Libby Weber's Blog, page 10

November 8: Day of the Living

Two women, separated by three years,

Two thousand, seven hundred sixty miles,

And three time zones, but linked by blood and tears

Pick up their phones with matching wistful smiles

And dial the number of their elder brother

To wish him happy birthday both at once,

Thus making him ring off to greet the other

And share amusement at their timely stunts.

Though it may seem a sheer coincidence

For two to reach out quite concurrently,

It feels right in the context of events

Affecting the entire family.

A day of...

November 7: O My Sainted Aunt

My evening walk brought me up to a wall

Where previously a set of stairs had been-

A set of rotten roots had caused to fall

A mighty eucalpytus, clad in green.

When morning dawned, the screen of leaves had gone,

The trunk chopped into manageable blocks,

Though doughty bannister had undergone

A transformation from the sudden shock.

So when today a much beloved tree

From whose progenitors I also grew

Succumbed to unrelenting gravity,

We in her shade were also knocked askew.

Though we feel broken now, we ar...

November 11: O My Sainted Aunt

My evening walk brought me up to a wall

Where previously a set of stairs had been-

A set of rotten roots had caused to fall

A mighty eucalpytus, clad in green.

When morning dawned, the screen of leaves had gone,

The trunk chopped into manageable blocks,

Though doughty bannister had undergone

A transformation from the sudden shock.

So when today a much beloved tree

From whose progenitors I also grew

Succumbed to unrelenting gravity,

We in her shade were also knocked askew.

Though we feel broken now, we ar...

November 6: Hopeless

Elections did not go as I had hoped,

Despite the plethora of hopeful signs

So with grave disappointment I must cope…

Aww. Look at that sweet puppy. HE IS MINE!

Alas, perspective is in short supply-

When one can figure in pain and depresssion,

Replacing want with wising to comply,

FOR GOODNESS SAKES, do YOU see THAT EXPRESSION???

How can I gaze upon my silly pups

Without feeling my heart from time to time?

From nearby congregant I’ll take the cups,

But puppy kisses might just prove sublime.

So seize the s...

November 5: Sport

I tossed the birdie high into the sky

Then spiked it with my trusty ping-pong paddle

Alas, my shrewd opponent did decry

The placement of my flag preceding battle,

But lo, he stood in a reversal zone,

And so my penalty on him would fall

Through song and dance my error to atone,

Except I raised aloft the volleyball

And threw it mightily into a tree

Where it did lodge- a most palpable hit

Which made the score purple to forty-three

Until it dawned: my goal was opposite.

For chaos holds insanity in thrall

When...

November 4: All For An “I Voted” Sticker

My phone was silent in the falling dusk.

No campaign flyers clogged our daily mail.

No nosy pollsters forced me to be brusque,

As they my doors and worried dogs assail.

The only sign that we have reached the end

Of this incessant, scurrilous campaign:

Long lines of cars the polling sites attend

As hopefuls pray their wait won’t be in vain.

Now precincts certify and bubbly flows

To celebrate or offer consolation

To challengers, incumbents, and all those

Whose efforts irritated all the nation,

I’m equally...

November 3: Time Management

My calendar and I are on good terms:

It tells me where and when and what to be,

And leaves to me deciding what is firm

And what was added arbitrarily,

And so when double bookings do occur,

Inevitable as housework, death, and taxes,

To sanity and wellness I defer

And other limitations learned through praxis.

But at this I’m not always that successful,

Since sometimes business slips between the cracks,

And sussing out one’s loyalties is stressful,

Which leaves a dearth of moments to relax.

But for the nonc...

November 2: All Saints

For all the Saints, who since Thursday will rest

Until next Sunday, when San Francisco

Shall play them as with Lucifer possessed,

For Saints have hands that pilgrims’ hads forgo,

For saints must make two miracles occur

To be considered thus by orthodoxy.

But if a mundane wonder one prefers,

Would that not be a kind of paradoxy?

That happenstance that happens to bring joy,

Those grand coincidences that conspire

To bring indulgences that never cloy,

Can such a thing by happy chance transpire?

Such pleasing...

November 1: Midterm

Like Brooks’s Crazy Woman I will look

At this eleventh month with certain glee,

Although the song I sing won’t be mistook

For dissidence, just yearning to be free

From regular bombardment by the phone,

TV, mail, radio, and door to door,

All seeking to condemn or to condone

Opinions they would normally ignore.

But when my ballot’s cast, the calls will cease,

The lobbying machine will disappear,

Or hibernate and gradually increase

To burst forth in the next election year.

‘Gainst swaths of candidates and p...

October 31: Cloud Allusions I Recall

“Bright Star,” a musical collaboration

Between Steve Martin and Edie Brickell,

Whose title comes from Keats, whose exhortation

Tells paramours in patience they should dwell,

Competes with Randall Thompson for delight,

Whose setting of “Choose Something Like a Star”

By Robert Frost, with Keats’s Eremite,

One seen up close and one seen from afar.

But who’s to say two works that might allude

With learned respect to one immortal piece

That by chronology one might preclude

The other’s fame, its prominence de...