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Thursday, August 9, 2012

Hiroshima - August 6, 2012

We set their air afire,
Just as they'd set our ships
With a great killing,
We brought to a stop,
Their killing,
A fairly rapid stop,
Perhaps too fast a stop,
Too fast for some,
For sure,
But who could know,
That these horrendous things,
Would come to pass but once more,
And now that bell tolls yearly,
Its lonely voice sings
Never again,
We hope.
Let us be sad
For those who died,
But let us not regret.
Their deaths bought life,
For others
Who did not have to fight.
Let revisionists glory in their guilt,
Their guilt is not ours.
We can pay our respects
To Enola Gay,
And to this day
Say well done.

Copyright 2012 by Gary L. Misch
All rights reserved - may not be reproduced without permission

Saturday, July 21, 2012

my place in hell

my place in hell,
is not real clear,
but this I know,
i'll bring some eggs,
the deviled kind,
i'll surf right in,
and look around,
to spot a vegetarian.

Friday, July 20, 2012

My Wish

- 17 Jul 2012 -

Scribe my name upon your heart,
I'll scribe your name on mine,
Hold me close within your soul,
Let me know we're bound together
With a love that's new and old.
Let me hold you when I will,
Stay with me forever,
Let's frolic in this world together,
And when it's over
Meet once more,
And frolic in the world to come.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Monday, May 28, 2012

Memorial Day - 2012

Dedicated to the Memory of The Project for The New American Century and In Honor of The Foreign Policy Initiative

Where shall we go:
Our interests are,
So many.
It seems.
We must shape
The world;
Our defense needs are
So great,
All else must bow before
Bridges and roads.
Let us not go too far,
Let us not stop that
March of pork.
But every other citizen,
Every other need,
All that makes us
What we are,
Shall bow before
Armies of Think Tanks,
With men,
Comfortable men,
They must be Comfortable
To Think,
Brilliant men,
No doubt,
All most serious
Chicken Hawks,
One and all,
Their advice?
Send your children,
Not their children,
Send them,
Send them
Wherever passions
Lest they percolate
To our disadvantage,
Let us shape events,
Shape them,
Make things safe
From democracy,
A beast so few understand,
(And fewer every year)
Best perhaps instead:
Build a wall about
Our freedom.
For sharing it with those
For whom it is
Is a dread disease
In itself.
Of course,
Those who've fought,
Nearly to a man,
Know better than
These wise men,
We don't consult them.
Thank you for your service,

A Veteran's Memorial Day Thoughts - 2012

March silent by me
For I finally sleep.
In life,
They made me march to music,
And those who never wore my colors
Called me hero.
I'm thankful that
I needn't hear their voices,
For I live within a land
Of eternal sleep,
Where only truth lives,
So we call each other
Only by
Our rightful names.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

A Meditation On The Death Of Osama Bin Laden

It's the first anniversary of Osama Bin Laden's death. A year ago, I awoke early to see, in the NY Times online edition, that Bin Laden had been killed. It seemed as if he'd been off our public psychic radar for a while, but not very far off, considering the unseemly demonstrations that broke out. At the time, I wrote and published this piece. The New Yorker, that bastion of superb, if incomprehensible poetry, understandably declined to publish it. I'm recycling it for the occasion.

It took a while,
But most government
Jobs do.
You had a good run,
And died a lion
In many eyes,
Though a caged lion,
In a cage
Of your very own,
Behind walls of your own.
Didn't know
There was a breed
Of Seals
That went over walls,
I wonder where
Your buddy Ayman went.
Perhaps it's safe
For him
To go home now,
I saw the wild celebrations,
Outside the White House,
At Ground Zero,
At the Air Force Academy.
Once we had:
VE day,
VJ day.
We cheered then,
For the dying
Would stop.
What of VO day?
I thought VO was,
A whiskey.
The dying won't stop
For VO day.
What's all the cheering for?
Celebrating the death
Of one enemy?
As if we'd won
A war?
We should feel
Just a little dirty.
Let us thank
Those who did this
Most necessary deed
For us,
Then let us
Go about our business,
And leave them with
Their thoughts.
I think I'll stop by
The old Ebbitt Grill.
Maybe I can find
A chicken hawk,
To have a celebratory
Beer with.
Rest in Peace,
If you can,
With the fishes.
There are no virgins
At full fathom five.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Thoughts Upon a River Bank

I sat upon the river bank,
And stared,
Looking for my future
In a starlit sky,
Hoping to discern
My way,
The way to bring,
My fate to hand,
To arm myself
For what's to come.
My tears wished
That my soul,
And all its troubles,
Might be washed away,
As the water that flows by,
So easy that
The Hand of God,
Might appear to carry it,
From here,
Down to the sea.

a place to go

i've had it with manhattan,
she said,
i'm moving to
where the air is
And a bit clear,
they have mini skyscrapers,
they don't reach
the sky,
they tower,
with us,
in wilmington,
it's just our size,
for now,
at least.

from an idea suggested by my wife while passing through wilmington
written on amtrak train 171, 23 apr 2012

Friday, April 20, 2012

The Northeast Corridor

(Thoughts on sights from a train window)

A loading dock unswept,
A parking lot that's etched in grass,
A thousand broken windows
Let the rain into
The empty
Fact'ry floor,

What is this place?
This lonely stretch
Of track?
The heartland of
Our Industry,
But with the Heart
Torn out.

The mandarins of
Have found a
Better way,
Made union with a
Harsher God
Across the sea.

Let us celebrate
Our loss,
Our loss means
Lower prices for
Us all,
A better life within the
Walmart World.

Listen as the men,
Wearing thousand
Dollar suits,
Tell us what is best,
And your neighbors
Down where they have
Never been.

Listen as your friends,
Listen as your neighbors,
Offer up belief,
In promises improbable,
And offer up their faith
To gods,
Already proven false,
False beyond all doubt.

Monday, April 9, 2012

The World That Jesus Saw

 An Easter Elegy - 2012

There was a world
That Jesus saw,
A world,
That was a place,
Of brothers,
And of sisters.
That world died apace.
It died of law,
It died of hate.
That world lives,
In the kindest hearts,
In the sweetest souls,
It can but beg
To emerge,
A brighter day,
When truth
Might be known,
And sects
Might no longer,
Serve of any
Until that day,
We all may pray,
In our own way.