Category Archives: Poetry

For The Record

A public service message,
To set a few things straight,
To conspirators and doubters,
And haters that gotta hate,
Osama’s dead, shot in the head,
Then buried out at sea,
Barack Hussein Obama,
He was born in Hawaii,
While we’re at it let’s set straight,
Some other twisted views,
12 men do not control the world,
Nor the Vatican, nor Jews,
The lunar landing happened,
And Darwin he was right,
(though the way you nutters think,
puts that in a different light),
There often remain questions,
About how people die,
But a simple lack of answers,
Won’t make conspiracy fly,
We wonder about detail,
When the elite pass on,
Except in the case of Elvis,
Whom we know was on the john,
Reptiles are not aliens,
Though you may think it so,
I’m also pretty sure,
2012 will come and go,
Believers of this stuff,
Leave one question inane,
How is it really possible,
To live with half a brain?

A Daughter’s Love

Dedicated to my mother, Della Snyder-Velto on Mother’s Day 2011

It’s hard to know where to begin.
Much easier it would have been,
To buy a card of hollow words.

Of old clichés that sound absurd.
And sentiments that are not real,
And feelings that I do not feel.

Love seems the natural place to start,
But there’s not enough room in my heart,
To hold all the love I feel for you.

And all the love you give me, too.
You’ve loved me through times smooth and rough.
The word LOVE just isn’t big enough.

I can’t think of anything else to say,
Apart from Happy Mother’s Day.
And I love you today, and everyday.

Being Happy

There are times when I’d rather be,
Anyone but plain old me.
Like, maybe a celebrity.

An actress on a TV show!

To all the private clubs I’d go.
Designer clothes from head to toe.
And everyone would love my shoes.

Just think of all the weight I’d lose!

They’d talk about me on the news.
Throwing tantrums on the set.
Flashing my girly parts on the ‘net.

Perhaps I’m not ready for that yet…

Choices

Choices.
not history,
not destiny,
not good luck,
bad luck,
chemistry,
no Godly will,
no kharmic bill,
no predetermined
shoes to fill,
no cosmic game,
no star to name,
no past,
no childhood to blame,
nurture,
nature,
DNA,
along the way,
they play a role,
but they’re just pieces of the whole,
not to defend,
the path you wend,
for in the end,
it all comes down,
to choices.

Shut. The Fuck. Up.

I’m so filled with disappointment,
Hope it’s okay if I bitch and vent.
But please be quiet for holy fucks sake,
When you have a national test to take.
You’re big kids now and you must see,
That no talking during the test exactly,
Means no talking, no note passing,
No whispering, and no harassing,
Of your fellow classmates or the teacher.
There’s really only one feature,
That I want to see and NOT to hear,
And that is fucking SILENCE, dear.
So keep your mouth shut, do your task.
I don’t think this is too much to ask.

Did I Miss Anything?

I did not write this masterpiece but it’s probably my favorite poem of all time. It sums up perfectly what it’s like to be a teacher. If I had a krona for each time I was asked by a student if he or she “missed anything” well, let’s just say I wouldn’t have to make a living as a teacher.

Did I Miss Anything?

Tom Wayman

Nothing. When we realized you weren’t here
we sat with our hands folded on our desks
in silence, for the full two hours

Everything. I gave an exam worth
40 percent of the grade for this term
and assigned some reading due today
on which I’m about to hand out a quiz
worth 50 percent

Nothing. None of the content of this course
has value or meaning
Take as many days off as you like:
any activities we undertake as a class
I assure you will not matter either to you or me
and are without purpose

Everything. A few minutes after we began last time
a shaft of light suddenly descended and an angel
or other heavenly being appeared
and revealed to us what each woman or man must do
to attain divine wisdom in this life and
the hereafter
This is the last time the class will meet
before we disperse to bring the good news to all people
on earth.

Nothing. When you are not present
how could something significant occur?

Everything. Contained in this classroom
is a microcosm of human experience
assembled for you to query and examine and ponder
This is not the only place such an opportunity has been
gathered

but it was one place

And you weren’t here

Bittersweet Thoughts on Bin Laden

One more bad guy bites the dust,
Yet the moment’s bittersweet,
When people whoop and cheer for blood,
The victory’s not complete,
When ideologies come to blows,
Push sometimes comes to shove,
We’re drawn onto the path of war,
Though we’d choose the path of love,
Lennon, Ghandi, Martin Luther King,
All had good points of course,
But the truth is sadly sometimes,
Force must be met with force,
That truth is somber, sobering,
And as such should be met,
Not with joy and pleasure,
But some measure of regret,
The hawks and doves will argue,
Neither one completely right,
There are times though that safety,
Must be shielded with might,
We wish for peace, and work for peace,
Still this must be reconciled,
With the fact that none would hesitate,
To give their life for their child.