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 Jan 2017 Nico Reznick
Mike Essig
Simply sit down.

Don’t seek the Way,
you are already
on your way.

Just be present and
as you awaken,
the world awakens:

colors shout fragrance,
birds recite poetry,
breezes whisper caresses,
rivers of music flow.
light smells of hope.

Consider your past,
but do not dwell there;
consider your future,
but do not expect it.

Now is Is.

Peel away the squawking
layers of your heart
like an onion unwinding,
like a snake molting.

Approaching nothing,
you arrive at everything.

Do this until you think
you will vanish
and then vanish:

the more you lose,
the more you are.
Your mediocre dog
does not partake in birthday

parties or attend weddings,
theatrical  events

bar and bat mitzvahs
nor dabble in oil paint,

yet the pooch makes
the most out its twelve

years of life and appears
happy when compared

to the seven billion
humans on earth.
 Jan 2017 Nico Reznick
SassyJ
Arnold my dearest friend was 82
his soul has made a transition
through sands and vast oceans
to another dimensional paradise
he was chatty and I quiet
he was white and I black
he was old and I young
he was a man and I a woman
bonded with zest and humour

Arnold was strict and perfect
we met at local debating club
where we polished speeches
the little gems of impromptu
and the daunted evaluations
charming and complimentary
with an adventurous heart
and the pleasing easy spirit
of playfulness and success

Arnold and his plentiful gang
of competitive read speakers
always told me to slow down
I was a post-graduate trainee
wanting to brush my confidence
way back then when I stumbled
on that working men club
in the company of grey hairs
organised in eventful committees

Arnold saw roles changed
when after five long years
I was an elected president
the transformation of time
following radio interviews
back then when career drove
the foundations of many blocks
of habitual repetition and sweat
of sifting grime from the fire

Arnold always warmed up to me
kissed me on the  rosy cheek
he changed cars like clothes
and loved his dearly wife to bits
he has left a scent around my life
of a hope to love and build family
an ardent piano player and traveller
no wonder that church was so full
abundant with fond memories
Went to pay my respect to my friend Arnold. I learnt alot from him RIP. The church was so full I had to stand. I then realised that he was warm to everyone and has a loving family, one I aspire to have one day.
we look at TV screens that show
thousands of persecuted and bombed-out families
on the run for safety and sheer survival

so sorry

borders are shuttered now
the boat is full   no more come in
we have to think of ourselves

so sorry

we sincerely regret that you
are suffering from cold and rain and snow
in your rickety makeshift camps

so sorry

we are sure there’s someone
to take care of all that mess

it’s just not us

so sorry
how do I write about the beauty of the world
when barefoot people pass before my window
in search of shelter

how do I share my pleasure of the birds' sweet song at dawn
when I see faces etched with panic
from the deafening blast of bombs

how to rejoice in love and friendship
when meeting people who could barely save their lives
after burying their loved ones

how can I write with passion of the kindness of the human heart
when I see thousands fleeing from the ruins of their homes
only to face police   walls   barbed wire

true words are hard to find
as said a poet of an older war

    when it is a lie to speak
    a lie to keep silent

not easy
The poet from which my last two lines come: John Balaban, Vietnam War veteran:
“A poet had better keep his mouth shut,” he writes in “Saying Good-by to Mr. and Mrs. My, Saigon, 1972”:
unless he’s found words to comfort and teach.
Today, comfort and teaching themselves deceive
and it takes cruelty to make any friends
when it is a lie to speak, a lie to keep silent.
dead bodies floating
in our oceans
from the Asian Pacific
to the Mediterranean

crumpled corpses lying
on our beaches
thousands drowned unknown

overcrowded detention centers
not unlike concentration camps
behind barbed wires
guarded by police and snarling dogs

nobody feels responsible

not  those who started wars
destroyed whole cities
made millions homeless
and into refugees

not those who take advantage
of the chaos for their own gain
abusing the names of their gods
or some ancient figurehead
to excuse their atrocities and greed

not those who live
in comfortable homes
and wish the desperate crowds
would just stay on the TV screen
and not come close

nor those who pretend
to be the guardians
of our great humanitarian heritage
but show no backbone
against nationalist fanatics

it is the shame of the world
to sit and talk and watch
and not do enough

those who turn away
the needy and homeless
could also
      quite suddenly
lose their homes

forced to rely
on the kindness of strangers
It is five-thirty a.m.
I step outside for
the newspaper,

not four feet away
a raccoon sits on
its haunches like

a paunchy Buddha,
smiling as only liars
and sick animals

can; I toss a half
eaten piece of bacon
between  its  legs, pick

up the paper,
back away,
away.
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