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Poems
by Gary Beck

 

Remaining Pleasures

 

Now that I am old,

ailing,

I will not see

many tomorrows,

will sorely miss

wonders to come,

no longer see

sights of my youth,

forests, lakes, mountains,

deer in a meadow,

Monarch butterflies,

except on tv.

 

Confined to a city

I still find delight

in a manicured park

just wild enough

for occasional sightings,

jay, cardinal, woodpecker,

exquisite delights

enough to satisfy

my need for beauty

in this harsh life.

 

 

 

a line, (a short one)

 

 

What If?

 

When I was a boy

my friends and I

went to a big field

on Saturdays

to play baseball.

The rule was:

‘The first team there

plays the second team’.

We always got there early,

but the other team

was always bigger, older

and we usually lost,

yet we loved every minute.

One bad thing happened.

There was always one boy,

an aggressive complainer

who never admitted

that he struck out.

He was tough,

so we didn’t call him:

‘Sore loser’,

but that’s what he was

and he tried to spoil the game

for everyone else

by denying what happened.

 

 

 

a line, (a short one)

 

 

Too Big to Fail

 

Many Americans

do not realize

the global empire

starting in the 1950s

is dissolving.

Giant corporations

no longer loyal

to the country that formed them

do not pay taxes

adding to the impoverishment

that afflicts the people

dependent on government

for survival subsistence.

Chaos in public affairs

prevents functioning

mandatory

for domestic and foreign

obligations

while the lack of action

alienates allies,

disillusions the people

already distrustful

of a failing system.

 

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Misled Artists

 

The art world

seems to have room

for a limited number

of successful painters.

Yet art schools

churn out graduates

by the thousands,

with high hopes

of getting a gallery,

getting rich, famous,

with ever rising prices

at auction houses

where hordes of collectors

clamor for their work.

There is no consolation prize

for not making it big

and failed artists

never blame the schools

that put them on the path

for disillusionment.

 

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Ode to Liz Cheney

 

The only voice

that dared speak out

against the leader

of rabid extremists

who have forgotten

how to compromise

in order to manage

a struggling republic

in danger of falling

by consolidation

of the wealth of the land

in mega corporations

only concerned

with their prosperity

not the nation

that steadily erodes

the once vast resources

meant to nurture

the hope of the people

for a bright future,

dissipating

in the bitter division

preventing cooperation

to benefit the nation.

The call by one woman

to bring back sanity

was sadly unheeded

as she lost her career

for daring to speak out

against the wrong man

to lead our country.

 

a line, (a blue one)

 

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