Millions of Jews
The whole world over
Hold their collective breath
Huddled around their radios
Straining to hear
The latest bit of news
Hoping against hope
That the 20th century
The bloodiest of them all
Still might hold
The seeds of promise
For a tired people
An ancient people
A wounded people
Fresh from the killing fields of Europe.
The United Nations meets to decide the fate of the Jews!
For or against partition of Palestine and the Yeshuv!
UN General Assembly Resolution 181.
Roll call!
Australia votes yes!
Egypt votes no!
America votes yes!
Jordan votes no!
Canada votes yes!
Syria votes no!
Argentina abstains!
Chile abstains!
United Kingdom abstains!
A million Jewish hearts beat as one!
Then, suddenly, the final vote tally is taken!
Thirty three for, thirteen against, ten abstain!
Like a thunderclap from the heavens!
Partition wins!
There are to be two states!
One Jewish, one Arab!
Hope is reborn!
The Jewish People again have a homeland at last!
After two thousand years of exile!
A Jewish homeland at last!
Hope!
Such a beautiful magnificent word!
Hope renewed!
Hope restored!
Hope rekindled!
With the simple stroke of a pen!
Hope, Hatikvah, again triumphs over despair!
No more need Jewish children
Tremble and shake in their beds
Homeless no more!
Stateless no more!
Powerless no more!
Cheering and crying
Dancing in the streets of Tel Aviv!
The world has changed
The tide has shifted!
From out of the ashes of Auschwitz
The Jewish Phoenix has arisen!
Resurrection! Redemption!
Shout it from the roof tops of Jerusalem and Haifa!
Shout it from the valleys of Galilee
And the orange groves of Jaffa!
Shout it from the mountaintops of Mt. Sinai and Mt. Hermon!
Am Chai Yisroel!
The Jewish People live!
By Jack Henry Markowitz © 2010
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Bleeker and MacDougal - The Hippest Street in Town
Scotch and soda
Mud in your eye
Baby do I feel high
Oh yeah, oh my
Higher than a kite can fly
Baby, do I feel high…
Scotch and soda
Jigger of gin
Oh what a spin you’ve got me in
Oh me, oh my
Baby do I feel high…
(lyrics by Kingston Trio)
Like a pigeon
tossed into the city sky
Where do you go?
Where do you fly?
Bleeker and MacDougal
The hippest street in town!
F train to West 4th
Play some B ball
On the corner
If you must.
Stop for coffee,
hot and black,
Espresso, Cappuccino,
Have a snack
Sit, snooze, sip,
Read some Kerouac.
Have a laugh,
sing a song
Who needs all that drug paraphernalia?
Who still needs to buy a bong?
Birdland, 8th and 44th.
Lovano, Liebman, Coltrane,
Big Sax Summit
Brother Phil on the keys
Food, people, wine
Not a sour puss in sight
Homing like a pigeon.
Bleeker and MacDougal
F train to West 4th.
To the hippest street in town
Did someone say
Cafe Figaro
May be shutting down?
Damn shame if you ask me.
In the blink of an eye
Here today, gone tomorrow
All the joy
All the sorrow
Poured out to the last good drop
Ah, well,
Let’s order another bottle,
Plenty of time
Until tomorrow
Plenty of time
Before the last train
Out of town!
Mud in your eye
Baby do I feel high
Oh yeah, oh my
Higher than a kite can fly
Baby, do I feel high…
Scotch and soda
Jigger of gin
Oh what a spin you’ve got me in
Oh me, oh my
Baby do I feel high…
(lyrics by Kingston Trio)
Like a pigeon
tossed into the city sky
Where do you go?
Where do you fly?
Bleeker and MacDougal
The hippest street in town!
F train to West 4th
Play some B ball
On the corner
If you must.
Stop for coffee,
hot and black,
Espresso, Cappuccino,
Have a snack
Sit, snooze, sip,
Read some Kerouac.
Have a laugh,
sing a song
Who needs all that drug paraphernalia?
Who still needs to buy a bong?
Birdland, 8th and 44th.
Lovano, Liebman, Coltrane,
Big Sax Summit
Brother Phil on the keys
Food, people, wine
Not a sour puss in sight
Homing like a pigeon.
Bleeker and MacDougal
F train to West 4th.
To the hippest street in town
Did someone say
Cafe Figaro
May be shutting down?
Damn shame if you ask me.
In the blink of an eye
Here today, gone tomorrow
All the joy
All the sorrow
Poured out to the last good drop
Ah, well,
Let’s order another bottle,
Plenty of time
Until tomorrow
Plenty of time
Before the last train
Out of town!
Every Poem Is A Victory
Every Poem Is A Victory
By jack henry markowitz
© 2010
Every finished poem
Is a victory
Over the soul killing system
That has been trying for decades
To kill
The poet
Inside every one of us.
So write, write
And write some more
Whether miracle
Cant or drivel.
Just a few more bars
A few more stanzas
And I really do think
We’ll finally
Have the bastards
On the run.
By jack henry markowitz
© 2010
Every finished poem
Is a victory
Over the soul killing system
That has been trying for decades
To kill
The poet
Inside every one of us.
So write, write
And write some more
Whether miracle
Cant or drivel.
Just a few more bars
A few more stanzas
And I really do think
We’ll finally
Have the bastards
On the run.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
A VISIT WITH THE GRAND KIDS
I recently managed to complete my long delayed visit to my grand kids in Charlotte, NC with a minimal amount of discomfort and fanfare although the trip by air was not without some stress. There still remains the expected amount of discobobulation (sp?) that goes with the security checks that have become a major hassle to air travel. I could single out Continental Air for special mention in the department of needlessly harrassing passengers but I will rise above the occasion for the time being. Enough to say that I was not a happy camper. The plane was cramped (to say the least) and they bumped me to a later flight after mistakenly giving away my seat to a standby passenger because I was delayed getting to the departure gate. Partly to blame for my tardy arrival (yes, I do admit I was five minutes tardy) was the fact that my feet were hurting me so much because I had on a pair of ill fitting sneakers. This discomfiture made me hobble about in excruciating agony for the whole trip. Lesson learned. Never wear new shoes on a long trip. Always wear your most comfy, broken in pair no matter how unfashionable.
I am not a very seasoned traveller to begin with (not that I ever really was). I am not called old stick in the mud by family relatives for nothing. In as much that the airlines now charge for checking baggage, I only took enough essentials that would fit into my carry on. No toothbrush, no toothpaste, no razor, no shaving cream. A change of shirts and underwear and socks was about all I allowed myself. It was supposed to be a short trip so I wasn't going to need a lot. I did bring a bathing suit. As luck would have it, the hotel pool was closed during my visit for unknown reasons. I liked the idea of travelling light. I also liked the amount of money I saved by not checking any baggage.
I am a superstitious person (as I freely admit, a gift from my superstitious jewish gypsy mother) so crossing paths with a halloween black cat just as I left my house was not a good omen. Also I had to return back to the house on two more occasions to retrieve forgotten items thereby losing the celestial escort of angels that my mother used to assure me was assigned to all travelers on condition that they not return to their homes to retrieve forgotten articles. So I was apprehensive to say the least. In addition I was very apprehensive about the security search that the airlines impose on all travellers.
Sure enough, at the security check point, I was told to remove my shoes, my belt, and deposit all metal objects into the baskets that need to be x-rayed before allowing folks to continue to the boarding gates. My stuff was flying in all directions. I think it was here, during all the confusion, that I lost my passport. In addition to the humiliation of having my pants fall down in public for all to see I was stressed out to say the least. But apparently I was in good company. Everyone seemed to receive equally bad treatment as far as I could see.
Once on the plane all requested amenities now come with additional charges, so a cup of soda and a small bag of pretzels is all that is offered for free. I was glad for the gesture as my sugar levels were playing havoc with all the stress and rushing about. Once I reached Charlotte, NC I waited for an hour and a half for the courtesy van to arrive. This was partially my fault for being hard of hearing and mistakenly waiting in Zone B instead of Zone D. When I finally made the connection and hooked up with my ride I suggested to the the hotel clerk that they use military lingo to communicate such rendezvous points by saying Alpha, Beta, Charlie and Delta instead of a,b,c,d. The clerk thought this was such a good idea (apparently no else had ever made a similar suggestion) that he charged me the military rate for my hotel room (a whole ten bucks cheaper!) thinking that I was somehow involved with things military. I accepted the act of kindness for what it was worth.
Meeting my grand kids (the youngest for the first time) was as wonderful an experience as people claim it to be. My daughter and her husband and her inlaws were as gracious and accomodating as could be and we all had a generally good time seeing some local sights and visiting with family for Sunday dinner. The weather was glorious and I was genuinely glad to be away from Philadelphia even for a short while. I am always preaching to my friends that a change of scenery goes a long way towards improving mental health and it felt good to be taking my own advice for a change. It (the trip) has rekindled within me the desire to go visit new places and see new things. I hopefully expect to do a lot more of both once I finally officially retire in about two years from now.
I came back home greatly releived to find my two cats (Katrina and Rusty) healthy and the house still standing pretty much as I left it. I took an extra day off to catch up on sleep and lower my blood pressure before returning to work and the old routine. I am now back in the saddle at work and pretty much settled back into the regular routine. My daughter sent me pictures of the visit with the grand kids and they came out very nice. I see myself smiling a lot in the photos so I must have had a really good time. After all, in this new digital age of pixel perfection, pictures don't lie!
I am not a very seasoned traveller to begin with (not that I ever really was). I am not called old stick in the mud by family relatives for nothing. In as much that the airlines now charge for checking baggage, I only took enough essentials that would fit into my carry on. No toothbrush, no toothpaste, no razor, no shaving cream. A change of shirts and underwear and socks was about all I allowed myself. It was supposed to be a short trip so I wasn't going to need a lot. I did bring a bathing suit. As luck would have it, the hotel pool was closed during my visit for unknown reasons. I liked the idea of travelling light. I also liked the amount of money I saved by not checking any baggage.
I am a superstitious person (as I freely admit, a gift from my superstitious jewish gypsy mother) so crossing paths with a halloween black cat just as I left my house was not a good omen. Also I had to return back to the house on two more occasions to retrieve forgotten items thereby losing the celestial escort of angels that my mother used to assure me was assigned to all travelers on condition that they not return to their homes to retrieve forgotten articles. So I was apprehensive to say the least. In addition I was very apprehensive about the security search that the airlines impose on all travellers.
Sure enough, at the security check point, I was told to remove my shoes, my belt, and deposit all metal objects into the baskets that need to be x-rayed before allowing folks to continue to the boarding gates. My stuff was flying in all directions. I think it was here, during all the confusion, that I lost my passport. In addition to the humiliation of having my pants fall down in public for all to see I was stressed out to say the least. But apparently I was in good company. Everyone seemed to receive equally bad treatment as far as I could see.
Once on the plane all requested amenities now come with additional charges, so a cup of soda and a small bag of pretzels is all that is offered for free. I was glad for the gesture as my sugar levels were playing havoc with all the stress and rushing about. Once I reached Charlotte, NC I waited for an hour and a half for the courtesy van to arrive. This was partially my fault for being hard of hearing and mistakenly waiting in Zone B instead of Zone D. When I finally made the connection and hooked up with my ride I suggested to the the hotel clerk that they use military lingo to communicate such rendezvous points by saying Alpha, Beta, Charlie and Delta instead of a,b,c,d. The clerk thought this was such a good idea (apparently no else had ever made a similar suggestion) that he charged me the military rate for my hotel room (a whole ten bucks cheaper!) thinking that I was somehow involved with things military. I accepted the act of kindness for what it was worth.
Meeting my grand kids (the youngest for the first time) was as wonderful an experience as people claim it to be. My daughter and her husband and her inlaws were as gracious and accomodating as could be and we all had a generally good time seeing some local sights and visiting with family for Sunday dinner. The weather was glorious and I was genuinely glad to be away from Philadelphia even for a short while. I am always preaching to my friends that a change of scenery goes a long way towards improving mental health and it felt good to be taking my own advice for a change. It (the trip) has rekindled within me the desire to go visit new places and see new things. I hopefully expect to do a lot more of both once I finally officially retire in about two years from now.
I came back home greatly releived to find my two cats (Katrina and Rusty) healthy and the house still standing pretty much as I left it. I took an extra day off to catch up on sleep and lower my blood pressure before returning to work and the old routine. I am now back in the saddle at work and pretty much settled back into the regular routine. My daughter sent me pictures of the visit with the grand kids and they came out very nice. I see myself smiling a lot in the photos so I must have had a really good time. After all, in this new digital age of pixel perfection, pictures don't lie!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Epiphany On A Sunny Summer Afternnoon
Epiphany on a Sunny Summer Afternoon
By
Jack Henry Markowitz
The hand painted sign read
Farm Fresh Ripe Tomatoes
Just ahead
Less than one mile
Sufficient warning
For any motorist on the hunt
For farm fresh fruit and vegetables
Visa and MasterCard gladly accepted
Armed with sufficient warning
I pulled the car into the parking lot
An easy walk to the entrance of the tent
That housed the bounty of all
That the road side farm stand had to offer
I set off in search of farm fresh blueberries
And perhaps some ears of sweet corn
When I passed
An older man
Which is to say
A man much older than I
He was seated
On a white wicker chair
His seersucker suit and straw hat
Only partially shaded from the sun
Playing with his little grand child
And her little dog Scotty
While mother shopped
For farm fresh ripe tomatoes
For only the very best would do
For her precious family
As I passed from sunlight into shade
I smiled and said hello
To the smiling man with the sparkling eyes
Who tipped his hat to show
That he had the softest of snow white hair
Looking to me like a Semitic version
Of an older Robert Frost
He smiled back and waved
The back of his hand
Dappled with liver spots
Medals of Honor
For a lifetime well lived
And then I thought
What if?
What if all had not gone
According to plan?
What if he’d been assassinated
Somewhere along the way
By the army of enemies
That he’d no doubt made
While clawing his way to the top
Of his erstwhile profession?
Watch your back
Cover your behind
Never falter
Never stumble
And above all else
Never make a mistake
Or else you will pay
Pay with your heart
And your soul
With the loss of your job
Of position
Of income
Of status
Of pension
Of family
Of Home
Pay with the loss of a softer
And more dignified place in old age
In post modern industrial society
When you are no longer able
To be either modern
Or especially social
Taken aback
I again looked to see
If the older man
Was still there
Seated in his white wicker chair
Playing with his golden haired grand child
And her little dog Scotty
While mother shopped for farm fresh ripe tomatoes
For only the very best would do for her family
He stared back at me
Curious, puzzled
Returning my unblinking gaze
Was I all right
He may have been thinking
Would I be okay?
Or would I falter and stumble
And make a mistake
Along the way?
Don’t worry he seemed to say
As you can see
Here we blessed be
You and me and our little golden haired girl
And her little dog Scotty
While mother shops for farm fresh ripe tomatoes
At a roadside farm stand
Sometime in the future
Half way between
Yesterday and tomorrow.
7/17/07
By
Jack Henry Markowitz
The hand painted sign read
Farm Fresh Ripe Tomatoes
Just ahead
Less than one mile
Sufficient warning
For any motorist on the hunt
For farm fresh fruit and vegetables
Visa and MasterCard gladly accepted
Armed with sufficient warning
I pulled the car into the parking lot
An easy walk to the entrance of the tent
That housed the bounty of all
That the road side farm stand had to offer
I set off in search of farm fresh blueberries
And perhaps some ears of sweet corn
When I passed
An older man
Which is to say
A man much older than I
He was seated
On a white wicker chair
His seersucker suit and straw hat
Only partially shaded from the sun
Playing with his little grand child
And her little dog Scotty
While mother shopped
For farm fresh ripe tomatoes
For only the very best would do
For her precious family
As I passed from sunlight into shade
I smiled and said hello
To the smiling man with the sparkling eyes
Who tipped his hat to show
That he had the softest of snow white hair
Looking to me like a Semitic version
Of an older Robert Frost
He smiled back and waved
The back of his hand
Dappled with liver spots
Medals of Honor
For a lifetime well lived
And then I thought
What if?
What if all had not gone
According to plan?
What if he’d been assassinated
Somewhere along the way
By the army of enemies
That he’d no doubt made
While clawing his way to the top
Of his erstwhile profession?
Watch your back
Cover your behind
Never falter
Never stumble
And above all else
Never make a mistake
Or else you will pay
Pay with your heart
And your soul
With the loss of your job
Of position
Of income
Of status
Of pension
Of family
Of Home
Pay with the loss of a softer
And more dignified place in old age
In post modern industrial society
When you are no longer able
To be either modern
Or especially social
Taken aback
I again looked to see
If the older man
Was still there
Seated in his white wicker chair
Playing with his golden haired grand child
And her little dog Scotty
While mother shopped for farm fresh ripe tomatoes
For only the very best would do for her family
He stared back at me
Curious, puzzled
Returning my unblinking gaze
Was I all right
He may have been thinking
Would I be okay?
Or would I falter and stumble
And make a mistake
Along the way?
Don’t worry he seemed to say
As you can see
Here we blessed be
You and me and our little golden haired girl
And her little dog Scotty
While mother shops for farm fresh ripe tomatoes
At a roadside farm stand
Sometime in the future
Half way between
Yesterday and tomorrow.
7/17/07
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
EN LA BOCA DEL LOBO
EN LA BOCA DEL LOBO
by
Jack Henry Markowitz (c) 2010
(Homage to Garcia Lorca
Translated from the original Spanish)
Ever since the day that you left me
I have lived in the mouth of the wolf
Lost in the forest of midnight darkness
My heart in shreds
Like the lone wolf in the forest
I cry to the moon
In a show of my grief
For all the other forest creatures to see
Some take pity and join in the mournful singing
While others take my measure and continue stalking
What they see as easy prey
Easy prey
And if the morrow should reveal
My blood soaked carcass
My spilled blood crimson
In the winter snow
Can you yet show me
Some gesture of kindness
And bury my pitiful remains
And cover my naked and broken bones?
For this last gift
I would be forever grateful
Though I cannot promise
To rest in peace
For my soul remains a prisoner
Jailed in the mouth of the wolf
En la boca del lobo
Una alma sin pais
by
Jack Henry Markowitz (c) 2010
(Homage to Garcia Lorca
Translated from the original Spanish)
Ever since the day that you left me
I have lived in the mouth of the wolf
Lost in the forest of midnight darkness
My heart in shreds
Like the lone wolf in the forest
I cry to the moon
In a show of my grief
For all the other forest creatures to see
Some take pity and join in the mournful singing
While others take my measure and continue stalking
What they see as easy prey
Easy prey
And if the morrow should reveal
My blood soaked carcass
My spilled blood crimson
In the winter snow
Can you yet show me
Some gesture of kindness
And bury my pitiful remains
And cover my naked and broken bones?
For this last gift
I would be forever grateful
Though I cannot promise
To rest in peace
For my soul remains a prisoner
Jailed in the mouth of the wolf
En la boca del lobo
Una alma sin pais
You Ought To Be In Pictures
I have read and heard that some societies do not take pictures of friends and relatives for fear of somehow stealing their immortal souls. This is not the case with picture happy Americans who are always snapping pictures of this or that by virtually every means available in today's high tech society. I do believe that the act of taking pictures/photos can be very powerful means of freezing a moment in time in ways that are stunning and captivating. Taking photos may in fact be the only means of stopping time as we humans experience time in all of its fleeting reality.
We are creatures of time, more so than any other animal on this planet. We measure time constantly. The inexorable tick tock of the clock clicks off the moments of our lives with irresistible force. This inability to stop the flow of time scares us; we fear the grain by grain sifting of sand through hour glass of our lives, knowing (as no other animal does) that our time is limited and that no matter how good we are, or how pretty we are, or how many good deeds we may or may not do, the drip, drip of the sands of time cannot be stopped; and when the sand grains run out, so do we, our lives are at an end. No amount of bargaining, of praying, or cajoling can alter this fact. And this knowledge of the ultimate finitude of our lives both motivates our actions (or lack thereof) and fills us with a terrible dread that we will not have accomplished all that we desire in this life; that we will not have lived our lives to the fullest; In fact, many of us do realize that we are not living our lives to the fullest potential.
We too often become "couch potatoes", endlessly flipping the remote control in search of entertainment to help fill the empty hours of our lives. We are aware that there are perhaps more fulfilling ways to spend our time, yet inertia, or lethargy or illness may keep up on the couch instead of pursuing a more active and engaged life style. Someone once said that Life is not a spectator sport, but how many of us are the doers and how many of us are content to just watch? I plead guilty to this pattern of behavior. I would hate to calculate the number of hours I have wasted semi-awake, just clicking the remote or surfing the internet.
There is no easy solution to this wasting of time. We chastise our children for the very slothful postures and procrastinating that we ourselves are also just as guilty of doing. It is very hard to break the sloth cycle, especially in bad weather (hot or cold) when staying immobile under the AC or in front of the fireplace gives us the perfect excuse. The physical and mental consequences of this lackadayzicle life style is all to plain. We pay for our inactivity with weight gain, flabby bodies and flabby muscles. We can't sleep, or enjoy the activities that once brought us pleasure. Obesity is epidemic, along with Diabetes, high blood pressure and high cholesterol, leading to heart disease, stroke, and cancer.
The Jewish New Year is just around the corner. This is as good a time as any to make new resolutions to become more physically active and more conscious of how many calories we consume. I was once a two pack a day cigarette smoker. It took years of trying to finally break the cigarette habit, but I did manage to succeed eventually. I know I can also increase my activity level and cut back on calories once I put my mind to it. And therein lies the rub. Mind over matter.
I am overweight (I hate the word obese, but if the shoe fits) and I have Type 2 Diabetes (the two are related I am often told). Fine, so be it. I have resolved to make a change (hopefully for the better). I know my friends wish me well in this endeavor. I appreciate expressions of support.
As Dylan Thomas once wrote, Time holds me green and dying, though I sing in my chains like the sea! Every journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step. My journey begins today. Wish me luck!
We are creatures of time, more so than any other animal on this planet. We measure time constantly. The inexorable tick tock of the clock clicks off the moments of our lives with irresistible force. This inability to stop the flow of time scares us; we fear the grain by grain sifting of sand through hour glass of our lives, knowing (as no other animal does) that our time is limited and that no matter how good we are, or how pretty we are, or how many good deeds we may or may not do, the drip, drip of the sands of time cannot be stopped; and when the sand grains run out, so do we, our lives are at an end. No amount of bargaining, of praying, or cajoling can alter this fact. And this knowledge of the ultimate finitude of our lives both motivates our actions (or lack thereof) and fills us with a terrible dread that we will not have accomplished all that we desire in this life; that we will not have lived our lives to the fullest; In fact, many of us do realize that we are not living our lives to the fullest potential.
We too often become "couch potatoes", endlessly flipping the remote control in search of entertainment to help fill the empty hours of our lives. We are aware that there are perhaps more fulfilling ways to spend our time, yet inertia, or lethargy or illness may keep up on the couch instead of pursuing a more active and engaged life style. Someone once said that Life is not a spectator sport, but how many of us are the doers and how many of us are content to just watch? I plead guilty to this pattern of behavior. I would hate to calculate the number of hours I have wasted semi-awake, just clicking the remote or surfing the internet.
There is no easy solution to this wasting of time. We chastise our children for the very slothful postures and procrastinating that we ourselves are also just as guilty of doing. It is very hard to break the sloth cycle, especially in bad weather (hot or cold) when staying immobile under the AC or in front of the fireplace gives us the perfect excuse. The physical and mental consequences of this lackadayzicle life style is all to plain. We pay for our inactivity with weight gain, flabby bodies and flabby muscles. We can't sleep, or enjoy the activities that once brought us pleasure. Obesity is epidemic, along with Diabetes, high blood pressure and high cholesterol, leading to heart disease, stroke, and cancer.
The Jewish New Year is just around the corner. This is as good a time as any to make new resolutions to become more physically active and more conscious of how many calories we consume. I was once a two pack a day cigarette smoker. It took years of trying to finally break the cigarette habit, but I did manage to succeed eventually. I know I can also increase my activity level and cut back on calories once I put my mind to it. And therein lies the rub. Mind over matter.
I am overweight (I hate the word obese, but if the shoe fits) and I have Type 2 Diabetes (the two are related I am often told). Fine, so be it. I have resolved to make a change (hopefully for the better). I know my friends wish me well in this endeavor. I appreciate expressions of support.
As Dylan Thomas once wrote, Time holds me green and dying, though I sing in my chains like the sea! Every journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step. My journey begins today. Wish me luck!
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