Bill Roberts, Poet

The Downside to Overachievement

Monday, March 22nd, 2010

At another time in another life

I was handsome, virile,

strong as an ox

and worked like a slave

because I was a slave -

handsome, virile and strong.

Because I outworked my fellow

slaves, and possibly because

I had all my teeth

and preferred the ladies

to the laddies,

I was chosen as The Chosen One -

the fellow bestowed with the honor

of capping the Pyramid at Cheops

with its uppermost stone.

This really killed me, it really did.

Two lessons:  (1) avoid pyramid schemes

and (2) never be a slave to anything.

(Published in the Fall/Winter 2007 issue of The Homestead Review)

Note:  Is this a message poem?  Read the last two lines again for the answer.  Just a fun poem, again linking me to that mysterious subject, reincarnation.  Do I believe in reincarnation?  I don’t, but all my previous selves do.

Posted in Human Nature, Humor, Nostalgia, Politics, Prejudice, That's Life | No Comments »

Falling Through Space

Wednesday, March 17th, 2010

Howard seems more anxious than usual

to see me this morning -

him waiting for his wife to finish exercising,

me having just showered

after water aerobics.

In greeting, he tells me he had

the craziest dream last night -

he was falling through space

and landed on his head,

which he rubs vigorously.

Again, he reminds me he’s had

Parkinson’s for fifteen years and

he’s originally from California

where the Silicon Valley now is,

from a large family of farmers.

I ask him to tell me more about

his dream, and he asks, What dream?

I tell him I had a crazy dream last night, too -

I was chasing naked girls and

couldn’t catch them.

He looks at me, either bewildered

or fascinated, and asks,

rubbing his sore bald spot,

serious as I’ve ever seen him,

Did you fall on your head, too?

(Published in 2008 online in Chantarelle’s Notebook)

Note:  This conversation with Howard occurred one morning at the Derda Center in Broomfield, CO, where Irene and I go for our workouts.  I love to chat with people, and Howard became a recognizable chat-mate over a period of months.  Most of his parlance was pretty much the same, hum-drum stuff, until this particular morning.  Not knowing quite how to answer his opening salvo about falling through space, I invented a dream of my own – oh, wouldn’t I love to chase naked girls! – and it made him pause and reflect:  maybe thinking, is this guy for real or off his rocker.  His final question was, in my estimation, the perfect response.  Sorry to say, don’t see Howard around any more.

Posted in Aging, Health, Human Nature, Humor | No Comments »

War, Incorporated

Saturday, March 13th, 2010

– To the memory of the George W. Bush era

Let’s face it:

Our business

In this country

Is the business of war.

We make weapons,

We sell weapons,

We like to use weapons,

Keeping WMD hidden in reserve.

The stock market climbs,

The economy thrives,

Millionaires become billionaires -

All’s right with our world.

Our President knows

Who we are,

How we respond,

Our natural inclination.

We thrive on war,

Launch into one willingly.

Hell, who’s next?

Bring ‘em on!

Note:  Just got nostalgic today for the good old days.  Don’t you miss George Bush and his gang of terrorists?  Naw, didn’t think so.

Posted in Human Nature, Nostalgia, Politics, That's Life, War | No Comments »

Growing Things

Sunday, March 7th, 2010

My grandmother’s garden

Continued to grow,

Wilder and wilder,

Petunias and marigolds and

Pansies peeking through

Weeds grown so thick

The flowers looked like

Prisoners peeking through bars,

Thanks to abundant rain

And my grandmother’s

Inability to leave the second

Floor where she was held

Prisoner in her room

Overlooking the garden,

Things growing wilder

As she too grew weaker,

Choked off from life,

Just like her precious flowers,

By wild, uncontrollable

Growing things.

(Published in the July 2002 issue of Offerings)

Note:  Just in the mood recently to write about loved ones lost.  I’ve written so much about my dear grandmother and her garden, which was maybe  a metaphor of life for her.  To watch that garden go the way it did after she began going downhill was another slow death to witness.  Oh, if only I had this love of growing things back then that I have now.  At least she, Emma Bartlett Boswell Roberts, left me her rich inheritance – the love of working in a garden.  Thanks, Grandma.

Posted in Aging, Health, Human Nature, Love, Nostalgia, That's Life | No Comments »

Reckless Living

Thursday, March 4th, 2010

– In memory of Robert R. Riddle

Mrs. Easterday wasn’t my favorite teacher,

wasn’t even my teacher,

but all of us patrolboys had to pass

her inspection, in front of her class,

when we came off duty mornings from

protecting kids as they walked to school.

She made it a point to pick on me,

point out to her snickering class that

my hair needed cutting, a good cleaning, too.

Back in those days, I got a haircut

every seven or eight weeks, so by week five

or six I probably looked a pretty fair nightmare.

She made fun of my soles, too, because they’d

flap whenever I walked or ran, so I’d have

to cut them off, walk nearly barefoot.

One particular cold morning, I must have looked

awfully shaggy, so Mrs. Easterda made a big

production in front of her kids,

handing me thirty-five cents to get a haircut,

“And I want to see it cut by tomorrow,”

she admonished, gloating as I pocketed the coins.

I entered her room shivering the next day,

bald as a veritable cueball, horrifying her and

humoring her class of perfectly coiffed kids.

She left me alone after that.  I never spilled

the beans that my barber shaved me for only

a quarter, leaving the dime to be spent recklessly.

Note:  Mrs. Easterday was a sixth-grade teacher at H. D. Hyde Elementary School in D.C., a real terror.  But, oh boy, did I put one over on her, getting head shaved and keeping that precious dime for whatever I damn well pleased.  That I almost contracted pneumonia I try to forget but can’t.  This vignette hopefully shows two things:  how so many teachers “back then” were bullies (maybe in this case for the right reason), and also how a kid, me, could cut off his hair to spite his nose.  It was another life lesson in growing up.  This poem was read at the memorial service for Bob Riddle on March 17, 2001.  Bob and I had chatted in his hospital room shortly before his death about the crazy things we did as kids.  As I recall, his stories topped mine.

Posted in Children, Human Nature, Humor, Nostalgia, That's Life | No Comments »

Giving It Up

Tuesday, March 2nd, 2010

– for Maxie

Maxie couldn’t have been happier

than he was the day our sister got married.

I picked him up at the hospital

as I usually did most Saturday mornings,

then headed directly for my apartment

where his new outfit awaited him:

brown wool suit, white shirt, rakish red

tie and matching pocket hanky,

sleek brown loafers with tassels –

even new socks and underwear.

He looked spectacular when finished,

even more handsome than sister Eileen’s

husband-to-be, who was plagued

by the jitters, as was fretful Eileen,

whose chief concern was Maxie.

I made sure Maxie swallowed two

Ritalin tablets, then my wife gave him

a final once over before we left

for the groom’s parents’ church.

Maxie circulated with snacks at the reception,

danced with every willing female,

and charmed everyone who noticed him –

many didn’t, because he fit right in,

regardless of the demons he suppressed.

His smiling mug showed up in many

of the wedding pictures, testaments

to his having enjoyed a wonderful day.

I picked him up again a week later,

expecting him to be wearing his new duds

but found him instead deep in thought

in his usual uniform, scruffy cottons.

Maxie said one of the other patients

had a sister who was getting married,

so he’d given away the suit and accessories.

I silently cursed his misguided generosity, but

finally gave it up when I saw how

genuinely pleased with himself he seemed.

Note:  Golly, Miss Molly, another too-true story.  Maxie, movie-star handsome, came down with the too frequent affliction of young men in those days, paranoid schizophrenia.  After nearly ten years in a mental hospital, the infamous St. Elizabeth’s in Washington, D.C., he began coming out of his long funk of  non-communication after starting on what would later become known as the miracle drug Ritalin.  Returning home most weekends, he came back to family but was, of course, never quite the same.  This incident of dear sister Eileen’s wedding had to be one of the highlights of his tormented life – a day of great merriment for him and for us, his family.  Alas, his dosage of Ritalin was said to be a hundred times what today is normally prescribed for patients and, after too few years, killed him.  We had him back for too short a while.  Good to remember a happy day, Eileen and Dave having recently celebrated fifty years of married life together.

(Published in Into the Teeth of the Wind, Vol. II, Issue 2-3, 2001)

Posted in Health, Human Nature, Love, Nostalgia, Science, That's Life | No Comments »

Little Buggers

Monday, March 1st, 2010

– for Jimmy

My kid brother rarely started our fights,

I admit; he just happened to be withing range

when I chose to land the first punch.

I should give the little bugger credit:

he persisted in hanging around unwanted,

kept his oft-bloodied nose up near my face

even when I made it painfully plain

that he should get lost, grow up, go get his

own friends, other little buggers like him.

One day, I’m almost too ashamed to admit,

he’d grown to such an extent, I guess while

I wasn’t looking, that he figured out

it was smarter to get in the first punch,

gave me a bloody nose without reason,

went off, get lost, and found himself

some friends, thereafter making it

quite painfully plain to me that even

little brothers can be human, at times.

Note:  This is a tip of the hat to my brother Jim who not only grew up but went past me with the speed of light into the world, became quite successful and a wonderful family man.  I’m almost too ashamed to admit:  he’s very human and quite a wonderful person.

Posted in Aging, Children, Human Nature, Humor, Love, That's Life | No Comments »