Looking Back

Today’s a day for looking back
To see how we have fared.
Did we tackle all our problems?
Get some broken things repaired?

Have horizons been expanded?
Were some buried truths revealed?
Some relationships cemented?
Have some painful wounds been healed?

Did we rise to every challenge?
Or just skulk away to stew?
We can tally up the columns
For an end-of-year review.

But the numbers do not matter,
If we chose to grin or grieve.
We can wipe the blackboard clean,
For tonight is New Year’s Eve.

So we’ll celebrate an ending;
All the bad will disappear
As we set the clock to zero
And begin a brand new year!

Just Ask

Got discount tickets for a play –
What seats, we didn’t know;
When we arrived, the usher took us
Right to the front row.

We were so close, we’d have to look
Straight up to see the stage;
The players’ brand of underwear
We probably could gauge.

Our necks would have to be so bent
That after watching actors,
We’d have to leave the theater
And head to the chiropractor’s!

Instead, I asked an usher if
Our seats just might be changed.
She found the manager, who helped
To get it rearranged.

We thoroughly enjoyed the show
And though most seats were filled,
The balcony was comfortable;
Anxieties were stilled.

I looked down at the audience
To those who sat so close,
And felt so glad that to those seats
We gave an adios.

It always pays, when you don’t like
The way some things may go,
To open up your mouth and ask
‘Cause hey – you never know!

Stepping Out

Choose a different neighborhood
From that where you reside,
Google it, then meet some friends
And you can be their guide.

If you’re in the city
And you’re willing to explore,
You’ll discover many treasures
That you’ve never seen before –

A restaurant, a gallery,
Museum, store or bar –
All beckon, making you feel glad
You’ve landed where you are.

You wander happily around
And browse and drink and dine;
You’re almost like a tourist
But you haven’t crossed the line.

‘Cause you still belong; nobody
Would confuse you with a guest.
If natives had a lie detector,
You would pass the test.

Yet it’s fun to step outside your turf
And sample the unknown.
There’s a whole wide world that’s waiting
Just beyond your comfort zone.

Beep Beep

A teenaged tourist asked his dad
Why all the cars were “beeping.”
It happened right near Central Park,
With traffic slowly creeping.

His dad believed the honking was
So cars ahead would go.
The son replied that “beeping”
Wouldn’t help or make it so.

I wanted to explain to them
What honking’s all about –
Frustration builds inside and soon
It needs an exit out.

A city driver at a crawl
Will often start to lose it;
His horn is there for times like these
And he’ll be glad to use it.

So this “beeping,” as the tourists say,
Helps keep the driver sane.
I guess to out-of-towners,
It’s a hard thing to explain.

It seems most rural drivers
Don’t have need to use their horn.
Perhaps the way we drive reflects
The place where we were born.

Extinct

Tyrannosaurus bit the dust;
Velociraptor, too.
Triceratops and stegosaurus
Vanished from our view.

We’ve all heard of extinction,
Which is where the dinos went;
But a “saurus” fled that fate
And did survive, to some extent.

What I speak of is thesaurus,
Thick and mighty in its power.
The words it holds inside
Should make a lowly mortal cower.

Yet one can access what it hides
And tame it for its treasure.
A little effort lets one reap
Rewards too huge to measure.

Alas, most folks are not aware
This cryptic beast exists;
Thus, lackluster vocabulary
Sorrily persists.

If writers do not nurture it
Before their words are inked,
Someday soon the grand thesaurus
Will join those who are extinct.

From Page to Screen

If you go to see a movie
After you have read the book,
You may wonder at the liberties
The film producers took.

For so many things get lost or changed
In media transition,
That I question whether they received
The novelist’s permission.

When a writer writes a book, he knows
How each scene should appear;
The characters and how they look
To him, are crystal clear.

Yet once those rights are signed away,
The writer might just find
That the actor on the screen is not
The face he had in mind.

Some chunks of action get left out
And details get adjusted.
It’s possible the author feels
Quite angry or disgusted.

I guess his compensation
Makes him leave those thoughts alone.
Control is lost, like parents
Once their child has up and grown.

But when I watch the movie
Of a book that I’ve enjoyed,
I wonder if the author’s
Feeling happy or annoyed.

Holiday Music

Spent two hours in the car;
The radio was blasting.
Christmas music was what every
Station was broadcasting.

Some arrangements seemed so old,
The singers must be dead.
All the lyrics, though, are stored
Forever in my head.

There were favorite singers, too –
Bruce Springsteen and John Lennon.
Most were non-religious tunes –
No praisin’ or amenin’.

So we sang along as Santa
Made his jolly way to town.
We belted out the words
And memory never let us down.

With Deck the Halls and Frosty,
Rudolph, Sleigh Bells and the like,
We harmonized as traffic
Zipped around us on the pike.

Though this is not my holiday,
I joined in every song.
Enjoying others’ music surely
Helps us get along.

But once at home, as darkness fell,
I stopped my Christmas croon.
My candles waited to be lit
To quite a different tune.