The Poetry Marathon

You ask What is War and Why do we have it?

Some will say for Honor, Glory, Duty, Loyalty, Integrity.

But I will say for boots, uniforms, glasses, helmets, food, tents, computers, software, jeeps, trucks, ships, planes, bullets, guns, bombs, and drones.

War is Big Business and Big Money and always ends with someone saying, “Thank you for your service.”

But where is the Honor, Glory, Duty, Loyalty, Integrity in Big Business and Big Money that makes War?

Now you ask me why do we have War?

I say to you just reread what is written above.

It is hell to get old of that I’m told. But I’m still not certain why?

I used to be able to see my toes when I looked down.

Five ponds of potatoes weigh more than they used to.

The road signs have been changed and made smaller.

Strange things float in the air and become imbedded in my skin.

I enter rooms and can’t remember the reason.

Sleep is my newest hobby.

There is a difference between my grandchildren’s names and my dogs, sometimes.

Exercise (highly overrated) has become lifting my glass to my lips.

Beautiful girls call me Sir in bars.

I still chase my wife around the bed but don’t remember what to do when I catch her,

It is Hell to get old of that I’m told

Now I know why!

You point your index finger at your student.

“You didn’t pay attention. You didn’t listen. You didn’t study. You fell asleep. You looked around. Your phone was out.”

You……………………………..You…………………You…………………You……………….You……………………..You………………………

“No wonder you failed.”

Yes, the Fingers tell the story. While one is pointing at the student Three are pointing back at you!

A U.S. Marine walking down Front Street is waiting to hit the beaches on Iwo Jima.

Fifty years  later his son walking down Front Street is waiting to hit the beaches on Maui.

Both on the same street waiting to hit a beach inexorably linked through time and space. If the first is not successful neither will be the second.

Front Street, where the past and the present collide, in the flickering of a moment, for reasons known only to a select few.

Is the cup half empty or half full?

They cancelled the outdoor party. The reservoir is less than hearty.

We have a game to play. My lawn’s burned out and looks like hay.

It’s an outdoor concert. The fires are raging. You’re now on the spot. Do you want the rain or not?

p.s. Please turn the faucet off while brushing your teeth. ( The preceding has been a public service poem)

No one had, so why would she? She wouldn’t, she couldn’t, she shouldn’t.

A high school graduate in her family, unheard of.

Pride? No, disdain.

A hero. No, an outcast.

Something to live for or something to die for.

She kept those thoughts in her head as she went through commencement without any family members present.

She kept those thoughts in her head as she walked through the front door and was asked where she had been?

She kept those thoughts in her head as she slipped into the bathtub holding her diploma in one hand and a razor blade in the other.

Tell me old girl, what have you seen since your founding in 1831?

Ah, a King, a Queen, a Governor and a President, chaos, anarchy, revolution and war.

Fires and winds have threatened you but the students fears and joys have kept you alive.

Your boys have fought on the gridiron and on the beaches of Europe

Yes, a lot has happened since 1831 and yet you still stand proudly in the sun.

You shuddered as you were told that students would not be allowed back within your walls and you were very sad. But then you became glad when you were told it was time for a return to normalcy.

What is normal for you? I’m sure if I had more time you would tell me what that would be. But, for now, you’ve said a lot.

I leave, feeling some of the pain and joy of Lahainaluna since 1831.

Millions have walked up and down my sidewalks. Some come to shop, to dine or just to feel my island warmth.

Suddenly I was alone, deserted. I was calling out with tears of desperation. People where are you?

Where are the footsteps that trod on me. Where is the laughter and the joy from feeling the ocean mist, seeing  a spectacular sunset or just enjoying Aloha. I was feeling such emptiness. Then it struck me. This too shall pass.

They will return as they always have. And why? Because no virus is greater than me. I will be here long after it is gone.

I am Front Street

“Mr. Watson come here. I want to see you.”

“Good morning operator. Please connect me with Mr. Watson.”

I’m searching for Mr. Watson on my rotary phone.

If only I had seventy five cents more they’d connect me with Mr. Watson.

“Damn, I hit the wrong button. Now I’ll never find Mr. Watson.”

“Hey Siri. Connect me with Mr. Watson.”

My colleagues are all left wing liberals. I am a right wing conservative.

I managed the financial affairs of gays and lesbians. I am straight.

My best friend is Jewish. I am a Christian.

My neighbor’s car is electric. My car runs on gasoline.

My wife hates Indian food. I love Indian food.

Is God perverted or just has a twisted sense of humor?