A poem.

Going Forward- Backwards

As George said… “Too old too soon. Too smart too late.”

“The driven ambitions to conquer new worlds is content to watch re-runs of “Raymond.”

“The goal to have millions for retirement is fulfilled in counting pennies for bread,”

“The gregarious pushing to secure new friends is satisfied with a post card from home.”

“The fame and fortune that was grasped for in youth ends
with the figment of the imagination.”

“The gray mass that studied Greek, Hebrew, Latin and German in one term
faces a stupor in remembering the mate’s birthday.”

“The legs that stalked Clingman’s Dome
have tremors at two A.M. between the bed and the head.”

“The eyes that followed the beams of Paris’ nights
blink helplessly at the blurred puzzle’s page.”

“The fingers that felt the Stones of Henge fumble to pickup the pebbles in the road.”

“The voice that bellowed the oracles of old quiver a whisper to the napping cat.”

“The skill that carved art out of the artless nicks itself in cleaning the fingernails.”

“The stamina for all-night driving to expected visits poops out
before reaching Wal-Mart.”

“Yet- the older the reach, the more reality becomes real!”

-Mirah el macel

Many things can come out of such a catastrophic set of events; some less anticipated than others.  Here is one of those things.

From a girl who had spent 11 years being a kid and one year learning to grow up, she writes:

Cacophony

by Hannah Campbell

If I am being called I can not hear it
Katrina’s disruptive voice is still so loud
It leaves me deaf.
I am so caught up thinking about the past
that it’s hard to hear the future.
My grandfather’s soothing voice echoes
Even though he’s gone.
The crunch of bull dozers eating houses
drowns out any thoughts of how my life is going to be.
The silence of my neighborhood
Where kids used to run and play
Screams in my ears
And I can’t concentrate.
Maybe I’ll hear a voice calling someday,
but for now,
Cacophony.