Tourists

To recognize a tourist in New York,
Here’s my advice:
Don’t rely on looks or clothes
Or acting much too nice.

Maps and cameras offer hints,
An accent gives a clue;
But if you look for certainty,
Here’s what you have to do.

Stand on any corner
Any morning, noon, or night;
Notice all the people who
Won’t cross against the light.

Then you’ll have your answer;
You’ll have all the proof you need.
Those who wait for green to cross
Are tourists, guaranteed!

Feeding a Crowd

When you’re feeding a crowd,
You should be allowed
To sit back and observe
All the praise you deserve.

For you’ve shopped, cooked, and cleaned
‘Fore the guests have convened.
Many hours have you toiled
As you’ve baked, fried, or boiled.

If you stop and take note
You might say, and I quote,
“I’m a really good host
And I don’t mean to boast,

But look – everyone’s eating;
They’re talking, not tweeting.
I created this scene –
I’m the gathering queen!”

It’s a feeling to savor,
A favorite flavor;
But take off your crown:
For each up, there’s a down.

When the company leaves,
You must roll up your sleeves
And, unless you’ve three wishes,
You must do the dishes.

Still, your efforts have paid;
You need no accolade.
You should feel rather proud
After feeding a crowd.

Charoses

While looking for a recipe
To grace the Seder meal,
I came upon a coupon
Which had something to reveal.

It was inside a newsletter
My grandmother had sent;
The intervening years just made
The point more evident.

The coupon’s expiration date
Was April ’85,
The year my youngest child was born
And Grandma was alive.

So many things have taken place
Since I received that letter,
Yet every year I use that recipe
It just tastes better.

For with the apples and the nuts,
The cinnamon and wine,
I add the memories that help
To make this dish all mine.

Preparing

We spend our lives preparing
For future key events,
And may be left despairing
Of what this represents.

For every passing hour
We think about tomorrow
Diminishes our power
And forces us to borrow

The time we should be using
To celebrate today;
It’s all within our choosing
To act without delay.

Of course, some preparations
We cannot allow to slide,
‘Cause certain expectations
Simply must be satisfied.

You have to cook and clean and shop
If you are hosting dinner,
But taking time so you don’t drop
Does not make you a sinner.

I rarely heed my own advice
But often wish I could,
‘Cause oftentimes we sacrifice
More minutes than we should.

If we could plan without the waste
Of energy expended,
Our worrying could be erased;
Anxiety transcended.

So as the holidays approach,
Get ready, but relax;
A stress-free host without reproach
Won’t yield to heart attacks.

Concern

It’s wonderful, in time of need,
To reconfirm or learn
Which people follow your travails
And show you their concern.

By email, snail mail, or by phone
They contact to inquire
How things did go and how you feel:
Their caring does inspire.

It’s comforting, just like a quilt
You’re wrapped in to keep warm,
To have support like this, so like
A beacon in a storm.

It doesn’t take much to convey
Connection and support,
And sometimes those you count on
Can surprise and come up short.

We all lead busy lives and so
I’d never hold a grudge
For someone who forgot, because
It’s not for me to judge.

But I am grateful and must thank
All those who did come through,
And if someday you are in need,
I hope I’m there for you.

That’s not to say I would ignore
Those others, with a shrug,
But at this time some friends deserve
A rhyming, heartfelt hug.

Wake-Up Call

The other day I ran into
Someone I know not well,
And when I asked how life has been
She said, “A living hell.”

Her husband, in the hospital,
Had weird hallucinations;
His brain was quite a mystery,
Despite evaluations.

Her life had changed most drastically
And she’d been unprepared;
So now she had to do alone
The things that they had shared.

“I’m canceling a tour we’d planned,”
She said, sounding resigned.
“And when I come to visit him,
I don’t know what I’ll find.”

I felt so bad for her and had
No words to quite console.
When life throws darts like this at us,
It’s out of our control.

Her story, sad as it could be,
I’ve heard in other versions.
Its message should be strong enough
To foster mass conversions.

For those of us who pass the time
As if we’ll live forever,
Should realize in a flash
It’s time to plan our next endeavor.

We never know when, in a blink,
Our light may start to dim,
And suddenly the future
Can revert from glam to grim.

My meeting shook me up a bit,
So screw procrastination:
It’s time for me to sit right down
And book my next vacation.

The Wait

Nobody likes waiting.
It really is the pits;
‘Cause while anticipating,
You might just fall to bits.

Whatever you are waiting for
You want it to be done.
The nervousness you can’t ignore
Won’t stop once it’s begun.

Anxiety keeps building ‘til
It flies way off the charts,
And even if you know the drill
You’re helpless when it starts.

So take a breath or read a book
Or find a new diversion;
And maybe that will be the hook
To pluck you from immersion.

‘Cause drowning in anxiety
Won’t make the time go fast;
But it will pass and soon you’ll see
Your wait will end at last.

Revelation

A friend who read a poem of mine
Said, much to my confusion,
“You really are an optimist –
I’ve come to that conclusion.

You paint a rosy picture
Of the “joys” we face when aging,
And overlook the negatives
With which we’ll be engaging.

I don’t agree,” was what she said,
“‘Cause getting older stinks;
And often someone hides the truth
Of what she really thinks…

Unless you really do believe
And gee, I think you do,
The challenges that life throws down
We’re able to get through.”

I was surprised to be perceived
The way she did insist;
I’ve always seen myself
As quite a rabid pessimist.

But maybe there’s some truth in that
My only way to cope
With all the struggles we endure
Is not to give up hope.

If someone quoted that to me,
I’d once have thought it “bull.”
I never was the type to see
That empty glass “half-full.”

But something’s changed and here I am,
Faced with a real surprise,
To find out I’m an optimist
In pessimist disguise.

Amazing, isn’t it, to finally
Get to see the light;
The truth revealed most magically
In words that I did write.

Milestone

Approaching a milestone-type birthday
Is reason for inner reflection;
A decade has passed since the last one,
Providing grist for introspection.

We think of the years that have vanished
And marvel at what has transpired:
We’re older, of course; in addition,
We might have divorced or retired.

Perhaps we’ve gained weight or switched houses,
Expanded horizons and traveled;
Discovered and nurtured new friendships,
And watched as some others unraveled.

Our license to drive has expired.
We must have a new photo taken;
And when we compare the two pictures,
The difference may leave us quite shaken.

Yet still as we ponder the changes,
We realize that life overflows
With many more doors we can open,
Replacing the ones we must close.

For time is elastic and therefore,
We know not how long it can stretch;
So we should enjoy every birthday
And not waste a moment to kvetch.

So here’s to the birthday partakers!
Those milestones deserve celebration.
How many are left we’re not sure of,
But we’ll whoop it up for the duration.

Busy

It’s good to be busy;
You feel so alive.
The more things you’re doing,
The better you’ll thrive.

It helps if your projects
Make you feel fulfilled,
Though every last minute
You needn’t be thrilled.

But if you dive into
A hobby or book,
You’ll know it was worth
All the time that it took.

There’s a world out there waiting
That should be explored;
With so much to do
You should never be bored.

I love when I’m busy,
Though what is required
Is learning to call it a day
When you’re tired!

Health Care

I haven’t followed health care
As closely as I should,
But if all folks are covered,
To me, that sounds quite good.

The arguments appear to be
About what we’ll be spending,
And each side thinks it’s right
So the debate is never ending.

What really makes me furious
And seems just like extortion
Is, just to get the bill to pass,
They’ll cave about abortion.

Although it is a granted right
Despite those who’d delay it,
So many women will lose out
‘Cause they can’t ever pay it.

I listened to each delegate
Who claimed the bill was “flawed,”
And I felt sick to realize
People hurried to applaud.

Health care should be accessible
To all, and not denied
To any woman who’s in need
Of what the laws provide.

So Congressmen should keep in mind,
No matter their belief,
It’s written in the books
That all have access to relief.

The presidential order
Was a lot to sacrifice;
The bill will pass, but I’m not sure
That it was worth the price.

Dressing Room Etiquette

I went to The Gap;
They were having a sale.
On the dressing room line,
I let patience prevail.

The line was quite long,
But I didn’t mind waiting,
Until something happened
I found irritating.

Someone in a room
Stepped outside and announced,
“Think I need the next size;”
To the sales floor she bounced.

The employee just nodded,
Thought that this was just fine;
So her room was on hold
While we waited in line.

How indulgent and selfish,
Self-centered and rude!
I could never condone
Such a brash attitude.

If I’d been in her place,
I am sure, there’s no doubt,
I’d have taken my things
And I would have walked out.

I would vacate my room
And go look for my size,
Then I’d rejoin the line
So no anger’d arise.

I’m old-fashioned, I guess,
‘Cause this scene happened twice,
And no one except me
Thought it crude and not nice.

Since most customers there
Lacked my manners and years,
I’ll conclude that our gap’s
As deep as it appears.

Keys in Trees

Walking by the river,
Soaking up the breeze,
I saw before me, on a branch
A dangling set of keys.

They weren’t very obvious;
In fact, they seemed quite hidden.
Perhaps a lover hung them
For a rendezvous forbidden.

I pictured that scenario,
A secret midday tryst,
And realized if those keys were moved
One lover would be pissed.

But when I thought about it more,
That whole idea I tossed.
More than likely someone found
Some keys that had been lost.

Probably a jogger
Had dropped them on the run,
Never thinking that would spur
The fantasy I’d spun.

The person who discovered them
And hung them on that tree
Hoped they’d be united with
Their owner, happily.

I also hope that happens,
But marvel at the mind
That takes an innocent event
And sees what it can find.

In a Hurry

New York people rarely stroll,
Or saunter, traipse, or amble;
City life sure takes its toll –
To cross the street’s a gamble.

Everyone is in a rush
No matter what the hour;
Bodies bump and cause a crush
The crowd seeks to devour.

Racing for the bus or subway train
Can leave you panting;
Realizing your race has been in vain
Will leave you ranting.

Running for a cab because you’re late
Will get you sweating;
Someone grabs your taxi real estate –
That’s so upsetting!

So you skitter, scamper, swoop and sprint –
You even scurry;
If you’ve New York DNA,
You’re always in a hurry!

St. Patrick's Day

Today the world is Irish
And many will convene
To march as proud participants
In New York’s sea of green.

The weather gave its blessing;
No one did freeze or wilt.
Parade observers did applaud
Each uniform and kilt.

The bagpipes’ mournful cadence
Sounded spirited and proud,
And I was mesmerized
Like every other in the crowd.

We clapped for every firefighter,
Sailor and marine;
Even horses were decked out
With necklaces of green.

The high school marching bands blared out
Repeated “Danny Boys;”
The fifes and drums and tubas added
Lots of joyful noise.

A rousing cheer brought glowing smiles
To sanitation forces
Who walked with brooms and dustpans
To pick up behind the horses.

Children and adults alike
Wore shamrock shirts and hats;
Beads and flags adorned the likes
Of wives and bureaucrats.

All New York turned out today
For jubilant salutes,
‘Cause on St. Patrick’s Day we all
Can trace our Irish roots!

Reprieve

Sometimes in life,
From out of the muck,
Comes a clean stepping stone
And you rise up, unstuck.

It must be a mirage
You imagine, at first;
And you breathe in the air
‘Til your lungs want to burst.

You step gingerly out,
See the life all around;
You can hardly believe
You’re on solid-packed ground.

You’ve been mired for so long,
You don’t know how to act;
So you follow the paths
Those before you have tracked.

Soon your confidence builds
And you start to branch out.
You make plans in advance,
Though you’re riddled with doubt.

Days go by, maybe weeks,
And you start to believe
That this happiness might
Not be just a reprieve.

So you nurture that hope;
Add some sticks to the flame.
Chase those omens away
Back the way that they came.

You most foolishly trust,
And you let down your guard;
So when muck reappears,
You step into it, hard.

And then you are back
In the bog, out of luck,
‘Cause life passes you by
When you’re stuck in the muck.

TV

Do you have a TV show
You follow week to week?
If you do, then surely you do
Know of what I speak.

I care about Jack Bauer,
Though his show is so unreal;
Sinking into fantasy
Is part of the appeal.

I follow Project Runway,
Love both Heidi and Tim Gunn;
Watching those designers “make it work”
Is so much fun.

I’m hooked on Law & Order;
SVU’s the one for me,
From Liv and Elliot right down
To Belzer and Ice-T.

I’m even quite an Idol fan,
I guess I must confess;
Though I don’t vote or care who wins,
I watch it nonetheless.

Some other shows I hear about
To me, are not enticing;
Like being served a yummy cake
With some atrocious icing.

Yet friends are quite addicted to
These shows that I reject;
Since taste is so subjective,
No one’s choice is incorrect.

Whatever shows you choose to watch
You’ll know just what I mean:
Your problems hide when you veg out
And watch the TV screen.

Changing the Clocks

I woke up this morning and jumped out of bed,
Like it was the sinking Titanic;
Forgetting the clocks had the time moved ahead,
I suffered a moment of panic.

It’s only an hour, so what’s the big deal?
I wouldn’t be late for a meeting.
But still, sixty minutes less time could reveal
How our seasons on earth are so fleeting.

I know that in autumn that hour we’ll reclaim,
But for now, it remains disconcerting;
I’m filled with uneasiness I cannot name –
To feel normal, I’m overexerting.

This day feels too short, like the hourglass cracked
And the sand’s shifting out much too quickly;
To the time that remains I will have to subtract
My anxiety, prodding and prickly.

I’m certain that others must feel as I do:
Off balance, a bit out of kilter.
I think we’ll feel better with springtime’s debut,
As our rhythms shrug off winter’s filter.

Deluge

Sometimes it rains and sometimes it pours
And once in a very great while,
The raindrops come hammering down from the sky
And you gotta admire their style.

They pound and they pummel, they pulse and they pounce;
They saturate, leaving us soaking.
Despite our umbrellas and slickers and boots,
We’re wet and in no mood for joking.

On days like today, if you walk or you drive,
You’ll do battle with downpours so daunting,
You’d be better off staying indoors to avoid
All those raindrops and their soggy taunting.

Eaching

Some owls spend their evenings screeching.
Many blondes spend hours bleaching.
Know-it-alls annoy with preaching.
Tag-alongs survive by leeching.
Social workers try outreaching.
Suntan worshipers love beaching.
Politicians practice speeching
(And occasionally impeaching).
And within me, poems I’m reaching,
Ever since I gave up teaching.

Obituaries

I read the obituaries
And never miss a day.
When someone asks the reasons why,
This is what I say:

Everyone deserves to have
Acknowledgement in print
(Note to my husband –
This is a hint.)

Of a life that’s been lived
And has come to an end;
Sometimes that fact
We cannot comprehend.

I look at their ages
And causes of death,
Many too young
To have breathed their last breath.

I read of the loved ones
They’ve left in their wake,
Some probably hoping
There’s been a mistake.

Many a notice
For someone deceased
Pays homage with feelings
That must be released.

It’s hard to express
In a few simple lines
How a life that is over
Can, with yours, be entwined.

‘Cause no matter how sudden
Each death, or expected,
We’re never prepared
And are caught unprotected.

So we mourn and we grieve
And we publish our sorrow
And hope that the pain
Will diminish tomorrow.

But meanwhile, when strangers
Read paeans to the dead,
We have a small glimpse
Of the life that was led.

Waiting

Life, there can be no debate,
Is filled with times we have to wait.
We line up for the bus and train,
Sometimes, seemingly, in vain.
When driving, we stop at each light,
When paying tolls, when turning right.
We order things online, on sale,
And wait to get them in the mail.
If doctors test you for disease,
You spend a week with knocking knees.
Those students who apply for college
Anxiously await that knowledge.
Also applicants for jobs
Deal with nerves that pulse with throbs.
Will you get that second date?
Count the minutes as you wait.
Pregnant women, all a-quiver,
Time contractions to deliver.
Though a watched pot never boils,
Wait too long – spaghetti spoils.
Seconds stretch when you’re suspecting
Harm’s attacked one you’re expecting.
Though this list can be extended,
I suspect it’s time it ended.
We spend life accumulating
Agita from all that waiting!

On Hold

There’s a book that I want
So it’s now on hold
In my library branch,
Or so I’m told.

It’s a popular novel,
A Times best-seller
By a writer who’s quite
A story teller.

When I added my name
To the on-hold list,
I had little hope
But could not resist.

Yet I sure was shocked
To the nth degree
By the number who
Were ahead of me.

Three hundred and twelve
Had reserved that book.
I could write my own
In the time that took.

Someone please explain,
I don’t understand,
Why they can’t get more
Books in such demand.

But I’ll wait my turn.
It’ll come, no doubt;
I just hope it does
‘Fore the movie’s out!

Relief

Some folks, when stress they hope to dodge,
Indulge and take in a massage.
It’s not a luxury, they say;
It helps to get them through the day.

Others chill out with a drink;
It will soothe the nerves, they think.
Similarly, tokes of pot
May take the edge off, quite a lot.

Exercise can help unwind
The anxious thoughts that plague the mind;
And shopping, for some, holds the key
To help the brain stay clutter-free.

Many watch TV or read;
Some find sleep is what they need.
If you sew or quilt or knit,
Doing so may benefit.

Talking helps in many cases;
So do trips to calming places.
Often cooking meals or baking
Helps to soothe a psyche aching.

Eating can be quite a crutch;
Long-term, though, it won’t help much.
Pets provide much comfort, too,
‘Cause they pick up on every clue.

Whichever balm will float your boat
And helps relax you gets my vote.
Life is hard, beyond belief -
Seek and you will find relief.

The Oscars

Tonight’s the night of Oscar
And though there’s so much hype,
People watch to pick apart
That Hollywoodish type.

Let’s check out all the glamour,
See what the stars are wearing;
Note the ones who play it safe
And see who is more daring.

Watch them walk the carpet,
Respond to the same queries;
Why it fascinates gives rise
To countless varied theories.

We’re jealous of their beauty,
We envy all their fame;
We’re even quite resentful
Of their power and acclaim.

We relish any missteps,
No faults can we ignore,
Like witnessing an accident
And hoping for some gore.

The mind is funny that way;
We don’t like to admit
We wish success yet also hope
They fail a little bit.

We’ll root for all our favorites
Yet critique, shoot down, condemn,
Wondering how it would feel
To carpet-walk with them.

Almost Spring

It’s two more weeks ‘til spring is real
Despite the way today did feel.
I saw some bulbs begin to sprout
And many branches’ buds were out.
There were jackets made of leather;
Down abandoned in this weather.
I enjoyed an ice cream cone
And noticed I was not alone.
New York snow has all but melted.
Folks were hatless; coats unbelted.
Birds were chirping, which equates
To seeing guys on bikes and skates.
Winter has two weeks to go
But I’m convinced it’s gone, although
It may yet plan a sneak attack,
Surprise us all and come on back.
I hope it turns out I am right
And it slinks off without a fight.
We’ve had enough of winter’s sting,
So let’s enjoy this almost spring.

Taking a Chance

If you never take a chance,
Then you do not risk rejection.
Undeserving of a glance,
You’ll proceed in one direction.

You’ll continue on your way,
Where the scenery doesn’t vary;
And you’ll never rise to play
Parts that aren’t ordinary.

Though there’s nothing wrong with that,
If you’ve talent and must share it,
Then a risk is where it’s at:
Take a breath, dive in, and dare it.

Then you’ve given it your all;
Though you may or may not make it,
For your spirit’s standing tall –
One rejection will not break it.

With each time it seems you fail
Comes a chance to make it better;
And instead of getting stale,
You’ll become a real go-getter.

So you’ll try and try again
And you may get a surprise,
‘Cause one day, you know not when,
You may grab onto that prize.

Classical Radio

Classical radio needs my pledge.
The announcers spend every day pleading.
It’s starting to send me right to the edge;
It’s music to soothe that I’m needing.

The commercials before didn’t earn my wrath,
But this badgering’s getting quite boring.
If somebody bothered to do the math,
They’d see how much time’s spent on imploring.

It’s the music I’m after – the winds and strings:
Vivaldi, Beethoven, Mozart;
I savor the feeling such magic brings –
Contentment wafts into my heart.

Let this fund raising end – get the music back.
That’s this listener’s recommendation;
And hopefully soon we’ll be back on track
And I’ll even send in my donation!

Tethered

Many people that I know
Travel quite a bit.
I’m envious of all their trips,
I’m sorry to admit.

Not everyone can up and go.
You must be unencumbered;
And those of us they leave behind
Have those free souls outnumbered.

The reasons why we stay at home
Are varied and prosaic.
If every reason were a tile,
They’d make a great mosaic.

Some folks can’t afford the time;
They’re soldered to their work.
Others do not have the cash;
Financial woes do lurk.

There are those afraid to fly –
With such intimidation,
Not a thing will change their minds,
Despite the destination.

Some exist with means and time
But lacking the desire,
Certain that no place but home
Has something to admire.

Many people aren’t free
From family obligations,
Often taking care of sick
Or elderly relations.

Though we’ve all had storms in life
And traumas we have weathered,
Many of us must accept
That we are simply tethered.

There may be an end in sight
Or it may last forever,
Thus we must attempt to maximize
Every endeavor.

If we loosen up the ropes
And let the tension slack,
We may float a little bit
Before we get pulled back.

Run-Around

Have you ever had a problem
With insurance or a bill?
Well, if it hasn’t happened yet,
I guarantee it will.

And once something’s the matter,
You’ll be drowning in red tape.
I’m not exaggerating,
And you’ll never quite escape.

You try to reach a human,
But first get put on hold.
The music they assault you with
Won’t leave you rock and rolled.

The minutes tick by endlessly,
But soon comes quite a gem:
A prerecorded voice says that
You mean so much to them.

They really want to help you,
So continue, please, to wait;
You have no choice but your frustration
Starts to escalate.

You finally get a person
Who’s alive and not a myth.
You ask her name and naturally
She says it is “Miss Smith.”

You tell her your sad story
And you can’t contain a yelp
When she announces that no way
Will she be any help.

She’ll get her supervisor
If you don’t object to waiting;
Your anger and anxiety
Continue percolating.

The supervisor hears you out,
But nothing she can do;
She gives you one more number,
Then it’s time for toodle-oo.

Eventually, hours pass;
Your answer might be found.
Your day is shot, but stay on guard
For your next run-around.

Silver

The U.S. hockey team got silver
Though they wanted gold;
The sour expressions they displayed
Were startling to behold.

They bowed their heads to take their prize
And not one cracked a smile;
To wallow in despondency
Seemed very juvenile.

In every competition
There are losers more than winners,
And disappointment’s not reserved
For only the beginners.

Most athletes on the podium
Looked thrilled with even third;
A few exceptions sulked, though,
Not accepting what occurred.

So many great competitors
Don’t ever earn a medal,
But most of them accept their fate
And proudly, they do settle.

I understand our hockey guys
And know just how they feel,
But looking so dejected
Didn’t add to their appeal.

Apolo Ohno said it best:
They should stand tall and proud.
They’ve earned their place in history
Before a cheering crowd.

We cannot always grab the gold -
Sometimes we have to lose;
But how we handle our defeat
Is what we get to choose.