Most Recent - 2003-2004

DEAD SILENCE

They didn't like my music
so they broke my instrument
I fixed it
and played on

Now
They didn't like me
or my music
so they stole my instrument . . .
I bought another
and the music continued

They couldn't stop me
or my music
so they put me in a box
where they wouldn't see me
or hear my music

I sat in my box
and painted the walls
with scales
I covered the windows
with chords . . .
Now, I won't hear or see them

they think I've been silenced
but the music is with ME . . .
and now
no one in their world
can dance

---

SOUNDS

How sweet the beat
of music in the womb
as we await our birth and time
to take our place on earth
thump thump
thump thump
thump thump

the passage is rough
past petalled portal
so filled with strife
the trip to light and life
bump bump
bump bump
bump bump

We begin our march
down well trodden trails
through endless days
of self-imposed jails
clump clump
clump clump
clump clump

Then, at last the end's in sight
and though we've fought
with all our might
we still end up in tiny boxes
where we will pay for all our sins
and the sound that's never heard
is that of the dirt thrown in
lump lump
lump lump
lump lump

---

Reign of Rain

There was the reign of Solomon;
of Buddha
Jesus,
Tang, and Kahn

There were countless names
and countless reigns
and each in their time
moved on

Since you moved on
there's been a reign of rain. . .
but my heart still lives
in an arid land

---

First Day of Winter

My daddy loved me
this I know
tho' he never told me so . . .

My daddy loved me
in the summer,
in the spring, and in the fall;
but in the winter most of all

He never hit me in
the face
so no one would know
of my disgrace

He never punched me
on the chin
so none could know
of the fear I was in

Only a dad who loved his son
would take the care to see
that so much wear a
and tear inflicted
went unseen by everyone

My daddy loved me
and I know it -
'cause
I still have th scars
to show it .............

---

Blizzard Behind Bars

From inside
I watch the snow fall
incessantly
each sparkling, jewelled flake
a unique masterpiece

Silently, it works its magic

No stone cutter's hammering raps
no earthquake's shattering
snaps
are needed, to reshape the battered land

Inch by inch
the tiny, crystal marvels fall
Each rut, rivulet, and divot
is leveled, renewed . . .
made whole and pure
by these pristine and eloquent
renewers of life

Outside, all is healed

The ruts of my pain are still deep;
the rivulets of my tears trace my cheeks;
the divots in my heart are still tender . . .

I need to be outside - - - - - - - - - - -

---

WAR GAMES

When we were small
"war" was fun -
Bang, Bang,
you're dead!
didn't mean much
except maybe a short argument
about
who 'got' whom

It didn't matter a lot
because no matter who was 'got'
the worst thing hurt was ego

It was o.k. to get up
after a few minutes
and go home to mom
for a box of cookies
and some Milk

Now, we're big
and in KOSOVO, Afghanistan and Iraq
and it's not a game anymore

Bang, Bang means
(if you're the one that's ‘got')
that you don't get up...
But
you still get to go home to mom

Only this time, you are in the box
and the only things being served
are gallons of tears
and plates of sorrow

---

ALL PRESENT, BUT NOT ACCOUNTED FOR

I went away to war
and I came back to you...
you counted my arms and legs
and looked at my face
and you were satisfied that it was me
and that I was all there

You were happy

But ...you looked at my face...
you didn't look into it
or into my eyes

Had you done so
you would have asked me who I was
and why I was impersonating the lover
you sent off
to help save the world

I would have told you
that the world was saved
and they sent my arms and legs and face home
because that's all they had left...
there was nothing inside

Your lover and all he loved
dial with a nine year child
who dissolved one day
in a cloud of smoke and flames...

and neither one will ever come back

---

AN OLD FLAME

Editor's Note:

Last year Robert spent a few days in a NJ secure hospital where he was allowed to roam the grounds, and this poem came from that rare treat.

Occasionally
on an errant breeze
I would catch a hint of it. . .
new mown grass

It always carried a memory
of youth,
summers, and freedom

Today
after 28 long years
I got to lay down in it
again

Reconnecting with Mother Earth
consummating our romance
without the harsh, abrasive
skin
of cold, remorseless concrete
or rough, hot macadam
lying between us

Like reclining in a bed
of finest mink, or ermine
I was fulfilled. . .

My passions overflowed
and I was overcome
with tears...
the first tears in eons
that weren't tainted
by harsh biting
pain

The grass
in anyone else's yard
could never be greener
than that which was under me today

The green of money
never richer
than the green
I luxuriated in

Thank You,
Mother Earth
for these moments of bliss

I will repay your kindness
in full
when I return my body
to you.

---

 

SAGE ADVICE
Lot
and his wife
were told not to look back
lest something bad befall them

Being young, and invincible
I failed to heed
that cautionary parable

But
also being the sly fox
I schemed to avoid their fate. . .
I’ll not look back
but, think back
to recall, remember, recollect

And so,
I let our lost days and nights return. . .
Swirl into view, and overwhelm mind’s eye

Lot’s wife was turned into salt
for her disdain. . .
For my hubris
how do I get blood to pump
through a heart turned into stone?

---

IRAQUI ELEGY

It is the tinkle
of wind chimes
softly, in the background. . .
No
it's brass shell casings
falling on sun-hardened stone

It is the splash
of water falling
off the girl in the bikini
in the picture, in his pocket. . .
No
it is his blood
cascading onto sun-parched sand

It is the quiet
of life passing
into unknown eternity. . .
No
it is the scream
of voiceless grief
pouring from the lungs of a son-lost mother

---

OUTLOOK

I am of those who believe
different things on
different days
“Credo”
Steve Cowit

I used to think
fat people
were ugly
and then I saw
the kids of Somalia and Sudan
and fat became beautiful

I used to think
love was bliss
and ten I met you
and love became pain

If everything
is in your outlook
from now on
I think I’ll just look in

---

ARE THEY MAD

they wanted me to be
one of the six
that carried your box. . .
Are they mad. . .?

I can hardly carry your memory
and they want me to bear
your body. . .
Are they mad?

Why aren’t they happy
that I got out of bed. . .
That I got in the car. . .
That I stood in the church. . .
That I didn’t scream and tear my hair?

Why won’t they leave me
in peace. . .
or in pieces
Are they truly mad?

No. . .

I

am______________________