Libby Weber's Blog, page 23

July 4: Sound Judgment

The soundscape differs on a holiday-

Construction sites fall silent, and the thrum

Of traffic fades beneath the morning gray,

As though the clouds absorb both sound and sun.

But sizzling grills and children’s’ merry shrieks

Will herald hot dog lunches on the grass.

And Stars and Stripes Forever seems the peak

Of sweet nostalgia, ’til the warning blast;

O fiery buds exploding into bloom

And strewing golden grains across the sky

How I adore your sulfurous perfume

As cynical displeasure you defy.

Though I a...

July 3: Putting Words in His Mouth

While Shakespeare wrote innumerable lines

That have forever changed our lexicon,

Too often one mistakenly assigns

A phrase to him that must then withdrawn.

He did not ask what tangled web we weave

When first we practice to deceive- that’s Scott.

No man’s an island- this you may believe,

But Donne it is, and Shakespeare it is not.

Poor Congreve, Milton, Marlowe, Franklin, Browning-

Whose pithiness shall ever be dispensed

By generations who insist in crowning

Shakespeare the King of Wit at their expense.

A...

July 2: A Tale of Honey

A poet sees the flower as a sign

Of transience, and beauty that will fade.

But to a plant, a blossom’s fair design

Ensures its pollinators will be staid.

And pollinators, heedless of the part

They play in reproduction, blindly seek

To take their tithe of sweetness and depart;

No poetry the process would bespeak,

Unless one thinks of honey, and the bees

Who perishable nectar do devour,

And metamorphose it with seeming ease

To that which never spoils- whence came this power

To change mortality to perpetuit...

July 1: Silencing Chihuahuas

An influential teacher once described

Those voices of self-doubt that plague one’s sleep

Chihuahuas, whose incessant yips and gibes

Convince one that the price of action’s steep,

Resulting in paralysis, despair,

Depression, paired with self-effacing fevers.

The only cure of which I am aware:

Replace Chihuahuas with Golden Retrievers.

“You ought to hate yourself, but I love you!”

“You should do better, but you’re the best master!”

“That thing you keep forgetting you should do

Do when you can, just throw...

June 30: Halfway

It isn’t easy finding time to write

In every day, regardless of demands

Upon your mental bandwidth and despite

Dismissal from those who misunderstand

The freedom that exists in structured tasks,

Such as the ritual of sitting still

And giving yourself latitude to ask,

“If this word doesn’t work, then which one will?”

I wouldn’t call it discipline- perhaps it

Is something in the satisfaction of

Creating things; Perhaps it’s even habit-

But at its root, it’s doing what you love.

So in successes, bask in jub...

June 29: Calibration

When asked to do a task that one will fail,

And no-one else could possibly fail less,

To acquiesce and know one won’t prevail,

Will always hopes of better things depress.

When bearing blows for others is the norm,

Perceived a toll for traveling the road,

Conditioned thus, it seems to be bad form

To point out the disparity in load.

So when new leadership makes a request

On finding to what you’re habituated,

That one speak up when one is feeling stressed,

With dreams of normalcy one’s inculcated.

Alas, whi...

June 28: Perfection Protocol

Just who can say what makes a splendid day?

Could it be weather, neither gray nor sunny?

Or lovely friends, or impromptu soirees

At which a game predictably turns funny?

Or maybe it’s that mix of novelty

And mourning those familiar things now past,

Although some aspects of the memory

Persist, despite unlikeliness to last.

Perhaps these complications and desires,

Thus born of what’s expected and believed,

Engender joy that naturally transpires

When perfect parity has been achieved.

The confluence of wistf...

June 27: Jump, Dive, and Whale

A whaling voyage loomed within the cards,

And having little wealth with which to hire

Harpooners, smiths, or doughty foc’s’le tars,

We set to sail, our fortunes to acquire.

But what fair wind t’was started at our backs

Soon chilled our hot pursuit clear to the bone.

Inadequate our floundering attacks,

Until I faced fell Timor Jack alone.

Such early victories are often Pyrrhic,

But this time, fickle fortune smiled on me,

For once, the chapter Symphony was lyric

Instead of pitiless as shark-filled seas.

Th...

June 26: Always Playing

Road trip vacations could have been the worst,

But we had Stinky Pinkies and Padiddles

With trucker honks and I Spy interspersed,

And in the desperate times, we played at riddles.

But as we grew, our games also matured

To “In My Pants” and “Who’d You Rather Kiss.”

But from these callow pastimes I was lured

By golden promises of lasting bliss.

For when I first heard Yellow Car described,

In which the yellow cars are pointed out

With non-car targets thoroughly proscribed;

A never-ending, never-winning bou...

June 25: On Othello

Though Hamlet’s Mousetrap shows a regicide

By deadly poison dribbled in the ear,

Far crueler is toxicity implied

By cunning tongue believed to be sincere,

A weapon won’t discriminate; a knife

Will slay without regard for class or wealth,

But slander visited upon a wife

Is an attack by proxy via stealth.

For Shakespeare knew the greatest tragedy

Was hurting those whose standings were precarious

By goading paramours to jealousy;

The innocent destroyed by the nefarious.

Four hundred years ago he understood

T...