Pulling the Plug

To honor someone’s talent

While excusing certain views

Which the world may deem offensive

Is the stuff that makes the news.

 

For a well-endowed museum,

With a Costume Institute,

Planned to showcase a designer

Who’s the face of ill repute.

 

Known for comments that disparage

People different from his type,

Nonetheless, his output thrives

With many drawn into the hype.

 

Yet the show for Galliano,

With Ms. Wintour’s staunch support,

Raised the hackles of some donors

And those critics got to thwart

 

What, to me, was recognition

That should surely be reserved

For designers with both talent

And integrity observed.

 

Sometimes those with too much power

Make decisions which, I’d bet,

Turn the tide to flow against them,

Though they harbor no regret.

The Traits That Define

People are the way they are;

You take ‘em or you leave ‘em.

They tell you things about themselves;

You do or don’t believe ‘em.

 

The one thing you cannot expect

Is that you’ll ever change ‘em,

For trying to might backfire

And, in that case, you’ll estrange ‘em.

 

We all have faults, though some are blind

To how some others see ‘em,

Yet most of us would never trade

Our faults for theirs, to be ‘em.

 

We must accept in those we love

The traits that do define ‘em,

The positives and negatives,

The way that they combine ‘em

 

And realize they must do the same

For us, when we’re beside ‘em,

Despite the fact we all believe

We take our faults and hide ‘em.

Wanna Bet?

The gambling apps are scary,

Though they don’t tempt me a bit,

For the ones who should be wary

Are the ones who’ll take a hit.

 

Just like every addiction,

There’s an obvious appeal,

But a gambling affliction

Is the worst kind of raw deal.

 

Those who really can’t afford it

Are lured in because the odds

Bring them one step closer toward it,

Feeling up there with the gods.

 

What once worked for only races –

Horses, greyhounds, cars that drag,

Now is found in many places,

Waiting for some saps to snag.

 

Who will score more in a ball game?

Who’ll be leading in the polls?

What will be the Royal babe’s name?

Who will land the leading roles?

 

Though it’s bad enough when older

Folks are drawn to such a con,

Younger people, sometimes bolder,

May find all their dreams are gone.

Understanding Why

I somehow keep forgetting

To adjust things for my age,

For things I once did easily

Don’t, at this current stage,

 

Let me bounce back quite as fast

So that I still feel the effects

Way beyond the time I did them,

Longer than what one expects.

 

Walking several extra miles,

Which, when walking, felt okay,

Has me totally exhausted,

Though it was the other day.

 

Sleeping less than what my body

Would prefer has its results,

Something that would never happen

To most younger-type adults.

 

Eating what I am not used to,

‘Specially if the food is rich,

Or an extra drink at dinner,

Might produce a little glitch.

 

Many older people fight this,

Since it’s easy to deny

That they need to take things slower;

Now I’m understanding why.

A Smile or a Nod

All I know are faces

With acknowledgements and smiles.

I do not know their occupations,

Hobbies, likes or styles.

 

With few exceptions, even names

Are mysteries to me,

As well as where they live or hints

Of personality.

 

I’m talking of my morning “friends,”

To whom I say hello –

The doormen and the other walkers

I don’t really know.

 

They add a bit of sunshine

To the start of many days,

Without the complications

Some relationships might raise.

 

A smile, a nod, a simple wave –

Enough to thus connect.

Any more might be a disappointment;

That’s what I’d expect.

Central Park

We often take for granted

What’s familiar in our world,

Without the need to wave the flag

We rarely have unfurled.

 

Yet tourists sometimes help us see

How fortunate we are.

By looking through their eyes we know

How high we’ve set the bar.

 

I spent the day in Central Park,

New York’s most precious jewel,

Though many locals get there

Not too often, as a rule.

 

Our visitor from out of town,

Amazed at all the trees,

Made me recognize the beauty

Landscaped perfectly to please.

 

The shady walks, musicians

And the turtles in the pond,

Plus the people-watching chances

Took us to a place beyond

 

All the urban sights we pass each day,

Infusing them with magic.

Taking Central Park for granted

Is not very short of tragic.

Remote Possibilities

Before remotes, we changed the channels

Right on the TV.

We got up from the couch to learn

What there was there to see.

When things got modern, we could sit

And use the new remote 

To flip from show to show, deciding

Which would get our vote.

But now, we have remotes galore 

And I can never tell

Which one to use and so I fiddle

‘Round for quite a spell.

My husband knows the magic trick

To find just what I need.

As long as he’s around

I’ll watch my program, guaranteed.

But at my son’s house, bets are off.

It really gets my goat

That to watch the U.S. Open,

Chances really are remote.