An Embrace

A young boy comes home from school.
He’s been afraid to.
He doesn’t want Mom and Dad to see
What he’s been through.

He has a black eye.
His knee is bruised
And bleeds.
He feels abused.

Others would want him to be
Strong and fight back.
He couldn’t. Not today.
That’s why his eye and spirit
Are so black.

He comes through the front door
And sees his beautiful mom.
His tears start to flow.
His anguish starts to glow.

Mom comes to him and embraces him.
Tight and firm.
Her hands circling his back.
He needn’t squirm.

The boy’s tears dry.
He feels loved like he hasn’t
For a long time.
There are angels watching him
And God in the skies.

Mom would never hurt her son.
Neither would Dad.
This makes the boy feel so glad.

The greatest strength, thinks the boy,
Is in being loved.
Oh, to be loved
By everyone,
Like a parent loves a child.

Pining

Sitting here with my laptop

Writing this little piece

Waiting for that special soul

To bring my heart its peace.

Wondering when my time will come

(And would time pick up steam?)

For my soulmate to float down

From my sweet nighttime dream

Curious how a woman feels

From her north down to her south

Interested in everything she is

And what she’s all about.

Is this the foolish musing

Of a solipsistic poet

Or has my heart’s desire arrived

And I don’t even know it?

I can’t believe that all the angels

Are taken.

It’s a nightmare from which I need to

Awaken.

I hear my soul’s desperate cry

Its weeping I must heed.

May Cupid hear it loud and clear

And rush forth on his white steed.

My lover and soulmate waits.

Does she know how I pine?

For her affection and consort

To feed my soul divine?

RANT

There’s a film I’ve never seen that I have wanted to get my hands on for many, many years called Resurrection. It’s out of print and has never been released on DVD; Ellen Burstyn was nominated for Best Actress in 1980 for her work. Her character is visiting with her mother; at the end of the visit, Mom supposedly tells daughter: “If we loved each other like we say we love God, I suspect there wouldn’t be so much bother in the world.”

For a long time now, the bother has been bothering me. I see it every day in the course of my work as a process service clerk. As the papers pile up and I enter them into our “sophisticated” computer system, I can only imagine what goes on. Children being born out of wedlock to irresponsible and negligent parents. Divorcing couples who apparently can’t see past their rage toward each other, if they ever could in the first place. Corporations jousting against one another, apparently competing to see whose lawsuit is bigger and ironically required more trees to be sacrificed. And car accidents! Too damn many car accidents, and too many insurance companies baring their bloody fangs.

All this can be avoided, you know. No one seems anymore like they think before they act. No one considers the consequences of sipping the umpteenth Southern Comfort. Lookie here, that guy is gonna have it away with the little blonde tart, never mind that he has a wife and children that look up to him. And that seat belt sign flashing at the driver while he does sixty in a forty zone? Well, who cares? Who? Does no one care about the consequences of their actions? Can the siren song of wolf-like news reporters and bored cameramen be that loud and seductive? Has no one any shame anymore?

I dunno. I look around this world anymore, and I am aghast at what I see. It galls me that I live in a country where more people vote for a pop music idol than they do their president, and are encouraged to do it more often. I do not find Paris Hilton, Britney Spears or any of the other trollops and harlots attractive, and I am bewildered that millions of others admire them. Men do things every day that make me ashamed to be one; rapes, robberies, murders, and beatings. Up until January 20 of this year, I found it just upsetting that three hundred million people should hate one man so much and so deeply. I turn on the radio in the morning, and I hear the same two guys with the same first name talking about the same two things in the same zombiefied tone of voice. On my drive home, Dr. Michael Savage says I am a schmuck, a schmendrick, a putz, or a combination of all three. People get conned out of money in Ponzi schemes. Homeless people make the choice—the choice—to beg for money as I walk past. I could go on and on with this. But I can nothing that Paddy Chayefsky didn’t say far more persuasively in Network.

And have we listened to ourselves lately? Jesus! At my office, when I’m not hearing gossip, I only hear variations on about fifty key words and phrases. And I myself am falling into the trap; on the phone I hear myself saying the same thing so often I am turning into a walking, talking tape loop. It is so hard anymore, at least for me, to hear sentences that are structured properly, with nouns, adjectives, verbs, modifiers, etc., and to hear words consisting of fewer than three syllables. Far greater intelligences than I have referred to the “dumbing-down” of America. They fret, rightfully so, that Americans are becoming dumber, less cultured, and even more desensitized than they already are. These intelligences, I hope, will be happy to know that I don’t like to follow along in gangs.
Sorry to sound so negative, folks. Thanks for letting me rant. I do wish the world were full of roses and tulips, that families were stable and corporations didn’t run amok, drunk on power. I do wish we loved one another like we say we love God. No God I know would let this world stand at the precipice of its own ruin.

FAR AWAY

FAR away.
ALONE.

I’M OUT HERE.
YOU’RE OUT THERE.
I CAN’T BRING US TOGETHER.

In the shallow end of the pool.
Envious of you in the deep end.
Afraid to swim further out…
I can’t swim.

Desperate to dive
Deeper and deeper.
Wanting to mine and plumb
The depths of you.
Shyness forbids me.

Feeling my bones and blood
Tense inside of me.
Wanting to relax and set free
Just like you.

On my side of the glass.
Wishing I could be on yours.
Unable to break through.

Far away.
Alone.

Movies, Celebrity, Stuff Like That

--There are people in this world—they know who they are—who watch the Tony Awards on CBS every year, despite the fact they have never been to a Broadway show in their lives.

--I should have known Robert De Niro was a sellout the day I saw him playing Fearless Leader and, of course, asking the immortal question, “You talkin’ to me?” The day is fast approaching when I won’t want to listen.

--One day, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences will relax its rules on nominating actors for Oscars. The next day, cell phone video of Meryl Streep eating a ham sandwich on white bread in her kitchen will surface on Youtube. Meryl will immediately be nominated for another Oscar. (This was written some while ago, but this is particularly valid in view of the fact that meryl's got a new film coming out where she plays, ironically enough, Julia Child.)

--In America, nearly all the truly great actors and filmmakers are dead or getting there. Somehow I cannot imagine being sixty years old and hearing Lindsay Lohan mentioned among the greatest actors of her generation.

--In 2001: A Space Odyssey, how is the HAL 9000 repaired? Surely before taking off on his trip in the EVA pod, Dave Bowman had to reconnect HAL 9000; otherwise, he would not have been able to leave Discovery One. Maybe such vagaries are why they refer to it as science fiction.

--Do you know that there are people in this world—considerably famous people, at that—who alphabetize their canned goods?

--I will be just out of my mind with delight and glee the minute I find out that a new Woody Allen film has debuted to a $100-million box office opening. We are quickly running out of time to see it happen, I'm sorry to say.

--At some nebulous point in the recent past, Angelina Jolie and Mia Farrow must have had lunch together. I would love to have been within earshot if such a meeting ever took place.

--Boy, bagging on celebrities isn't as fun as it used to be. Bagging on the people who make fun of celebrities is a little more exciting.