Glory, Alleluia!

Glory, Alleluia! 

We have got to bomb Korea,
We have got to smash Iran!
The Senators are cheering
As the Saudis sing, “We can!”

We’ve got to take out Cuba,
and Venezuela too!
But see, we have them cornered
And smothered in doo doo!

Oh see, the bombs are falling,
Like manna, from on high!
Rejoice! Our Lord is singing,
As He watches from the sky.

So sing with him, oh hombres!
Give voice to joyous cheer.
Behold! The bombs are falling
And calling in the year!

Oh see, how frail is Yemen!
She sickens and she dies.
And it’s all because of bombing,
Along with loads of lies.

Let’s hail now all the bombers—
And even John McCain.
If only he were flying
To bomb Hanoi again!

A bomb is heaven’s angel.
It drops from up on high.
It’s brother is the missile
That’s arcing through the sky!

Oh glory, alleluia!
Oh glory be to Him!
For see, it now is raining,
And see, how mortals swim!

They’re thrashing now in rivers—
The streamings dark and red.
There are bombs and missiles raining,
And each will wreak its dread.

How wondrous is this blessing!
How marvelous, this grace!
And in the cloud that’s fiery
We see the angel’s face.

When seeking more of dollars,
Our parties are the same.
And that is why, at bombing,
We feel no trace of shame.

We’re bought and sold for dollars.
And that is all we know.
So when we learn we’re bombing,
We shout out, “Go, go, go!”

For bombs are naught but dollars
Transfigured.  And behold—
The men in priestly collars
Are urging on the bold.

“Oh go and do your duty!
For country, kill and die!
And do not pause or question
Or sort the truth and lie.

“Oh glory be to lying!
For lies have brought us gold.
The truth is sad and weary
And leaves us bare and cold.

“Oh glory, glory, glory!
For country, kill and die!
And never, ever question
When told the reason why.”

Our God has brought us dollars.
The Dollar—it is Him!
Let us bow now to the Dollar
As we watch the wretches swim.

2017 December 31st, Sun.
Brooklyn, New York
   

Hopelessness

Hopelessness

There is a value to humility
That those who’re blind from hubris cannot see,
But there’s a worth to all of those ideals
So often lost from scorn or apathy.

The eyes of children often brightly shine,
But when they’re older, then their eyes are dulled.
So also, men and women strive with zeal,
Until their strength is sapped by worldly things.

How many humans walk upon this earth
And yet feel nothing underneath their feet
Except the aches of age and weariness,
While trudging with the burdens of defeat?

When meaning and desire have both been drained,
What’s left is to what was before as is
The corpse to all the life that once had been—
Except, there’s a feeling left—of hopelessness.

2017 December 22nd, Friday
UFT teachers’ room, JHS K 220
Brooklyn, New York
  
Substitute teaching, for all its perils, offers a window of survival to those who depend on it for a bare living, and also of some remnant connection and usefulness to those who are retired from teaching.

Of course, some retired teachers have other sources of financial and emotional sustenance, and might prefer to stay as far as possible from the schools in which they spent most of their working lives.
 

Free of Sin

Free of Sin 
    

    
    
There are little birds that fly and perch
And chirp and sing out loud.
The wind is blowing through the leaves
And chasing waves on grass.
I hear the sounds as water flows
Along the little creek.
It rushes and it idles, swirls,
As frogs and insects leap.

The fish are splashing in that creek
And swimming in the pond.
The clouds are sailing through the sky
Of hues of blue above.
Who cares, on such a day as this,
While blinking in the sun,
For all the things for which this race
Of humans madly run?

******

The thoughts I thought upon that day,
The feelings that I felt,
Have risen in my mind today
And help me live again.
I remember sights and sounds
And scents—and on my skin
The touch of air and rain and sun—
And all that rain cleared day.

I saw the raindrop as it shone,
Suspended from a leaf.
I saw the rainbow in the sky,
While breathing in and out.
How pleasant was that air, that warmth
Of sun upon my skin.
In such a trance as that, it seemed
This world was free of sin.

2017 December 7th, Thu.
Brooklyn, New York