The Holidays

Well, Black Friday is over and today is Cyber Monday. Shop till you drop for stuff you really don’t need or can’t afford. So I wrote this little poem about it:

To Hell With Christmas
.
It’s holiday time in America
Hanukka and Christmas be dammed.
We’re stampeding Walmart and Target,
Our SUVs will be crammed.
.
Is this what Jesus was born for,
People killed for midnight sales?
Socks or an I-Pod at half price –
Spend, spend, spend, still prevails.
.
This year the greed is for bargains.
Even Santa’s got into the act.
He sold his soul for cheap flat screens.
His partner, the devil’s, out back.
.
So come on Dancer and come on Blitzen
Trample the crèche on the lawn.
Don’t matter how we got it
As long as it’s 75% off at dawn!

A Thanksgiving Day Poem

Come to the Table
.
Gather ye people, ye lost and alone.
Come and join us, make this your home.
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Whatever they call you, we do not care.
As children of God, come hither and share.
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Shunned and banned as outcasts you be.
You belong to the Lord in this land of the free.
.
They call you murderers, lies tinged with hate.
It’s excuse for power to separate and discriminate.
.
So come to the table and receive the Lord’s meal
We’ll surround you with love, acceptance you’ll feel.
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We fear not the virus or what others say.
Jesus our Lord is with us on Thanksgiving Day.

On Climate Change

With the recent climate change conference in the news, I feel that this poem I wrote a few years ago says it all:
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We Must Stop the Destruction
.
What have we done
To this place of our birth?
Contaminated water
Contaminated earth.
Wrung dry the rivers
Squeezed out the lakes.
From others less fortunate
The rich nation takes.
Can we reverse it
Can we atone?
Give food to the starving
All skin and bone.
.
The green movement’s trying
But is it too late
To shore up our planet
Make the destruction abate?
Is anyone out there
Who will carry the cross
Turn sadness and hunger
Stop all this loss?
The ozone’s depleted
The soil’s dust and dry.
Can anyone stop it …
Will anyone try?

 

Remembering Hurricane Sandy

It’s the 9^th Anniversary since Sandy hit and I was plunged for 11 days into a world of no electricity. I wrote this poem years later after another blackout but a shorter one. What inspired me was the memory of being without power during Hurricane Sandy and how my laptop died when the battery died but an old manual typewriter would have gone on clicking! So using the idea of us being “underwood” for the trees clobbering the power lines I wrote this poem (“Underwood” was also the brand name of a manual, non-electric, typewriter popular at the beginning of the 20^th century)
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Underwood
.
Wiz, bang, snap
There goes another tree.
The wind picks up stronger…
A thud, the ground shakes,
Sounds like the end of the world.
.
I awaken to darkness
The wind still howls.
No electricity, no radio,
Look outside, houses, cars
Crushed under dead wood.
.
Computer only connection
But battery won’t last.
I type, type, type,
Need to get that article done
Before screen goes blank.
.
Deadline looming;
Print what I have before death
Snaps the laptop out.
Sitting here in the dark
What can I do?
.
One day, two days
After the storm
I take a flashlight
Frantically search closets
Find the old monster hidden in back.
.
Clickety clack go the keys
So hard to press down
But at least this typewriter
Won’t die in mid sentence
Like the newfangled laptop.
.
Article completed
Put it in envelope
Send off by snailmail
Thanking old Underwood
I return him to his shelf.