contiguous”.
Makes for a helluva conversation piece.
I remember riding on the running-board,
Of a 49 Plymouth.
That damn picture invites me in.
Did I just survive, or maybe it was more.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Bernie
Why should I care about this one thief?
I am outraged by the indictment that
“He has brought shame on the Jewish community”.
I do not share the shame!
But, if that is so, why do I feel pride
When Paul Krugman wins a Nobel prize?
I am outraged by the indictment that
“He has brought shame on the Jewish community”.
I do not share the shame!
But, if that is so, why do I feel pride
When Paul Krugman wins a Nobel prize?
Zion
What a terrible place to covet.
Listen to the fools speak of a 3,000 year old promise.
Talk about a bad neighborhood.
Every cousin’s hand turned in anger.
Irony turned farce to fear.
Be paranoid or be dead.
There is Martin Luther’s curse,
And the world’s choir still in evidence.
With prayers and weapons all,
All, save America, wish my destruction.
I am the nightmare, not gone by morning,
Whose caricature they hate.
A tiny nation of stiff necked people.
Held to a standard never attainable,
Derided for its tortured history,
Its crime being persistence.
This time my people will stand,
And not apologize for our existence.
We will not appease our enemies
We will return their lashes one hundred fold.
My people are not without fault.
They do not limit their anger to the common enemy,
But, united by the condemnation that surrounds them,
Demean views contrary to theirs.
Once I dreamt of alliances
For each had value worth sharing.
Now there is survival, only survival;
I do not dwell on what might have been.
Listen to the fools speak of a 3,000 year old promise.
Talk about a bad neighborhood.
Every cousin’s hand turned in anger.
Irony turned farce to fear.
Be paranoid or be dead.
There is Martin Luther’s curse,
And the world’s choir still in evidence.
With prayers and weapons all,
All, save America, wish my destruction.
I am the nightmare, not gone by morning,
Whose caricature they hate.
A tiny nation of stiff necked people.
Held to a standard never attainable,
Derided for its tortured history,
Its crime being persistence.
This time my people will stand,
And not apologize for our existence.
We will not appease our enemies
We will return their lashes one hundred fold.
My people are not without fault.
They do not limit their anger to the common enemy,
But, united by the condemnation that surrounds them,
Demean views contrary to theirs.
Once I dreamt of alliances
For each had value worth sharing.
Now there is survival, only survival;
I do not dwell on what might have been.
The Black President
What do you mean racist?
Calling him our Black President was racist.
He is Black!
Which one?
What do you mean which one?
Which President.
We only have one.
You noticed.
I got 24 autographs of Jackie Robinson!
Half of my employees are black!
OK
But he is black!
Yes.
So how can calling him our Black President be racist?
He is also tall and skinny.
So?
Would you call him our tall, skinny, black President?
No.
Why not?
What purpose would be served?
You noticed.
Calling him our Black President was racist.
He is Black!
Which one?
What do you mean which one?
Which President.
We only have one.
You noticed.
I got 24 autographs of Jackie Robinson!
Half of my employees are black!
OK
But he is black!
Yes.
So how can calling him our Black President be racist?
He is also tall and skinny.
So?
Would you call him our tall, skinny, black President?
No.
Why not?
What purpose would be served?
You noticed.
Five six
My physical was devastating.
True, the tests were OK,
Most body parts were functioning well.
Death remained more likely
To come in the form of a speeding car
Than an elevated blood-pressure.
But five-six!
All these years of self delusion
Crashing down on a pathetic little runt.
So cruel a fate.
My father claimed that number.
When he was five six I grew taller.
At least five eight, maybe five nine.
Was he merely five four?
Convinced that I would reach at least six three
I had planned an NBA career.
Distraught, when my plan shriveled.
It took years to accept five nine.
Maybe my unsanfarized body
Diminished over these last few months
And I had been really, nearly, five ten for years?
Now I am short again.
It ‘s a bitter blow:
Shortest guy in the elevator.
Once again I must carry Job’s burden.
There is no god.
True, the tests were OK,
Most body parts were functioning well.
Death remained more likely
To come in the form of a speeding car
Than an elevated blood-pressure.
But five-six!
All these years of self delusion
Crashing down on a pathetic little runt.
So cruel a fate.
My father claimed that number.
When he was five six I grew taller.
At least five eight, maybe five nine.
Was he merely five four?
Convinced that I would reach at least six three
I had planned an NBA career.
Distraught, when my plan shriveled.
It took years to accept five nine.
Maybe my unsanfarized body
Diminished over these last few months
And I had been really, nearly, five ten for years?
Now I am short again.
It ‘s a bitter blow:
Shortest guy in the elevator.
Once again I must carry Job’s burden.
There is no god.
Lady in a Red Shirt
Her arms move too easily
To have been born a Catholic or a Jew.
Neither guilty nor portentous,
They seem outrageously comfortable.
Passing as a spirit from Renoir,
I do not record her person,
Just arms moving with an unconscious rhythm
That, naive as a child’s,
And unweighted by life’s inevitable encounters,
Do not disown responsibility.
Passing along the beach-walk,
Through the leisurely stroll
Of the Sunday families and religious joggers,
Her difference diminishes and finally dissolves.
To have been born a Catholic or a Jew.
Neither guilty nor portentous,
They seem outrageously comfortable.
Passing as a spirit from Renoir,
I do not record her person,
Just arms moving with an unconscious rhythm
That, naive as a child’s,
And unweighted by life’s inevitable encounters,
Do not disown responsibility.
Passing along the beach-walk,
Through the leisurely stroll
Of the Sunday families and religious joggers,
Her difference diminishes and finally dissolves.
Aquarius
Today is a mega-feast for Astrologers.
All sorts of alignments including, ta da!
Jupiter aligning with Mars.
Opportunities not seen outside of a fortune cookie factory
Will be on display.
Neptune will emphasize humanitarian movements,
Chiron, the wounded healer, offers health,
Venus in Aries empowers co-creativity,
Our moon in Libra suggest harmony.
Sadly there is no mention of chocolates.
All sorts of alignments including, ta da!
Jupiter aligning with Mars.
Opportunities not seen outside of a fortune cookie factory
Will be on display.
Neptune will emphasize humanitarian movements,
Chiron, the wounded healer, offers health,
Venus in Aries empowers co-creativity,
Our moon in Libra suggest harmony.
Sadly there is no mention of chocolates.
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