When I was a kid, I used to run everywhere. Down through the woods to Cheryl Pierce’s house, 1/4 mile away. Out the gravel driveway, and across the street to the mailbox to get my Captain Midnight Decoder Buckle with the Glow-In-The-Dark- Adjustable-Belt Guaranteed To Fit Everyone. It was too small, and the secret message was, “Drink Ovaltine.” Phooey. In the Winter, I wore shoes; boots if it was snowy. In the Summer, I r...

I want to tell you a true story of a man. Not a celebrity in any sense, although he was quite well known in his very small town, where most everyone knew everyone else, or knew of them. He wasn't a politician, but had a deep interest in politics. He was just a businessman who ran a small business with help from his family. It would be better if I started at the beginning. He was given the name Walter when he was born in t...

Being older doesn’t make me any less a kid still holding what was precious then, though now they’re tarnished and I must confess dulled by these aging hands and yet, again and again I hold those ideals to the light— sometimes the sun, sometimes the turning moon-- looking for that sparkle, that radiant sight, and again I want the warmth of noon, the sweetness of the air, the tender breeze of dreaming what could be, so full...

I am committed and determinedI wonder do slow and steady really do win the raceI hear my name being calledI see myself as a recipient of something greatI want to share my reward with the runners-upI am committed and determinedI pretend I am confidentI feel the pressure mountI touch the proverbial brass ringI worry about not being noticedI cry when I’m frustratedI am committed and determinedI understand things don’t come e...

Looking up these nights at you,Dear Stars,my eyes,my thoughts,my soulreaching out to where we touch in space,where the forces of our orbitsintersecthigh above my life,where we are all one familytrying hard to live in harmony,struggling to be opento the wisdomspoken in a language without words.Looking up, I listen to the silenceof your fires surrounding me,calling through the vastness of the universe we share.Oh Starsand m...

Our river was a miracle,(which one is not).It came to us because of thirst.It came because our land was crackedand brown and barren as the desert.It came because we needed her,that’s our belief,foolish as it sounds.I told my friends the taleabout the River Godsearching for his daughterand how he lifted up his rodin gratitude for telling himhow I saw Zeus stealing her,how I defied the great god’s warning not to tell a soul...

If I let go this rock would crush my bones and end this punishment. The gods who put me here think they have control but do not know that they have none. I keep this stone alive and make it more than stone. I shove and keep up this momentum to know another day of work. I choose to take another step and keep this weight against my chest, my ribs, my arms, my neck, the effort of my legs, my breath. my bulging veins, and yes...

Almost there, almost to the place l never reach, almost as high as I can climb and lift this stone. I see the crest-- then look down at my feet, my sweaty arms and chest and think how it will feel when I am there at last where I have never been before. How will it feel to know I’ve beaten all the odds— to lift my arms in triumph and know the Gods aren’t laughing at me now-- now that I have defeated them, now that I am smi...

This stone is more than stone,more than weight against my arms,my shoulders, my neck--more than a stone my legs must shove,my hands must grasp,my lungs must grunt into--more than a moan inside my soulthat comes from knowing there is no escape from where I am,from who I am.This is the burden of my being here,this knowing that my place beneath the stars means endless work,means looking out into the universeof moons and suns...

Note: Several people have asked why I use the name Sisyphus and so I’ve decided to publish several of the poems over the next few days from my book length poem based on the myth. You will see that all of the poems take place with Sisyphus pushing the huge stone up the steep hill while singing his story to the stars.DEAR STARSDear Stars, I toss these words into the skylike a juggler tosses balls he cannot catch.I don’t kno...

  When Herman Podolsky was nine years old, his parents bought him a violin and he began taking lessons at the Brooklyn Settlement House, a neighborhood community center for poorer children in the neighborhood. Isaac Mudnick, a violinist with the New York Symphony Orchestra gave violin lessons to the children on Saturdays for a $1.00 a lesson. Herman took lessons and practiced every afternoon in his room. His parents made...