Monday, December 31, 2012

Sonnet 76 -- New Year's Already????

Another New Year…this one is quiet
People drink and laugh and blast a cheap horn
We pledge to write and get on that diet
We’ll forget we said it tomorrow morn
I leave Times Square to the young and the strong
No more adventures, I plan to survive
Sickness makes my aging life seem too long
I guess we had good years to be alive
We had the sex, the booze and rock and roll
I want to rest now and fuck the worry
Too much of failure has taken its toll
No fame or profit, just tell a story
And just try to enjoy my twenty thirteen
Happy for life, if you know what I mean

Friday, December 28, 2012

Sonnet 75 The Golden One

american memes and philosophies
tell us that we should dream and not accept
the time comes you know you won’t find the keys
and it’s thirty years since you should have leapt
even the young ones are finding doors closed
hungry people now are standing in line
and we all are feeling that we’ve been hosed
i can’t risk losing what little is mine
so accept the truth, you silly old crone
you won’t be discovered at sixty three
and that man won’t change and pick up the phone
thank the Gods for being well fed and free
we made our art and bedded some beauties
let’s laugh and forget ambition’s duties

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Sonnet 74 -- A Christmas Pudding

Not having children or starting careers
We had our chances and we walked away
Happiness will come if we face our fears
Beginnings are done and won’t start today
We finish the race and are summing up
There is wisdom in our stark survival
We no longer need to drink from the cup
I know I’m not the young woman’s rival
But we are experts in life’s challenges
And I, at least, have the time to reflect
We can teach them tactics and revenges
And end our lives with a touch of respect
Too late for fame or children or houses
We can still roar like lions not mouses

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Sonnet 73 quack said the fish

a pause to clean the glass, like it matters
there is nothing in life that will succeed
watching the world collapse as it shatters
no wealth or fame I didn’t even breed
get sick have tests cut you open survive
and why am I chosen to have enough
while better folks die I can stay alive
have a roof and a meal and too much stuff
but there will be no lover or award
can no longer swim as the waters rise
there is no relief miss boring is bored
the strength is leaving my sagging old thighs
my art was always close but no cigar
let those more talented stock the bazaar

Friday, November 30, 2012

Small Steps in the Return to Words

you really have to touch the ones you love
telephones and web cams are not enough

you know that you have moved on from a love
when angered at the woman who hurt him

this sudden, burning pain in my stomach
has made me into a better woman

Friday, November 23, 2012

The Self-Destruct Button

Can We Every Destroy the Self-Destruct Button?

Tall and Skinny
And Artistic
Poet, Actor, Painter
I’ve done it over and over
With the same result
The self-destruct button
Always wins
And I always lose
To the girl who
Wants to push
The button
With him

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Sonnet 72 -- Bad Sonnet on the Hurrican

I took a drive to see what I could see
And yes, we are indeed in luck today
Branches, trash cans, and leaves were broken free
Some errant Angel must have come my way
Three big trees down on Watchung Avenue
I have no taste for revelry tonight
Halloween, we will not be having you
We have Mother Nature to give us fright
But still, I am pleased with my Governor
And am moved by American courage
Undefeated by the bitch Sandy’s roar
We clean ourselves up and turn the damned page
And pray that we can heed the warning
And stop the madness of global warming

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Sonnet 72 --Hurricanes, Weird Macs and Bitchy Moods

This Lady doth be like unto a bitch
How dare they call a hurricane “Sandy”?
The name should be that of an evil witch
Not some stupid female cotton candy!
Look at your life? Just look at mine! A waste!
No husband, children or play productions
Of success Reinhard’s never had one taste
No love has touched her thousand seductions
All she’s achieved is to somehow survive
And finally grown a crippled backbone
Sitting here waiting for the storm to arrive
Once more happier to be home alone
But even burdened with this stupid ass MS
I want to think I might still have success

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Sonnet 71--On Posterity

Shakespeare did not know that he was Shakespeare
But I know I have no posterity
Paper lacks the strength of canvas, I fear
My age and illness demands reality
Butt-kissing trips to NYC are done
Can’t subsidize their rent with workshop fees
Besides, rehearsals are no longer fun
I say the wrong thing and no longer please
But on the television screen last week
In the closing credits, I saw your name
Your art is purchased by the ones who seek
A timeless master who lives in the frame
You’ve earned a rest and an easier life
We’ll see to the fame, you go find a wife

Friday, October 19, 2012

Sonnet for a friend on his Fifty-Fifth Birthday

Sonnet for a friend on his Fifty-Fifth Birthday

Life is a series of crises solved
And decisions that seemed wise at the time
Too fast to understand what had devolved
We thought it right but the line doesn’t rhyme
The clothes of a young man no longer fit
But the boy is still there behind the eyes
Some of life is perfect and some is shit
So hard to sort out the truth from the lies
But here we are, still alive and kicking
Learning and building and loved by our God
Friends and Art and Joy to keep us ticking
Glory in being beautifully odd
And I hope you have a lovely autumn
And find your perfect lace-covered bottom

Sunday, October 14, 2012

First Stab at writing a new ending for Amour Americain

Don’t comfort me! Stop trying to help! I’m just a crippled warrior who has no foe except  for my disease and age and uselessness. Who can’t even save the life of the man she loves! Chrissie! My Cadette…help me stand! The Devil is in the air tonight and I do not want him catching me sitting  in a chair.

(Siriana moves to the stair, holding on to the rail, looking where Roxy disappeared.)

All my books and education are lies
Youth, health and beauty remain our masters
Oh, I know what my Epitaph will be
They will call me Teacher and Poetess
Survivor of Multiple Sclerosis
Whom no successful man could ever love.
And they’re right.
Despite fame and fortune and all my art
I know there lives the foolish girl in me
Without house or child…without a husband
Writing a hundred times in my notebook:
Mrs. Robert Xavier Yeager.
Who is, in reality, his widow.
Dressed in black.
The Press hovers over my dying light
Like a careless Goddess, rubbing her hands
Waiting for my voice to finally cease
Oh, I know what my Epitaph will be
She was a strong poster child for MS
Who helped the poor and voiceless of the world.
Fought greed and hatred and cowardice
Sirianna Diane Bergmann
Who thought she was a big hot deal
But the Media, that giant asshole
With Facebook and Twitter analysis
Will bring her reputation back to Earth.
Will call her blank verse rhymeless gibberish
Just another voice screaming in the dark.

(Chrissie brings Sirianna her cane.)

But my Cadettes! My Sisterhood! My friends! It’s not what we said but that we were heard! Keep fighting! Keep marching! And keep loving. Love with all your heart and soul…with style and panache!
And always remember.

Siriana D. Bergmann was not crippled!
 (Siriana thrusts her cane to the sky. Lights down. End of play.)