READING ME
I’m not liking this book, she says to me
Seated by my side on the train, same as always
Still she plows on
Into cliché characters she’s seen before
Foolish people making bad life choices she can’t admire
Twists and turns that make no sense
Still she plows on
Most times, I try not to take it personally
AMERICAN AN(A)THEM(A)
How easily we veer
From anthem to anathema,
First letter of the alphabet we brought from England,
The a as in apple,
Add it twice, before and after
Them
And there it is,
A two hundred year-old poem
Borne of bullet bursts in Baltimore,
Set to music from a British gentlemen’s club of music and wine,
Competed for attention with My Country, ‘Tis of Thee,
America the Beautiful and others,
Thought too high-pitched for average Americans to sing
But made official by act of Congress
And the pen of Hoover in 1931,
Amidst soup lines and joblessness
That haunt even now,
What would Key write now?
Of our flag grown fifteen and fifteen
To fifty and fifty,
Being itself both source and target
Of a war
Between repression and dissent,
Between black and white,
Between farmer’s husk and glass tower’s penthouse quiet,
Between hunter’s shot and madman’s barrage,
Between those who came here then and those who dream now,
Between US and THEM?
What would he hurriedly scrawl?
When our flag is too often unfurled and our song sung,
When our story is told
For convenience
By small gangs of money?
What would he write of the turning away?
From the hypnotic flashes of the bomber’s night
That obliterate nature’s starred gifts,
What would he say when the brother on the left
And the brother on the right,
The sister in front and the sister behind
Have nothing but close quarters shouting
At each other
And the other?
How would he inspire again?
To embrace our nation
And our humanity,
To have appreciation for it all
Wash over us
From sea to shining sea?
Would he ask instead for a moment of silence?
A blank page, a new view
Everyone’s view,
A world view,
A moment of clutching,
Loving
Silence?
LABOR DAY
Oh, to give back Labor Day,
Get back to work and out of bed,
If only to celebrate fairness, safety and just compensation
Every other day instead,
I’d surrender Memorial Day in spring
And Veterans Day in fall,
Work both days until I die
If we never send a soldier without really knowing why,
Honor our dead and celebrate our living,
Our country, our beautiful country,
That last Thursday in November
We have so long called Thanksgiving,
Yet we have so much work to do,
Against all odds, some may say,
So many minds to open,
To feel free on Independence Day,
Martin Luther King Jr. Day,
It was forever until you took hold,
For his birthday, in a Monday middle
Of January’s frigid cold,
Despite his lifetime of hope and sacrifice
You too I would erase,
If Martin’s love for all
Finds in all its righteous place.
MOTHER'S DAY, ALWAYS
Oh, that cake looks good,
Chocolate, double chocolate, and more,
Candles burning, waiting for a wish,
So I’ll make it now, fifty years on
I wish you were back here, just for that day,
Any day really,
So we could talk,
Just talk
I could tell you how I miss you,
Not waste time wondering if you were proud,
You were,
And in need of the same from me,
I am
I will always think of you,
Pray you had joy rising over pain,
And now only joy,
That we meet again,
Such is my wish, late perhaps
But with candles still aflame.
SPRING
first published in the Be First Media Group
I’ve had enough of the white stuff \ Frigid, miserable bite stuff \ Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rudolph light fluff \ If I wanted frozen hands and eyes \ If I wanted aching shovel backs \ If I wanted weather weather everywhere \ Meteorologists warning me of sights unseen \ Knocking traffic, sports and other chaos \ From the screen \ Polar Vortex inside my beaten Gore-Tex \ If I wanted to live in Minnesota \ Well then, I guess I would have
Calendar forward please \ Do it now, I’m on my knees \ Give me the pink dresses \ Young lover Central Park caresses \ Outdoor school recesses \ And easy forming smiles \ Lilies sprouting, umpires shouting \ And the dogs really do want to go outside \ We will walk the High Line \ And live the high life \ We will live and let love \ Again
This time I will appreciate \ This time I will remember \ You made your point back in December \ The rest has been a bit of overkill, don’t you think? \ We will raise our glasses any warm day now \ And toast nature’s power \ Her cruel sense of humor \ But another snowstorm’s coming Sunday \ Making this spring just so much rumor
SPRING TOO
first published in the Be First Media Group
Back at the table to negotiate \Warm blue sky running few weeks late \ One groundhog dropped |Another one dead
Give me one reason to get out of this bed \ Thin blood, thin patience \ Crazy texting drivers on all that black ice
Read entire poem →
FIVE AND TIME
first published in the Be First Media Group
Went to the Woolworth Building
Downtown Manhattan
To return some do-hickey
Read entire poem →
DEAR PAUL
Thank you, thank you, thank you
For this week's dollar
And a half
You do know how to show a girl
A good time
Let them tweet and retweet
Those spoiled elites
Your trillion dollar tax cut
Pays my Costco year
Say it loud, say it proud
No satire from you, dear Paul
Free samples for members
Turkey, pork, coconut water
Salsa and corn chips so blue
And when I'm feeling particularly bold
I'll invent a husband
And eat for two
Oh Paul, dear Paul
You get me and I get you
Thank you, thank you, thank you
For all the trickle down you do
SILENCE
All I ever wanted was freedom
To be me, at home with my family
On my farm, on my ranch, in my mine, on my couch
But you came calling, making it hard
I had the television on
And there were so many foes
I couldn’t hardly name them
Just knew they were there
But I had my long rifle
And hunt’s old reliable
Handgun in my waist
I was ready, always ready
Trust me, I meant well
But when the bullets came raining down from on high
From a place God should have been
Thousands of shells, automatic
For minutes, for hours, for the eternity we allowed
We just ran, we had no choice
And you looked the other way
For the next time
For the thousands of next times
Don’t blame you, not at all, I’m past that now
A well regulated Militia
Being necessary
To the security of a free State
The right of the people to keep and bear Arms
Shall not be infringed
I am not Militia, I am not secure, these are not Arms
Infringe me now
Millions of moments of silence
That’s all we’ve had
And I’ve been silent past one moment
To the next, and far too long
Because all I ever wanted was freedom
What the hell when we live in hell?
I give up my gun and demand yours for the flames
This is not freedom
Burn them all, I will find my freedom in the fire
All Rights Reserved © Peter Brav 2017, 2020