Doing only what we’re told
Not all sects are cults, it’s clear,
But each cult is too a sect:
All others are seen with fear,
Only those inside respect.
If we tell ourselves a lie
And repeat it night and day
Soon it is all right to kill
Any that our leaders say
Go against our own god’s will…
Steven Shoemaker
Urbana, Illinois
[Friday, November 13, 2015, Paris]
Some think a score-keeper’s in heaven.
They say that it simply must be.
For life here below,
It’s easy to show,
Is not fair for you or for me…
You’re sweet and always kind-hearted,
But also as poor as a bird.
I’m mean as a snake,
But I always make
So much money, it’s simply absurd!
You work-out, but never are healthy.
I drink booze and lounge with TV.
I’m never unwell,
And all can just tell
I’ll out-live you, just wait and see.
Some say Justice waits till here-after.
The scales must be balanced up there.
I hope that a BRIBE
Will get me inside,
And that Heaven will still not be fair!
Trains are steel and men are flesh–
When they meet some men will die.
He lay crushed, those passing by,
“He was just a railroad man.”
The dispatcher heard them talk–
He told his friends down at the Y.
Cleveland built a Railroad Y
Welcomed all the working men.
Nineteen hundred eleven
Saw two hundred railroad Y’s
Eat some chow, get some shut-eye,
Read a book–a healthy man.
Railroads paid for about half–
Workers gave to help their life.
Dignity, respect, human:
Yes, he was a railroad MAN.
St. Louis Railroad YMCA, now a Drury Inn
Primary
Epidemiologist
Dermatologist
EENT
Podiatrist
Cardiologist
Audiologist
Urologist
Ophthalmologist
Surgeon
Anesthesiologist
When young, it was always the same:
At the Clinic, just one Doctor came.
There now are so many
It’s not even funny–
I no longer know my Doc’s name.
Each year pounds have started to show.
On belly and butt they do grow.
I decided then
That I would lose ten
And I only have fifteen to go!
Eugene Field
is Spinning in his Grave
The computer, smartphone, and iPad too
Are all that this child could want.
With Clash of Clans, and Auto-Theft 2,
I’ll always be so smart
School studies can suffer–no homework tonight–
I might watch a little TV,
But my brain is exploding, I’m feeling all right,
There’s nothing the matter with me,
I’m happy as I can be:
With computer,
Smartphone
And Pad.
Now Mother and Father will sputter and fuss–
They don’t understand at all.
For Granny and Gramps said, “Read! You Must!
Or all your grades will fall!”
But we take exams on computers at school,
No notes, but txts we snd!
The Principal axed the No Gizmos rule
So our school-wide strike would end–
“Unions Forever, my friend!”
With computer,
Smartphone,
And Pad!
Question Mrk
Sending a son or daughter off to college is hard for a parent.
Steve captured the sentiment in this piece “written in 1988 when my son, Daniel, left home to go to Northwestern University in Evanston, IL.”
To choose a title first is such an act
of pride (as if one knows just where a thought
will go.) Is “Saying Goodbye to Our Son”
a better choice than “Letting Go?” And when
is specificity superior
to breadth? Do only parents know the fear
of being left behind when children leave?
Is every parting death, a tiny grave?
A title should invite…entice…alert
the reader to the text. But what comes next?
That is the question. Eyes will open wide
and see new truth. Will truth lead to the good?
We hug and hope and wave goodbye. The path
twists back and then away (“A Brand New Birth?)
the torah says the world was made
in 6 days then g_d rested our
big family gave gifts of food
& drink & games & laughs & more
for 7 days without a break
because for 5 decades my wife
& i were too stubborn to make
a split of course there had been strife
im often selfish or a jerk
so get a spouse who will not talk
& have 2 kids who always look
at the best side of what they see
give thanks for generosity
& for the worlds best family
NOTE: Happy 50th Anniversary, Steve and Nadja.
…Fear, expecting a disaster,
dread…are all too strong.
The family reunion may be fun,
friendly, peaceful, but the people
coming delete relatives’ posts
on FaceBook, some hate Obama,
some named their babies Malia
and Sasha.
…Some smoke, where will they put
cigarettes? Some drink too much,
will they get sloppy? Will talkers
ever shut up? Will there be enough food?
…The beach house is huge, but if it rains
for three days, cabin fever will boil over.
Who will get sick, who will get hurt?
…Eyes are wary, tones are overly polite.
Cousins are circling. In-laws are doubtful.
Brothers and sisters are staying close.
Spouses exchange knowing looks.
The young kids run to the beach.
Published with apologies to Steve for substituting …s for indentations.
slipping
one toe out
tentatively
bring it
back
shame
leap forward
fear
cower coward
SUCCESS
temporarily
start over
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, May 12, 2015,
Views from the Edge 