I am a poet and webmaster of the popular poetry site, Poems for Free, at http://www.poemsforfree.com.
VERY SOON I'LL HEAR THE VICTIMS' SCREAMS
Very soon I'll hear the victims' screams,
Even in the midst of my content,
The end not quite enough to quell the means,
Each nightmare not exactly what I meant.
Recruited in a time of peace, I went
Abroad to serve more adolescent dreams,
Not unaware, of course, I might be sent
Someday to where the widow wails and keens.
Dumb ignorance! For now I must repent
Aberrations no regret redeems,
Yet hounding me like dogs on mayhem bent.
HOW LOVELY 'TIS TO TAKE THIS TIME
How lovely 'tis to take this time
To greet our dearest friends,
To wish them health and happiness
Before the old year ends.
Darkness comes late afternoon
And winter lies ahead,
But friendship is a glowing fire
When all seems cold and dead.
Just as in some vacant barn,
Unnoticed in the night,
The whole of human history turns,
So we, too, make things right.
We must keep alive the flame
Though darkness grip the Earth;
For in the love we find in friends
Is our chance for rebirth.
I WANT TO MAKE YOUR HEART BEAT JUST FOR ME
I want to make your heart beat just for me.
I want a true love in my lonely life.
I've looked a long time, dated many men,
But none I walked with walked in step with me.
We walk together well, the best of friends.
Somehow we just fit, as if clean cut
To go together, zigzags complementary.
But now I would be something more than friends.
I know I take a chance to mention love.
I've no idea what feeling's in your heart.
But if you'd catch a burning, plunging star,
I know I'd make you happy for your love.
CHANUKAH ITSELF'S THE MIRACLE
Chanukah itself's the miracle:
How could we remember all those years,
Aliens lost upon a shoreless sea,
Not only scattered--battered, shattered, tattered,
Unwelcome guests of hosts unmerciful,
Knowing well the wellsprings of our tears,
A life devoured by identity
Holding on to legacies that mattered?
HAIL TO THE SEASON OF REMEMBRANCE
Hail to the season of remembrance!
A time of time both prized and put away.
Praised be ritual and honest semblance,
Put on like clothes to keep the cold at bay.
Years of love need regular attention,
Hearing but an intermittent song.
On holidays we gather for retention,
Lest time sever ties we would prolong.
In celebration, then, of life and love,
Destiny and hope and hapless mirth,
All ought let the season in them move,
Yet dancing to the limits of rebirth,
Sustained by what we know dear friends are worth.
SUPPOSE THERE WERE NO SPECIAL TIMES FOR GREETINGS
Suppose there were no special times for greetings,
Each day equally a holy day.
All things are holy just because of being
Shards of Being, lightning wrapped in clay.
One might then be merry all the time,
Needing no occasion for good cheer,
Seeing in each moment the sublime,
God born in every child throughout the year.
Reasoning thus, one need not leave bereft
Each everyday not specialized for joy.
Eden is a place we never left,
Though smoke and smog our view of it destroy.
In paradise all time is time for glory,
Nor do the angels choose one sacred story.
God is in all things with grace to be,
Shining in all seasons equally.
THANKSGIVING IS A TIME FOR GIVING THANKS
Thanksgiving is a time for giving thanks;
However, the reception's not so clear.
As we pass the drumsticks or the shanks,
No Maker holds such severed flesh less dear.
Kindness is a requisite for grace;
So must we be to all that suffer pain.
Gratitude seems slightly out of place
In places where compassion is less plain.
Very few this day will give much thought
In passing to the creatures that they eat.
Nor will we feel the empathy we ought,
Given that we are ourselves but meat.
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