Monthly Archives: January 2012

SICK

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/22/nyregion/chefs-butlers-and-marble-baths-not-your-average-hospital-room.html?_r=1&src=me&ref=general

The New York Times Headline catches my eye,
“Chefs, Butlers, Marble Baths: Hospitals Vie for the Affluent”,
Something here seems quite incongruent,
When many can’t afford healthcare,
The elite receive more than their share,
There is no logic there to follow,
It’s a very bitter pill to swallow,
Capitalism truly put to the test,
Survival of the fittest and then screw the rest?
What’s at the heart, what makes this system tick?
It’s an odd thing when a healthcare system is sick.

(written in response to the Poetry Picnic Challenge to write something after a NYT headline)

Gabrielle Giffords Says She’s Leaving the House

That day when you were shot,
Is a day we’ll forget not,
And of course neither will you,
Nor your husband, the astronaut.
Meeting people, shaking hands.
Taking questions and demands,
Making time to act upon them.
But that man had other plans.
Approached you like a passerby,
Intending there and then you’d die.
With many others, he succeeded,
Not with you, though he did try.
Assassin’s bullet could not kill.
You did not die through luck or will.
And right back work you went,
Still climbing that recovery hill.
Dear lady, take more time.
All the time you need, resign.
And come back fully healed.
And feeling at your peak and prime.
You took a bullet in the head,
It’s a miracle you’re not dead.
You’re the luckiest woman alive,
Or the first immortal instead.

Inspired by this piece in today’s New York Times, in response to the New York Times Headline Poetry Picnic Challenge.

The First Maddy

This light won't come on. Ah, now I see the problem. Unplugged by the cat.

When researching family history,
It’s best to be prepared,
To discover things that might,
Have been better left a mystery.

Buccaneers with treasure caves,
That could be what you came from.
Or maybe they were merchants,
Moving cargo ships of slaves.

The First Maddy in the nation,
Fought the Brits for Independence.
He was a patriotic fellow,
With his own cash crop plantation.

In short he was a slave owner,
As were many who came here,
At that time to make their fortunes,
In the Colonies, or the former.

Tobacco money made him rich.
And though first born in America.
James Maddy died crossing a river,
Proving karma is a bitch.

Hope

Hope and I, we’ve worked it out,
sort of struck ourselves a deal.
we know what it’s all about.
what’s a pipe dream, and what’s real.
I’ve agreed to not invest too much,
to not believe like I was blind.
Hope knows that sometimes it’s a crutch,
that’s a role it doesn’t mind,
but Hope will not be overstated,
not be cheapened or abused.
it will go on unabated,
if for a noble purpose used.
So Hope states clearly it will stay,
as long as I know how to see,
and if I work hard to find a way,
it never will abandon me.

Joy Will Find A Way

To everything perhaps a season,
That doesn’t mean a rhyme or reason,
Fate plays its hand without showing a card,
At times we’re ever so demanding,
In our need for understanding,
But the truth is sometimes life’s just bloody hard,
It’s also true it seldoms lasts,
And at some point rough times are past,
Though we know some day they’ll come back our way,
So raise your glasses with your friends,
Know that every road has bends,
And that in the end joy will find a way.

RHYTHM

You’ve always had a slightly different rhythm when we dance,
But I’d never take the chance to mention,
Not my intention to make it known,
Make you concious of this rhythm all your own,
It’s grown to be enough for me,
With occasional synchronicity a pleasant happenstance,
But when our rhythm’s out of synch,
I think that’s fine as well,
For now I’ve learned that when we dance,
I shouldn’t hold you oh so tight,
For I just might affect your sway,
And the gentle way you move,
With a rhythm all your own,
A rhythm known by me,
And loved.

Grain Of Salt

well-meaners, inbetweeners,
fence sitters, born-bitters,
cheerleaders, pack heeders,
naysayers, game players,
well wishers, sin fishers,
revenge seekers, future peekers,
thoughts there they’ll share,
some pious, all biased,
hear’em all, let’em fall,
no fault, but grain of salt,
it’s your choice, your voice,
so be smart, hear YOUR heart.