Revenge is sweet like honey on the tongue,
sayeth the Prince of Denmark known as Hamlet.
But what comes of this is a pile of dung,
of bodies poisoned, drowned, hanged – but yet
conscience doth make them all a coward,
many driven to madness and despair;
they don’t know how to go forward
without misfortune that is unfair.
The play, quite gloomy and dark,
is worth a tuppence or a quid
For Shakespeare doth leave his mark
on history with his re-creation of Kyd.
Six counties within a stone’s throw of the White House
Are the wealthiest in the country.
More money is made and spent than anywhere else.
More live in McMansions and drive Lexuses.
More work at defense contractors and tech companies.
They live in an invisible bubble, many unaware
That among them there are families crowded
Together in one-bedroom apartments.
That the homeless hide in tents alongside freeways.
That “downsizing” means many will lose more than
Their jobs, but also their houses, their cars,
Their self-respect. Your former neighbor
May be in line at the food bank tomorrow.
But Northern Virginia is where the jobs are.
Or so they say.
(I wrote this in response to a great poem on the same theme from Andrew in New Zealand for Postcard Poetry Fest and sent to my friend Ray who I figured would appreciate it. He did. Andrew must have been inspired by sending a postcard to someone in Virginia,)
In the land of cotton and tobacco
amid the grandeur of plantations,
the gentry strolled their well-manicured lawns
and surveyed all that was theirs.
Little did they know their great-great-grandsons
would not carry on their tradition in the New South,
but would sit in secret rooms behind locked doors,
trawling meta-data for terrorist connections to Yemen.
When did they start to pledge allegiance
to the NSA, not the CSA?
(A Postcard Poetry Fest poem of mine that Amanda in France responded to with her own take. It was brilliant!)
They say the heart wants it wants
and the head should follow its lead.
But if your heart goes astray
on the wrong path
how does the head catch up
to put it back the right way?
The union between the head and the heart
is easier said than done,
when the head says to stay on earth
and the heart wants to fly to the sun.
(More Postcard Poetry Fest poems I wrote)
Japanese say when a cat’s tail
stands up, tomorrow will bring sun.
Russians think a cat in a new house
before humans move in brings luck.
Aesop said they were devious and cunning,
Pliny thought them filled with lust.
Ancient Egyptians revered them as
goddesses, mummifying them.
Does my cat, shedding white fur
on my red couch, give a thought
to these tales?
No chance at all.