The President was without precedent
At the time that he took on the post.
Equally homespun and elegant,
He struck the precisely right note.
Refusing the power of kings,
He yet understood that the State
Required what reverence brings:
A loyalty one can create.
And so he became The Great Leader,
The focus of wide adulation.
Yet only a one-time repeater,
He served not the man, but the nation.
He gave to the State what the states
Could only recopy writ small:
The sense of a Center the fates
Must bless for the good of us all.
He played well the hero who held
The Union together those years,
Until the still-thin mixture jelled,
And fact was more forceful than fears;
Till the other great president we
Now jam into one day for two
Kept the Union together and free,
The gift of the first to renew.
SING IN CELEBRATION OF YOUR RACE
Sing in celebration of your race,
The anonymous composer of your song,
Passionate provider of your grace,
A host to which you cannot help belong.
Take a day to sing of who you are,
Rejoicing in the choice of what must be,
In gratitude for what, beyond the bar,
Chooses in dark joy one's history.
Know the lineaments of ancient lore
'Ere you feel and act, and know not why.
Stories long forgotten lie in store,
Destined for revision by and by.
All you are and do is not by chance,
Yet you may face your partners as you dance.
SOMETIMES WHEN YOU'RE MARRIED
Sometimes when you're married
You drift away within.
Outside you stroll together;
Inside you live in sin.
A rich imagination
Provides your ecstasy,
A cordless, mobile heaven
Where everything is free.
The garden that you tend
Is not the one you roam;
The part of you that sings
Is not the one at home.
A strange and burning life:
What's real is not what's true.
And no one knows the passion
That you believe is you.
And so you are distracted,
Two people in a jar,
Bound by love and fate,
Yet never what you are
Until by chance life rips
A hole right through your wall,
And nothing you've imagined
Looks like you at all.
ALTHOUGH CONSUMED BY FURY, YOU STILL LOVED US
Although consumed by fury, you still loved us.
At least that is the knowledge of my heart.
Screaming like a child, you would beat us
Until you snapped, and then the tears would start.
"You know I love you," you would cry, demanding
More of us through tears than with your fist.
And we, through tears, would nod our understanding,
Too bullied in our pain to dare resist.
Yet now that you've been dead for many years,
And I have wandered through my own vast hell,
I see the desperate anguish in your tears
And hope at last that I can love you well.
For only in my love can your love be
The love that once, I think, you had for me.
HAPPY EASTER TO MY LOVE
Happy Easter to my love!
As days turn into daze,
Perhaps the holiday will prove
Potent to your gaze.
Years pass like a blur, and yet
Eternity stands still,
Available in silhouette,
Seen by act of will.
This day may you be touched by grace,
Embraced by love, by passion moved,
Reborn to time and place.
WHY DO I REMAIN IN EXILE
Why do I remain in exile?
I say, "Next year in Jerusalem!"
Seders come and Seders go.
I feel the pull but not the pain.
I say, "Next year in Jerusalem!"
I do not mean it, not for real.
I feel the pull but not the pain.
My anguish must be self-imposed.
I do not mean it, not for real.
I mean it in my Jewish bones.
My anguish must be self-imposed.
I lie becalmed, and wait, and wonder.
I mean it in my Jewish bones.
Seders come and Seders go.
I lie becalmed, and wait, and wonder:
Why do I remain in exile?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GRANDMA
Happy Birthday, Grandma!
All my love to you!
Pleased to have this chance to offer
Praises that are due.
Years and years of love
Become an unheard song,
Infiltrating every thought,
Righting every wrong.
Then the background fades,
Harmonies cohere,
Days stop on a day like this,
And what we feel we hear:
Your love, sustained and clear.
Author: Nicholas Gordon
About the author:
Nicholas Gordon is a poet and the webmaster of the popular poetry site, Poems for Free at http://www.poemsforfree.com.
Article source: Free Poetry Articles.
