Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Poem-in-progress

LBJ - 1960 


The giant rose above the Texas plain, 
Colossus of ambition, destiny 
Ordained his nervy quest, his adolescent
Yearning for power, to climb above rock hard 
Hill Country soil and help the poor to hold 
A measure of their rightful dignity. 


Could you have soared over the hardpan earth,
Self-propped from impecunious stock - though they 
Had seen aggrandizement, flush times, respect,
Only to watch it crumble - ? Lyndon took 
His only chance to flee humiliation: 
The Teachers' College. And somehow enough. 
But how from there to Washington? And how
To power? The Senate when he came: a swamp,
A backward parliament of poobahs, grand 
And not, irregular at best, blocked, jammed,
Stodgy or sedentary, costive group, 
A hundred hidebound men. Yet Lyndon had 
No Yale or Harvard, no distinguished brass 
From West Point or Annapolis. So how 
Did Johnson change the nature of the Senate? 
And how become a bright and lonely star
To that plutonic clan on Capitol Hill? 
He smiled, he lied, he groveled, purred, praised, fawned, 
He threatened, buttonholed and jawboned, winked, 
He passed out envelopes stuffed full of cash. 
Thus he ascended north. 




Thursday, March 8, 2012

89


You think that couldn't be? 
They wouldn't drop you in the sea? 
You think I'm telling a lie? 
Go ask Billy Bligh
I know he won't deny 
When they set you adrift 
They don't care how you shift
They're thinking that soon you'll die. 
And look you in the eye. 
You're gonna feed the rats of the sky. 
88.


You wanted nothing so much as you wanted to sail
So why'd you fail?
Now they'll set you adrift
Marooned in a spoon.
Now the storms won't lift.
You think you feel an island
But it's not an island
That's just the devil's tail.

Friday, February 10, 2012


87. 
They’ll never scarce conceive how fast my lord
Could move and plan, and moving plans fulfill,
How Alexander knew maneuvers first,
Their rationale would follow only later
And we would see their destined brilliance shine,
A comet in the night. You would’ve let
The Persian slip away, a crippled dog,
A hobbled useless horse. The king however
Understood like no one else to win
At Gaugamela meaningless without
A Darius who bowed and yielded all
His earth and titles, all his earthly reign.
Would you have fought a day, to take a mile
Of land, only to fight a thousand miles
Of harsh terrain, of deserts, mountains, deaths,
Defiles, betrayals, treacherous rivers? – long
Before you would’ve quit. But always he
Pressed on, though weak or sick or tired, through doubt,
Confusion, loss, privation, seeking Darius.
A year and more he chased the toppled tyrant.
I’ll let you sleep, forever he’ll be king.  

Friday, December 16, 2011

86. 
What then is bravery, a word, a noise, 
A puff of air? Go scowl in fortune's face,
Since being brave is only your good luck. 
You're glad your liver wasn't eaten long
Ago. Go, Hitch and glare the quasar down.
Seeking disputation over truth,
You won your fame, prompting fools 
With passion's full intensity and great 
Conviction to declaim their hate or praise 
Of things opposed, the heroes changing horse
Mid-stream, for Borodino now, and now 
Against. We are so weak, so frail, so slight,
So evanescent, yet we can envisage 
Perfect love and grace. Infinity 
Provides the fertile womb of God. Our need, 
Our boundless need, across the cosmos, would, 
Through endless yearning, yield a Lord of skill.
Brave Damocles, thank your amygdalae. 


Imagination is the key. . .    
Machines will poison everything. . .    
85.
"But didn't he also fight to make the case that we need to inquire freely and constantly? Isn't that what is behind his assertion that there are no final solutions, no absolute truth?" 


"Maybe, Mrs. Olyphant, but the Houyhnhnms reasoned that perhaps the Yahoos should be liquidated. Reason is a whore. We can't trust her. There must be some absolute barrier when it comes to meting out death. How is that based on reason alone? We all are going to die anyway. We all live under the sword of Damocles. Why not truncate the life of this annoying human? Everything about Mr. Hitchens manner of delivery suggested he could indeed imagine doing in his enemies. There was more than a soupçon of Madame Defarge about his attitude. He had the aspect at least of a classically trained Machiavell." 


Cole: "And he was so sure there could be no god. Of course we know in our hearts there is a god and she is the devil."  

Thursday, December 15, 2011

84.


 "Hitch believed in happiness, truth, beauty and wisdom. Silly Romantic."
 "You don't believe in those things, Mr. Cole?"
 "Belief is a weasel word. I'm not sure anything has any meaning. Why would it? I think we all can be destroyed without a moment's notice. We stand on a great precipice that will erase not only us but all of human history. What is all this scrambling about?" 
 Ridge: "Oh, fragile we."