Celebrating Poets Over 70

Dear God

admin — Mon, 17 May 2010 14:30:27 +0000

Please, not under fluorescent lights
or in and amongst stainless, sterile things
about a fluster of people

or in the middle of a summer’s day
(if it can be avoided).
The wrench would be too much.

Though, under a full moon
on a walk through a summer’s night –
that would be altogether satisfactory

but if I am to have my druthers
might I go, in a quiet corner somewhere
under subdued light and after a gourmet meal;
a Caesar perhaps,
pheasant in a blackberry coulis,
a glass of a good Chablis
followed by crepes Suzette?
Then, just as I’m finishing a fine cognac . . .
(before the waiter brings the bill)
Oh, and God, just one more thing,
might you arrange for Kirsten Flagstad
to be singing. Mild und leise . . . ?
Cordially,
yours etc., etc.

– S J White

Heart Troubles

admin — Sun, 16 May 2010 14:24:44 +0000

Of course they would all end up
Leaving me behind.

How did it happen?
What was their problem?
Heart troubles I was told –
Pains in the chest,
Couldn’t catch my breath
Palpitations –

This was before Science and low fat diets.

They all did have the largest hearts,
At least as far as I was concerned.
Big hugs and smiles
And lots to eat,
My little glass of wine waiting at the kitchen table.
All the old pictures show us snuggling
No heart troubles then.

Until I got older
And they did, too.
I was busy, recalling my childhood
from a distance.
Only coming home for the funerals.

– Louise Bonar

Passage

admin — Sat, 15 May 2010 14:19:55 +0000

Peace be to you!
So speaks your look of serenity
to me, as I enter your room.
Your words have ceased
but your body speaks
as never before.
Depths of meaning pass between us.
A Presence overwhelms me.
Is it because God is so near?

– Sr. Maria Francesca Forst

Moratorium

admin — Fri, 14 May 2010 14:17:58 +0000

Let’s have a moratorium on death.
If friends would quit dying
maybe I could get some work done.
As it is, going to funerals,
getting drunk at wakes,
writing obituaries,
and mouthing condolences
takes up too much of my precious time.
It’s all about them, while I,
still trying to figure out how to live,
flounder more helplessly each day.

– Tom Greening

Movin’ On

admin — Thu, 13 May 2010 14:15:45 +0000

My body, once a stately home
With sturdy frame and golden dome,
Has o’er the years, I must confess
Become a rather chewed up mess.

I tried to keep it all in shape
With firm support and loads of paint,
But over time, despite such care,
And patching up the signs of wear
There came a day midst roar and rumble
The whole damn thing began to crumble.

The firm supports now creak and groan
And thatch grows on the golden dome,
The walls cave in, the beams lean out
There’s rust around the water spout.
The heating system, once first-class,
Has started leaking noxious gas.

I tried so hard back in my prime
To halt these ravages of time.
With great alarm I viewed each crack
And strained to hold the mildew back,
And then one day, with great delight
I realized I’d lost the fight.

With sheer relief, I quaffed a stout,
Why hell, I’d soon be moving out!

– Myra Woods

Celebrations

admin — Wed, 12 May 2010 14:13:23 +0000

We celebrated her life
with anecdotes, slide shows
and music and afterwards
talked incessantly, unwilling
to finally confront the silence
of her loss.

– Don Gralen

Sooner or Later

admin — Tue, 11 May 2010 14:10:58 +0000

Off we go, like I told you
With the wind at our backs
Feet over the pavement
By inches,
Moving, always to the next place.
Sooner or later
We all pass by.

– Frieda Feldman

Really Simple

admin — Mon, 10 May 2010 14:08:29 +0000

My family owned three hills
All beautiful to see
Hill one was soil
Hill two was stone
I’m buried on hill three.

We planted on hill one
We quarried on hill two
We buried on hill three because
It had the nicest view.

– Bennett Gurian

Bye Bye

admin — Sun, 09 May 2010 14:06:19 +0000

I’d rather quit this life
Jumping with both feet
Into the . . . you know what
Without a backward look.
I’d rather go running there
Arms wide open
Than slowly ambling
One foot in
Over the edge
Dingle dangling.

And no my darlings
Not the slightest jot of fear
And nothing of regret.

But for the rest of me
I’ll stand by laughing
Remembering this body
That served me so brilliantly
Through sunshine and other stuff.
I’ll thank it profoundly
And move on, singing
But this time . . . ah this time,
IN TUNE!

– Miriam Jordan

Obstinance

admin — Sat, 08 May 2010 14:02:39 +0000

A single leaf trembles
on the slender branch
holding on, holding on,
too stubborn to
let go. Some people are
like that, ignoring all
signs that the end has come.

I’ll be like that leaf,
hang on to that damn
limb no matter how hard
the gusts whip me around.
I never knew nor cared
which way the wind blows.

– Nancy Gotter Gates