Monday, April 26, 2010

ON EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN

I don’t know why
There is so much pain in the world.
But there is.

I don’t know why
People suffer so much.
But they do.

People shoot guns, shoot heroin,
Take cocaine and money that isn’t theirs.
And I
Don’t understand why.

Why does this world so full
Of beautiful places and things
Also contain such pain, decay,
Rancor and rage?

It does not
Have to be
This way.

There is a life so much higher
Than any mere mortal can dream
Just waiting for us.

A life of love.
A life of peace.
A life of strength and joy.

A higher life,
A Heaven on Earth,
Is just waiting
For us.

Heaven is here.

If we want it.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Pledge Drives Suck!

I came home tonight, flicked on the teevee and tried to find something mildly tolerable while I ate the "food" from "Burger King". I found a very interesting documentary on PBS about Luciano Pavarotti. I was enraptured, entranced, remembering all the reasons I loved, and still love, Pavarotti. And then the phone number for my local public teevee station showed up on the screen. The spell was broken, and the program interrupted, by two people asking me in their most earnest voice to support the teevee station by pledging membership. Two hundred dollars they wanted to take away from me; in return, I could have the DVD of the Pavarotti Documentary and a two-CD set of his greatest performances that I could get for twenty dollars in any store, if I look hard enough.

Pledge drives suck.

Hear me now, believe me when I'm six feet under. Public broadcasting isn't going anywhere, folks, any more than classical music and opera and orchestras are going anywhere anytime soon. Let 'em hold all the "pledge drives" they want; let 'em hold hostages for all I care. But when those two words "pledge" and "drive" join forces, that's your cue to switch to another station. And don't get all excited about the phrase "membership campaign"; it's a mere euphemism. There is always, always, and always going to be a Sesame Street, Nova, Wild America on your teevee. And Pavarotti, Miles Davis, Renee Fleming, and Sarah Vaughan are always going to be as close as the low end of the FM dial. Nothing can ever happen to PBS or National Public Radio. That being said, I'd pay money never to have to hear Morning Edition, All Things Considered, and especially Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me ever again.

Pledge drives really suck.

Back to Pavarotti: When my bliss was interrupted, I could not help but notice that one of the two people asking me for my money was a lady named Midge Woolsey. Here's why I feel sorry for her: Until about seven months ago, because the station Midge works for, WQXR-FM in New York, was a commercial radio station, she never, to the best of my knowledge, had to partake of a pledge drive. Since WQXR has gone all the way up the dial from 96.3 to 105.9 and become a public radio station, Midge has now had to participate in a pledge drive in both teevee and in radio. What a shame. By the way, would it have been too much trouble, if my local teevee station was going to hold a pledge drive, to have somebody from my local teevee station beg, plead and grovel for money? This way, Midge Woolsey and the big chin she was with would never have to be bothered and I could listen to Pavarotti in peace.

Pledge drives really, really suck.


Saturday, April 24, 2010

PHOTOS OF NEARLY NAKED WOMEN

It’s a funny thing about the young lady
On pages eighty-five and eighty-six
Wearing almost not a stich.

That ravishing woman with bedroom eyes
And the slightly open lips
Sporting a swimsuit
In Sports Illustrated.

She with the tousled blonde hair
Lying in bed
Covered only by her bedsheets
Buttressed by cologne advertisements.

You love her, don’t you?

But the funny thing is
That she
Can never love you back.

You can’t see the light and love in those
Bedroom eyes.
The way they connect with yours.

You can’t feel her hands on yours,
Her forefinger grazing your thumb.
She can’t squeeze your hand
And smile that glowing smile.

Her lips can never meet yours
And bring you that much closer to ecstasy.
You can’t see her moles, her flaws,
Her foibles or her magic.

I’ve stopped ogling the girls
In Playboy, Penthouse
And the strip clubs.
If you only felt what I do,
You would, too.

I feel, I taste, I smell, I love
The beautiful woman on my arm.

Monday, April 12, 2010

I HATE COLDS!

I Can’t tell you
How heartbroken I am.

Knowing what I know now.
Feeling disqualified.
Disenchanted
Depressed.

Think what a stuffy nose can do
To the rest of you.

Leaving you in bed.
On the sideline.
On the outside
Looking in.

And what must this do
To the life you knew.

No one to kiss or hug
Can’t hold your friends’ hands.
Don’t you dare spread a germ
If you don’t want to be banned.

This can’t be life or living.
This isn’t pursuing your dreams.
This isn’t following your heart
As sugary as it seems.

For everyone who wants to live
A life brave and bold
The worst thing that can happen
Is a cold.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Vignette

The old man in the Gators shirt and the matching white hat got up from his table at Panera Bread, approached me at mine and said, "For a man who isn't making any money, you sure are smiling a lot." To which I replied, "Why shouldn't I smile? It's Saturday." He'll never understand how rich I really am.