City Hall

 

I was a second grader

and knew nothing of politics

or the importance of history.

I knew only of the excitement

of watching a wrecking ball

smashing into a huge, four story building

made of granite blocks.

I knew nothing about Eminent Domain

or the Interstate Highway System.

I knew the glee of a seven year old

watching a bucket loader filling

dump trucks with demolition debris.

“I guess that’s one way to fight City Hall.” someone yelled.

Peopled laughed.

I didn’t understand the meaning of that statement but I laughed too.

I didn’t get the symbolism of the building in front of me being destroyed.

I do remember one detail which I still question to this day.

As the wrecking ball took out a huge section out of the third floor wall a bathroom became exposed.

There was a large, claw foot bathtub teetering on the edge of the opening.

I asked my grandfather why they would have a bathtub in City Hall.

“Politics is a dirty business.” is all he said. 

Pockets Full of Sunflower Seeds

 

they were grandmothers

but they met the occupying soldiers

face to face

armed only with their defiance

and baskets of sunflower seeds

they left the baskets with the soldiers

with the instructions to fill their pockets

with the sunflower seeds

so their graves would grow beautiful sunflowers

as their bodies decomposed in the Ukrainian soil

 

they left the baskets

so they could go back home to make “cocktails”

from a recipe

that was broadcast on Ukrainian television

they had many cocktails to make

because there were so many soldiers

and it would be getting dark soon

and they vowed to keep fighting

even if they ran out of glass bottles

or gasoline

 

they would resist with whatever they could find

right down to the last egg

or water balloon

or the last liter of diet Coke

and Mentos

 

but they kept sunflower seeds

 in their own pockets

 just in case

Older Trees

the constant swaying of the trees

from them a lesson we should take

the winter air, a steady breeze

bend with the wind so not to break

but with high winds the boughs do shake

shedding branches that are fragile

while leaving litter in its wake

the older trees are much less agile 

2nd Floor Window

she still watches the world go by

but only now through panes of glass

a narrow view of trees and grass

a little sliver of the sky

 

and if she’s lucky birds may fly

her expectations to surpass

she still watches the world go by

but only now through panes of glass

 

and from her window she can spy

the busy squirrels as they pass

with all the acorns they amass

yes, from her window way up high

she still watches the world go by 

Workshop

filtered light

through dirty windows

illuminates the ancient wood

a workbench

and some antique tools

tobacco cans

full of nuts and bolts

a hint of oil in the air

a faded, water stained calendar

hangs on the wall

1936

the last year this land was farmed

sometimes I sit in the workshop

on a hard wooden stool

not to work on farm implements

but to go back in time

and take in the sights

and smells of 1936

my only tools:

a pencil and a notebook 

Words

if only I could lighten up your darkness

illuminate the shadows in your life

maybe help relieve a bit of anguish

add some color to your black and white

provide some shelter from the storm

or build a fire to keep you warm

 

if I could help you keep away the demons

chase away the wolves from your front door

help you navigate through troubled waters

encourage you to plot a steady course

take some of the noise away

or just listen to what you have to say

 

I tell you things will be okay

but I have no way of knowing

and sometimes all I have are words

but maybe that’s all you need to hear

and maybe that’s enough,

enough to give you hope 

Dreamers, Lovers, Poets

 

we were dreamers

when all we had was time

we had no money

but dreaming didn’t cost a dime

watching the world through shuttered blinds

coloring outside the lines

ignoring all the warning signs

nothing could’ve changed our minds

 

we were lovers

of convenience I suppose

to ward off loneliness

no emotions to expose

but play with fire and you’ll get burned

another painful lesson learned

another pensive lover spurned

another of life’s corners turned

 

we were poets

and all we had were words

carried dictionaries

like awkward English nerds

with big ideas and things to say

and information to convey

but other things got in the way

like all the debts we had to pay