Friday, June 26, 2020

HEAVEN on EARTH



What is heaven?
Here on earth
heaven is a good breakfast
where the taste lingers
on your tongue
and sates your appetite,
Heaven is in a glass
of cold water,
in a sunset,
in a good roll in bed,
in a look between
a man and a woman,
in a good book,
in walking free
through fields of wheat,
in a work of art
that reaches inside you;
Heaven is in a moment.



Saturday, June 13, 2020

MY RESERVOIR, a poem



My reservoir of words
of English with smatterings
of French, German, Italian,
and Spanish with bits
of Farsi and Arabic
available at my call
throughout my life
were collected from parents
from school, from books, from films
from conversations, from theater
from dictionaries and thesauruses
          The right word, the right phrase
          flowed at will
          into my novels, poems, articles
and conversations
then old age struck
The wanted words
slow in coming
or even blocked
by feeble recall
My reservoir remains full
but difficult to access


Wednesday, June 3, 2020

INFATUATION, a poem



         The rivulet flowed
          from within them
          widening into a brook
          tumbling comfortably
          into a stream swelling
          with a growing power
          into a river roaring
          violently to the sea
          and it was over



Sunday, May 24, 2020

TIME'S UP, a poem



Donald, your dream fulfilled:
your name sadly is on
every cable news show
in tribute or dismay
So, time to leave

Donald, you have spent
your presidency
in ugly twittering
shrinking the USA
So, time to leave

Prior presidents spent
all their time in office
dealing with grave problems,
not spellbound by cable
so, time to leave

Monday, May 18, 2020

BEDTIME, a poem

       
Lying abed, unable to sleep,
          gripped by this nightly discomfort
          I want to slip into the void
hoping for interesting dreams

Counting my breathes to plunge
me into a night land
brimming with adventures
for my uncontrolled mind

On awakening in morning
ofttimes recalling unbidden dreams
          with pleasure or some disquiet
          Lying abed, unable to rise
         
         
         

Monday, May 11, 2020

UNFORTUNATELY FDR, a poem



         There is plenty to fear
          He might be reelected
          along with the peril
of reshaping America
into what he awfully is

Oh, if only we could
call forth our giants
from the other side
to guide us again
to a decent America

George Washington
Benjamin Franklin
Teddy Roosevelt
Abraham Lincoln
Franklin Delano Roosevelt

Thursday, April 30, 2020

LONG LOVING


She was the heady stuff
          Of elite human beings
          Thinking her own thoughts
          Living her own life
          Being a modern woman

          She was all mine
          To a limited extent
          I was all hers
          To a limited extent
          In an old-fashioned marriage

          Life was splendid
          When we were one
          Dissatisfaction did bring        
Trying times on occasion
In our long loving marriage