I can’t just
Read a book
Any more
At least
Not in
The conventional way
And never from
Just beginning to end
Rather
I dive into them
As if they were
Olympic sized pools
I ravage them
I read them
Backwards to front
And vice versa
Or I jump in
In the middle
If I fear to swim
In waters
Above my head
I need to
Fondle them
To makes notes
In them
To fold their pages
To physically
Mark my place
To stick my
Book marks
In them
Whether
They were
Engraved in leather
Or ripped from
A post it pad
And I can
Hardly read
A so-called
E book
Or digital book
At all
Although
I champion
The new formats
Kindle
I pad
Nook
I phone
PC
I books
As ways
For unknown
Authors
To get
Published
Especially
Since
The establishment
Publishing houses
The brick and mortar
Publishers
Have little or no
Interest in
New or
Unpublished
Writers
I recognize
That the brick and mortar
Crowd
Are on their way
To extinction
Like the dinosaurs
Of yore
Only it didn’t take
A gigantic meteor
Or comet
To blow them
Away
All it took
Was a new idea
Whose time
Has apparently
Come
Personally
I need
A good old fashioned
Book
Consisting
Of cover
Paper
Binder
And
Glue
That I can
Hold in my hands
And
Fold over my chest
As I doze off
For a nap
I need to be able
To feel the pages
Between my fingers
I need to be able
To know
What a book
Feels like
Smells like
Tastes like
I need to be able
To make copious
Notes in the margins
To underline
Important words
And sublime passages
To be able
To gallop
Though the pages
And chapters
Back and forth
From beginning
To end and
Back again
To me a book
Becomes a companion
A friend
A partner in crime
A confidant
A co-conspirator
A fellow traveler
A new world
A new universe
A new ocean
In which to dive
And swim
To explore
To ravage
And pillage
To rip out pages
In a fit of rage
If I find the writing
Infuriating
Or irritating
Printed books
Are living things
They breathe
And sing
And chant
And postulate
They hold court
And they demand
Space
A fitting place
To be displayed
Along with the rest
Of my collection
Where they line
Every inch of
Book shelf
Between
My endless supply of
Ordinary and fancy
Bookends
Lined up like
Soldiers
For parade review
Ready to go into
Action
At a moment’s notice
Read me!
Pick me!
Hold me!
Caress me!
Don’t forget me!
Books the size
And weight of
Bricks
Bricks with which
To build my
Castles in the air
I hardly think
That you can
Do all that
With just
A kindle
Or a
Nook
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
The Blank Page
The blank page
Stares back at me
Like a Rorschach
Drawing
Of my
Unconscious
Mind
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting
For a drop
Of ink sweat
To drip
From my
Forehead
Down my nose
And on to the
Paper below
Splat!
Splat!
Splat!
Black as ink
Like bullet holes
In space
What do you
Make of it?
What do you
See?
I see a bat
I see a tree
I see a breast
A nipple
Lips
Broken fingers
A dead bee
A piece of
Lemon pie
A lemon
A lime
A carrot
I see the faces
Of my
Grand children
I see my
Impending death
I see the mourners
At the graveside
I see the black cars
With their
Head lights on
I see a mound
Of fresh dug earth
I see a black
Sparrow
A raven
A crow
I see the entire
Cemetery
As if from
A hot air balloon
I see clouds
I see drifting away
I see amber lights
I see
Lightening bugs
I see
A weeping willow tree
Growing by the pond
Where I used
To ice skate
As a child
I see my daughter’s
Face laughing
I see tears
I see rain drops
I see cherry blossom
Leaves
Fall leaves
Brown leaves
Red leaves
Yellow leaves
I see an arch angel
Gabriel perhaps
Blowing his golden horn
Perched atop
A very high
Church steeple
And cows
Cows grazing
In the pasture
Shucking off
Clouds of
Flies
And bees
With the pendulum
Swings
Of their tails
Then another quick
Flash of lightening
And the silhouettes
Of the distant trees
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
Stares back at me
Like a Rorschach
Drawing
Of my
Unconscious
Mind
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting
For a drop
Of ink sweat
To drip
From my
Forehead
Down my nose
And on to the
Paper below
Splat!
Splat!
Splat!
Black as ink
Like bullet holes
In space
What do you
Make of it?
What do you
See?
I see a bat
I see a tree
I see a breast
A nipple
Lips
Broken fingers
A dead bee
A piece of
Lemon pie
A lemon
A lime
A carrot
I see the faces
Of my
Grand children
I see my
Impending death
I see the mourners
At the graveside
I see the black cars
With their
Head lights on
I see a mound
Of fresh dug earth
I see a black
Sparrow
A raven
A crow
I see the entire
Cemetery
As if from
A hot air balloon
I see clouds
I see drifting away
I see amber lights
I see
Lightening bugs
I see
A weeping willow tree
Growing by the pond
Where I used
To ice skate
As a child
I see my daughter’s
Face laughing
I see tears
I see rain drops
I see cherry blossom
Leaves
Fall leaves
Brown leaves
Red leaves
Yellow leaves
I see an arch angel
Gabriel perhaps
Blowing his golden horn
Perched atop
A very high
Church steeple
And cows
Cows grazing
In the pasture
Shucking off
Clouds of
Flies
And bees
With the pendulum
Swings
Of their tails
Then another quick
Flash of lightening
And the silhouettes
Of the distant trees
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
In My Hour Of Trouble
When I find
Myself
In times of trouble
Mother Mary
Comes to me
Singing words
Of wisdom
Let it be
And in my hour
Of darkness
Mother Mary
Comes to me
Singing words
Of Wisdom
Let it be
©The Beatles
Today is trash day
In my neighborhood
And we residents
Are supposed
To put out
All of our trash
Until the next
Pick up day
Next week
And in my time
Of trouble
The trash collectors
Come to me
Taking away
Piles of garbage
Until I am
Once again
Garbage free
Garbage free
And in my
Hours of darkness
The men in white coats
Come for me
Injecting me with
Shots of Thorazine
So let it be
Let it be
And as I wander
Here and there
All the homeless
Come to me
Seeking words
Of wisdom
And looking
For a place
To pee
And looking
For a place
To pee
They come reeking
Of urine
Always wanting
Something from me
So I give them
My loose change
And money
To help them
Buy some tea
So I give them
My loose change
And money
To help them
Buy some tea
I bring
Some bags of
Bread crumbs
For the pigeons
Who are stalking me
Asking me
For bread crumbs
So they can
Continue to be
So they can
Continue to be
And the squirrels
In the park
Keep begging
For food
From me
Since I am
In their home
And their
Needs are
Equal to my own
Maybe if I’m
Lucky
I’ll grab
Something to eat
Maybe a hotdog
Or a pretzel
Before I have
To retreat
To go back
To work
To the job
To my desk
To sit for
Another
Four or five hours
In total defeat
Staring at the
Computer screen
Until I can
Go home again
Leaving behind
The homeless
The pigeons
Mother Mary
The Beatles
Paul McCartney
My dentist
My bank loans
My post office box
The statue
Of William Penn
Perched high above
City Hall
And I join the
Homeward bound
Rush hour commute
In the staggering heat
Of yet another
Summer
Heat wave
And by the time
I make it home
And unlock
My front door
I am exhausted
And dripping
With sweat
And I wonder
Against
The rolling thunder
Of yet another
approaching
Summer storm
How much longer
I can keep
This up
How much longer
I can endure
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
Myself
In times of trouble
Mother Mary
Comes to me
Singing words
Of wisdom
Let it be
And in my hour
Of darkness
Mother Mary
Comes to me
Singing words
Of Wisdom
Let it be
©The Beatles
Today is trash day
In my neighborhood
And we residents
Are supposed
To put out
All of our trash
Until the next
Pick up day
Next week
And in my time
Of trouble
The trash collectors
Come to me
Taking away
Piles of garbage
Until I am
Once again
Garbage free
Garbage free
And in my
Hours of darkness
The men in white coats
Come for me
Injecting me with
Shots of Thorazine
So let it be
Let it be
And as I wander
Here and there
All the homeless
Come to me
Seeking words
Of wisdom
And looking
For a place
To pee
And looking
For a place
To pee
They come reeking
Of urine
Always wanting
Something from me
So I give them
My loose change
And money
To help them
Buy some tea
So I give them
My loose change
And money
To help them
Buy some tea
I bring
Some bags of
Bread crumbs
For the pigeons
Who are stalking me
Asking me
For bread crumbs
So they can
Continue to be
So they can
Continue to be
And the squirrels
In the park
Keep begging
For food
From me
Since I am
In their home
And their
Needs are
Equal to my own
Maybe if I’m
Lucky
I’ll grab
Something to eat
Maybe a hotdog
Or a pretzel
Before I have
To retreat
To go back
To work
To the job
To my desk
To sit for
Another
Four or five hours
In total defeat
Staring at the
Computer screen
Until I can
Go home again
Leaving behind
The homeless
The pigeons
Mother Mary
The Beatles
Paul McCartney
My dentist
My bank loans
My post office box
The statue
Of William Penn
Perched high above
City Hall
And I join the
Homeward bound
Rush hour commute
In the staggering heat
Of yet another
Summer
Heat wave
And by the time
I make it home
And unlock
My front door
I am exhausted
And dripping
With sweat
And I wonder
Against
The rolling thunder
Of yet another
approaching
Summer storm
How much longer
I can keep
This up
How much longer
I can endure
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Ain’t No Cure For The Summertime Blues
It’s no wonder
That I have
Bad dreams
At night
Who can sleep
With all this
Ungodly heat
AC humming
And buzzing
Shifting gears
Like a cement truck
Mixing and
Pouring concrete
For some
Highway
Construction
Project
I got bum legs
And my skin
Itches and crawls
From all the humidity
And the medications
That my pill pushing MD
Keeps tagging me with
The meds
Give me dry mouth
So I keep
A bottle
Of water
Handy at
All times
I have a swollen
Prostate
The bane
Of modern man
So I have to
Hop in and out
Of bed
A half dozen
Times or so
To pee
Half awake
Half asleep
Stubbing toes
Barking shins
Stepping on the cat
Hearing the neighbors
Fighting
Again
Thinking
I want to eat
Something
Sweet
Night time
Is a dangerous time
For diabetics
With late night
Sugar cravings
But wouldn’t
A nice ice cold
Coca-cola
Be just the thing
Right about now?
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
That I have
Bad dreams
At night
Who can sleep
With all this
Ungodly heat
AC humming
And buzzing
Shifting gears
Like a cement truck
Mixing and
Pouring concrete
For some
Highway
Construction
Project
I got bum legs
And my skin
Itches and crawls
From all the humidity
And the medications
That my pill pushing MD
Keeps tagging me with
The meds
Give me dry mouth
So I keep
A bottle
Of water
Handy at
All times
I have a swollen
Prostate
The bane
Of modern man
So I have to
Hop in and out
Of bed
A half dozen
Times or so
To pee
Half awake
Half asleep
Stubbing toes
Barking shins
Stepping on the cat
Hearing the neighbors
Fighting
Again
Thinking
I want to eat
Something
Sweet
Night time
Is a dangerous time
For diabetics
With late night
Sugar cravings
But wouldn’t
A nice ice cold
Coca-cola
Be just the thing
Right about now?
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Dr. Jack Kevorkian Is Dead
Dr. Jack Kevorkian
Is dead
He died today
In his bed
Of pneumonia
It is said
Of natural causes
Caused by the
Pneumonia virus
Spread
He was called
Dr. Death
By his friends
And worse
By his enemies
His crime
Was in helping
Terminally suffering
Human beings
To end their
Suffering
At a time
Of their own
Choosing
With dignity
And loved ones
Close at hand
Whether it is called
Death with dignity
Or assisted suicide
It came as a blessing
In the guise
Of a gentle
And caring
Doctor
Named
Jack Kevorkian
Who would not
Turn a blind eye or
Deaf ear to the
Miseries of the dying
Instead of letting
Terminally ill patients
Continue to suffer
All the torments of hell
For no better reason
Other than to
Prolong their
Suffering and pain
Dr. Jack
Answered their letters
And prayers
To put them all
To bed
So that their suffering might
Suddenly end
So that
Death with dignity
Would be their friend
For this Dr. Jack
Was put on trial
At least half a dozen times
Though no jury of his peers
Would dare convict him
He was put on trial
For the alleged crime
Of assisting the
Terminally ill and dying
To ease their suffering and pain
Not only was he sent to prison
But they also tried to
Assassinate his
Reputation
And his good name
But all that his
Tormentors
And detractors
Could ever have
Achieved
Was to increase
Dr. Jack's glory
And his fame
He helped so many
Who were suffering
To die a peaceful
Death
And he held
Their shaking hands
When they were
Breathing
Their last breaths
Dr. Jack was their
Truer than true
Godsend
Right up until
The very end
In the words of
The many
Whose suffering
He helped to end
These heart felt words
We now
So gratefully send
Thank you
Thank you
Dr. Jack Kevorkian
Doctor
Deliverer
Friend
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
Is dead
He died today
In his bed
Of pneumonia
It is said
Of natural causes
Caused by the
Pneumonia virus
Spread
He was called
Dr. Death
By his friends
And worse
By his enemies
His crime
Was in helping
Terminally suffering
Human beings
To end their
Suffering
At a time
Of their own
Choosing
With dignity
And loved ones
Close at hand
Whether it is called
Death with dignity
Or assisted suicide
It came as a blessing
In the guise
Of a gentle
And caring
Doctor
Named
Jack Kevorkian
Who would not
Turn a blind eye or
Deaf ear to the
Miseries of the dying
Instead of letting
Terminally ill patients
Continue to suffer
All the torments of hell
For no better reason
Other than to
Prolong their
Suffering and pain
Dr. Jack
Answered their letters
And prayers
To put them all
To bed
So that their suffering might
Suddenly end
So that
Death with dignity
Would be their friend
For this Dr. Jack
Was put on trial
At least half a dozen times
Though no jury of his peers
Would dare convict him
He was put on trial
For the alleged crime
Of assisting the
Terminally ill and dying
To ease their suffering and pain
Not only was he sent to prison
But they also tried to
Assassinate his
Reputation
And his good name
But all that his
Tormentors
And detractors
Could ever have
Achieved
Was to increase
Dr. Jack's glory
And his fame
He helped so many
Who were suffering
To die a peaceful
Death
And he held
Their shaking hands
When they were
Breathing
Their last breaths
Dr. Jack was their
Truer than true
Godsend
Right up until
The very end
In the words of
The many
Whose suffering
He helped to end
These heart felt words
We now
So gratefully send
Thank you
Thank you
Dr. Jack Kevorkian
Doctor
Deliverer
Friend
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Another Wedding Invite
Once again
I have been
Invited
To attend
Another
Family
Event
This time
A wedding
And you all
Know by now
How thrilled I am
On the subject
Of weddings
So what to do?
Do I attend
The wedding
And pretend
That I am happy
For the bride and groom
While all the time
Asking myself
What the hell
I am doing there
In the first place?
I have never
Had a good
Experience
Attending
Any wedding
Including my own
Most especially
Including my own
However
If I fail
To show
My face
Everyone will take notice
And everyone will know
And they will all be
Somewhat scandalized
And some will be
Genuinely hurt
While others will be insulted
The insulted ones
Will say
Well, what did you expect?
The man is a miscreant
After all
Well, I don’t know about you
But I for one
Would rather
Be called
A miscreant
Than a hypocrite
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
I have been
Invited
To attend
Another
Family
Event
This time
A wedding
And you all
Know by now
How thrilled I am
On the subject
Of weddings
So what to do?
Do I attend
The wedding
And pretend
That I am happy
For the bride and groom
While all the time
Asking myself
What the hell
I am doing there
In the first place?
I have never
Had a good
Experience
Attending
Any wedding
Including my own
Most especially
Including my own
However
If I fail
To show
My face
Everyone will take notice
And everyone will know
And they will all be
Somewhat scandalized
And some will be
Genuinely hurt
While others will be insulted
The insulted ones
Will say
Well, what did you expect?
The man is a miscreant
After all
Well, I don’t know about you
But I for one
Would rather
Be called
A miscreant
Than a hypocrite
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
What A Piece Of Work Is A Man
What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how
infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and
admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like
a god! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals—and yet,
to me, what is this quintessence of dust?- W.Shakespeare
Today
I was late for work
Once again
For the umpteenth time
Mostly because
I was dreaming
Again
And I wanted
To find out
What I was
Dreaming about
I was late
Getting started
Again today
Because
I am not
A machine
I am a man
I am a human being
And I have needs
I need to sleep
And
I need to dream
The dream world
To me
Is a kind of heaven
Where I can
Reunite
With loved ones
Long departed
How beautiful
And how precious it is
To be able to see
Their sweet faces
Once again
To hear their dear voices
Once again
To be able to
Share our tears
To wish
That we could all
Be together again
To share love
To kiss
To hug
To cry
To laugh
To be able
To apologize
For wrongs
Not yet righted
For hurts
Not yet healed
I remember
The words
Of my beloved
Mother Clara
Who
Once said
That if she could only
See her mother alive
One more time
She would gladly wash
Her mother's feet
And gladly drink the water
I may have been twelve
At the time
But even then
I recognized
The profundity
Of her words
And I repeat
Them again
Today
To her
In my dreams
Even
If
Doing so
Will
Make
Me
Late
For
Work
Once
Again
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and
admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like
a god! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals—and yet,
to me, what is this quintessence of dust?- W.Shakespeare
Today
I was late for work
Once again
For the umpteenth time
Mostly because
I was dreaming
Again
And I wanted
To find out
What I was
Dreaming about
I was late
Getting started
Again today
Because
I am not
A machine
I am a man
I am a human being
And I have needs
I need to sleep
And
I need to dream
The dream world
To me
Is a kind of heaven
Where I can
Reunite
With loved ones
Long departed
How beautiful
And how precious it is
To be able to see
Their sweet faces
Once again
To hear their dear voices
Once again
To be able to
Share our tears
To wish
That we could all
Be together again
To share love
To kiss
To hug
To cry
To laugh
To be able
To apologize
For wrongs
Not yet righted
For hurts
Not yet healed
I remember
The words
Of my beloved
Mother Clara
Who
Once said
That if she could only
See her mother alive
One more time
She would gladly wash
Her mother's feet
And gladly drink the water
I may have been twelve
At the time
But even then
I recognized
The profundity
Of her words
And I repeat
Them again
Today
To her
In my dreams
Even
If
Doing so
Will
Make
Me
Late
For
Work
Once
Again
jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011
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