Different Slants

Seeing the World from a New Angle

Depression is Time Askew…by Robert M. Katzman

Robert M. Katzman’s Amazing Story:  http://www.differentslants.com/?p=355
© March 5, 2014  (inspired by David Griesemer)

I race to work
No one’s there
I don’t want to miss
Another chance
To be missed

This may seem
Contemplation of emptiness
During unending time
Has rearranged my

Watching young faces
Daily obituaries flit by
Even the famed
Are blips in
Sound and light
and then only
Dimly distant

My broad lengthy
Main Street
Red hydrants
Tall light poles
Brick curbs
Black sewers
Green signs

Unobserved study
Real life
Still life

I won the
Windstorm lottery
As the capricious Wind
Sucked my glass windows
From their fragile frames
No other windows
On my street
Were touched

One window shattered
The other lay there intact
Like an ancient couple
With skin transparent
How many years had they shared
That black now twisted frame?
Can the inanimate grieve?

Recycled wooden planks
Swiftly filled the gap
How old were the
Random wood scraps
Reassembled to
Make this barrier to my eyes?
Do they recall
Sunlight on their leaves?

I can more clearly see the
Total lack of pedestrians
I could only imagine them
Not being there

With so much to read
A million pages?
I do not revisit the past
There is no suspense
I already know
The past’s future

I have dwelled
in decades passed
No time lived at all
Compared to the thousands
of years
Marching backwards

The present becoming
The past
Second by second
It is impossible to
Keep up with the flow

Is there no beach
to rest on?
A break in time?
How many sharp rocks
Lie hidden before me?

How long the
Unobserved future?
My darkness
Will the Sun ever shine
on my
Uncomprehending face
All the foamy chaos?

Depression is Time askew

Readers, your comments are welcome below. Writers want to be read and remembered. Please share the existence of my story/poetry site with others who might be interested. Thank you.

 Another word from the author;

Bob Katzman, poet, writer (5 books in print), entrepreneur and technophobe is seeking smart representation as a speaker for hire and to record all my work. As a guy who took on America’s largest magazine distributor in a six-year battle, and beat ‘em, as well as Com Ed, AT&T and Amex after that, all while having cancer at 18 and brain surgery (twice) at 54, plus 34 other operations, I know I can inspire both young and old people who possibly have less to overcome in their pursuit of happiness.

I’m the only guy to write a book about running a chain of newsstands for 20 years despite all the corruption Chicago had to offer. When things got really bad, the Chicago Syndicate stepped in to help me out. Scary. I can be reached at robertmkatzman@gmail.com or 847.274.1474. Serious responses only, people. For the really curious, go to www.DifferentSlants.com/?p=3024 and read:

The City is Littered With the Corpses of My Retail Life


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June 21, 2016 @ 10:18 am |Edit This

This is so beautiful, Bob. Why do people insist in boxing us? Why can’t they ask (instead of what accident of birth provoked your existence — and how can I align myself for it against you) what do you love, how do you share joy, how can I help you in the Here & Now?


June 21, 2016 @ 10:55 am |Edit This

Wow! Very powerful and, generalized, I suspect it can be applied to individuals of many persecuted groups. (Not many with such an iconic symbol though.) Be well.


June 21, 2016 @ 11:38 am |Edit This


Sometimes prudence of our identity may be wise.

I’m not usually concerned about someone trying to kill me. I’m more concerned with my willingness to defend myself if the need arises.

We learn through our lives how best to survive. My way is not for everyone. Somebody else’s way may not be for me.

For some in our nation, risks are higher than some of the rest of us. Those who presume themselves to be at higher risk should use prudence or defend themselves as they choose.

There are no guarantees in life. So choose wisely in living the life we have.

Warmest regards,



June 21, 2016 @ 12:38 pm |Edit This

I can’t decide if you’re cautious or paranoid. And yes, like many American Jews today, many German Jews considered their nationality paramount, their religion secondary. I’m not a self-conscious Jew. But in fact I don’t think my Jewishness has either promoted or hindered my vocation as a lawyer/labor arbitrator or my avocation as a poet. I get cases. I get published. People treat me with respect.

Can “it” happen here? Of course it can. Am I going to worry about it? No. It’s unthinkable that I’d through every day uncertain, suspicious, worried.


June 23, 2016 @ 4:33 am |Edit This

Thank you for helping me understand in such a powerful way. I would love to share this on Facebook (with your name on the front) with your permission. Wow, this was good.


June 29, 2016 @ 7:32 am |Edit This

like a heart on a sleeve…(as always,b.)


June 29, 2016 @ 8:13 am |Edit This

thank you for sharing your beautiful insightful writings . Eileen


August 3, 2016 @ 10:32 am |Edit This

I can certainly understand how you feel, only I can never hide. Even others who have felt persecution think they know me before they’ve met me. It’s as if my complexion is a crime or a deadly weapon! Quite a moving piece Bob!

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Comment by bruce matteson

March 5, 2014 @ 4:26 pm

this is exciting…your poetry is getting richer and richer while everyone but the criminally insane are getting poorer and poorer…mmmm…i wonder…

Comment by Helene

March 5, 2014 @ 4:41 pm

Wish I could write that beautifully

Comment by Sheryl Rak

March 5, 2014 @ 4:46 pm

Thank you for sharing your thoughts, feelings, insights in such an eye-opening, heart-rending way~~

Comment by Brad Dechter

March 5, 2014 @ 6:00 pm

This one looks into your soul. Whether we like what we see or not, it is truly eloquent and well said!
Hugs Bro!

Comment by David Griesemer

March 5, 2014 @ 8:07 pm

“Random wood scraps…Do they recall Sunlight on their leaves?”

You manage to make even lumber sympathetic.

Comment by David Griesemer

March 7, 2014 @ 12:49 am

The line about a lack of pedestrians – “Lately I could only imagine them Not being there” – is worthy of Yogi Berra.

And describing the two windows as a “couple” with one now destroyed. A poignant metaphor for so many of us and our spouses. Once again, Bob deftly turns the mundane into something profound. It’s his trademark.

Everywhere in this piece, you see homage to great writing.
“Even the famed Are blips…” is straight out of Macbeth’s soliloquy in Act 5.
“I already know The past’s future” – the curse of Merlin who, according to T.H. White, lived life in reverse.
“Is there no beach…how many sharp rocks Lay hidden before me?” – Homer’s Odyssey.

Water finds it’s own level. So does talent.

Comment by Lukie Marriott

March 7, 2014 @ 1:41 pm

I started reading your poem . . . and continued to the end. Not always a given these days, with so much thrown at us every minute.
A moving, rich poem.
Thank you.

Comment by Srosenb3777@gmail.com

March 12, 2014 @ 3:38 pm

Bob : a brilliant poem. Stephen Rosenbaum

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