Different Slants

Seeing the World from a New Angle

I Have To Bury the Monster!!!……..by Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Gritty Katzman Chicago Stories,Jewish Themes,Life & Death,My Own Personal Hell,Poetry & Prose — Bob at 11:44 am on Friday, September 30, 2011

© September 29, 2011

 

“The Monster has Died!!

I have to bury the Monster”

Says the man who keeps the lies

I have to Bury the Monster

The Terrible One who shreds lives

Tears, crunches, slaps, punches, bites

The one who hits with leather belts and buckles

The one who shatters personalities

The Destroyer of Children

The Destroyer of Marriages

I am the Keeper of Lies

I have to Bury the Monster

No one must ever know

About Bonnie & Bobby

Charm

She had Charm

Beauty

Wit

The Life of the Party

She was

 Artistic

Popular

Persuasive

and

In demand

She wore a Mask

The Mask came off

At home

I have to Bury the Monster

To live secretly in terror

Prisoners of madness

No corner was safe in a house

When the Monster went hunting

 Her children her only prey

The Keeper of Lies and his sister Bonnie

Have to Bury the Monster

Have to meet the Rabbi

And tell lies one more time

(Read on …)

Nickel, Dime & Penny-Ante Poverty…By Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Gritty Katzman Chicago Stories,Life & Death,Philosophy,Poetry & Prose,Politics,Social Policy and Justice — Bob at 11:00 am on Monday, September 19, 2011

September 18, 2011

 

Happy meal

Happy meal

Happy meal

God Damn it!

I’m so unhappy!!

Can’t pay rent

Can’t move

Can’t pay doctors

Can’t get sick

Can’t afford to stay well, either

Tires’re bald

Can’t pay Triple A

Can’t get a flat

 My teen wants clothes

And knows that’s out

My wife?

Dinner & a movie

No chance

Can’t buy a smile from

Either one of ‘em

Only the dog’s happy to see me

 Drag my sad self through the door

Tail tick-tocking

Licking my face

Jumping around

Better keep feeding that dog, man

Or there’s no one

(Read on …)

Defining “Blow”: English Usage, Sometimes Flexible, Sometimes Rigid…by Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Gritty Katzman Chicago Stories,Humor,Poetry & Prose,subtle erotica — Bob at 8:38 am on Saturday, August 27, 2011

 by Robert M. Katzman  © August 27, 2011

 (1) Blow: To form one’s lips into a circle and expel air at varying velocities, in order to possibly remove something unwanted from a surface

(2) Blowing a Kiss: Same as above except also holding one’s hand, palm up, under one’s chin and, after making a gentle kissing sound, (which is exceptionally difficult to define) aiming the imaginary act of affection toward its intended recipient, expedited by air expelled somewhat more urgently while also eliciting a receptive response

(3) Blow Up!: Besides destroying one another’s advanced civilizations with incendiary bombs and rockets dropped from airplanes, also means  a sudden argument gone out of control with supervisor, fellow workers, one’s spouse, customer, or, on particularly bad days, all of them

(4) A Harsh Blow: To strike another’s body or intellectual concepts without mercy.  Can also mean to undercut one’s self esteem and likely to stifle one’s advancement in an organization unless the perpetrator of the act is decapitated in reality and not just in one’s imagination

(5) Blow, as per Presidential candidate Barak Obama: Cocaine, which surprisingly, is an elective at major universities throughout the world

(Read on …)

The River of Dead who have Flowed Through my Life..by Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Life & Death,Philosophy,Poetry & Prose — Bob at 11:09 am on Saturday, July 30, 2011

Saturday July 30, 2011

 

Inevitably

They die

 

Mothers

Fathers

Aunts

Uncles

 

And

Most  

Leave

Evidence

Of their Lives

Behind

Them  

 

Bits and Pieces

for the

Kids

To sort through

 

Might be

Ten Kids

But usually

Just

One

Accepts

The Pain

 

The Others?

They Move On

It doesn’t take

a

Village

to

Disassemble Mom

  (Read on …)

A Rabbi Can’t Mend A Broken Heart…by Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Bewilderment,Friendship & Compassion,Jewish Themes,Philosophy,Poetry & Prose — Bob at 9:22 pm on Thursday, June 9, 2011

(copyright May 1, 2011)

Introduction to: A Rabbi Can’t Mend A Broken Heart
(periodically amended)

This new poem was inspired by, and written expressly for Rabbi Debra Nesselson.

Watching her blossom over the last year from being a relatively quiet figure heard from the bimah only occasionally—to becoming the voice and face of B’nai Torah Congregation to the world—has fascinated me.  She is her own fairy-tale.

Today, Friday June 10, 2011 Debra Nesselson becomes a Rabbi for the rest of her life.

Her choosing to leave behind a career as a lawyer after spending seven years to become that, to spending another eight years transforming herself into a Rabbi so she could understand the law in a far more fundamental way, means Debra has spent fifteen years to get to where she is today.

More than a quarter of her entire life.

How many people would ever consider doing such a thing?  Very few.
Maybe we didn’t know what we had in our new Rabbi before today, but we certainly do now.

Here’s my poem to celebrate her new role in this important Jewish institution.
If anyone deserves a poem to contemplate their lives, it’s Debra Nesselson. 

(First Unexpected Note: Rabbi Nesselson left our temple two months later. Not all things make sense, but what I wrote about rabbis remains what I believe.  I still respect and care about Debra Nesselson.

(2nd Unexpected Note) After a tumultuous period of temple politics over philosophy, and a merry-go-round of different rabbis, my sixty-year-old temple with its 750 families closed almost exactly three years after I first posted this poem, on June 30, 2014.  A tragedy.  This note was amended on September 24th, 2014, just before the beginning of the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah.  I remain friends with and infinitely respect Rabbi Nesselson who is an unaffiliated rabbi who celebrates marriages, births, deaths and any other circumstances where people want a real rabbi.)

                               

A Rabbi

Doesn’t have all the answers

But

With a thousand other

Contentious Rabbis’

Arguments

 Ricocheting thru the Centuries

and

Ringing in her Ears

She probably has more

Good Choices

To pick from

Than you do

(Read on …)

Romance, After Sixty…by Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Love and Romance,Poetry & Prose — Bob at 8:32 am on Sunday, May 1, 2011

(copyright May 1, 2011)

 

For me, and perhaps for you..

 

Romance is rubbing her feet

While she’s sleeping

Snuggling while she’s awake

 

Romance is dancing in the kitchen

To music only we remember

 

Sitting in the driveway

Talking

Dreaming

Planning

Smiling

 

Romance is agreeing

Not about what our children didn’t do

But what they did

And remembering the rocks along the way

 

Romance is walking slower

Through a cool leafy forest

Because she needs to walk slower

Even on a level path

 

Once we hiked up

A smoking Vesuvius

Things change

  (Read on …)

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