Poetry by Betty Farber
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“When you are old and grey and full of sleep” Yeats
Though I am old and grey and full of sleep, I still can choose to write and laugh and love. I know which dreams to lose and which to keep. At times I smile at fortune, times I weep, And lift my tearful eyes to heaven above, Since I am old and grey and full of sleep. Memories sustain me; thoughts can creep, Some cheerful; some I am unworthy of. I know which ones to lose and which to keep. Let go of loneliness, although it’s anchored deep Within my soul— I’m lost without my love, Since I am old and grey and full of sleep. When drowning in despair that is too deep, I call on thoughts that I am tired of. I know which dreams to lose and which to keep. So when you see me sighing, do not weep. It is the sound of mourning, like the dove. Though I am old and grey and full of sleep I know which dreams to lose and which to keep.
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With sharpened pencil in my room,
I meet my family group on Zoom. Each week I join this grand event: A crossword that’s a puzzlement. I love to solve a Shakespeare clue Like, “eye source in a witch’s brew.” The hint might be a funny one: A far-fetched joke, a rhyme, a pun. I want to give a word of thanks For clues where you must fill in blanks. But I’m not filled with great elation When I must know a whole quotation. Don’t get upset. That’s just absurd! You must express not one Cross Word! Named: Copper, Jack. Silas, Bentley, Garbo, Gina, Missy (and Millie)
On my trip to the Midwest Seeing family was the best. But at each household — no regrets, They introduced me to their pets. This is a kind of monolog Of how I got to know each dog. Let me put this in the hopper I first meet Jack and lovely Copper. They sleep and eat and hear us talk, And twice a day we take a walk, Along with Nan and Rawn, her mate. Then we visit Brad and Kate. Great-grandkids there can all beguile us As do their dogs, Bentley & Silas. One is black and one is white One is fierce, one a delight. Then dinner with our friend named Jan We loved her shrimp dish in a pan, Like the others, even more so We loved her dog whose name is Garbo. Despite her name, she did not moan, Or say “I vant to be alone.” From there we drove to Steve and Amy I love their dog and you can’t blame me. I’m sure you never could have seen a Pet as nice as their dog Gina. Then on to Nick and Emily And kids, all very dear to me, Whose dog, alert to any dangers, Is not so comfortable with strangers. The children love her; she’s no sissy They hug their big black dog named Missy. (In closing, you may think I’m silly For adding Nancy’s cat named Millie.) So here is where I end my blogs Of going to the cats & dogs. I watch the world go by on First Avenue;
Not just mothers and fathers pushing prams, But skaters, scooters, runners, A juggler magically moving a ball in the air, A couple carrying home sections Of a table they just bought, He with the legs, she with the tabletop. And crossing First Avenue, on a ninety-degree day All of the city in sweltering heat, A tall, handsome man, naked to the waist Wearing only a pair of khaki shorts On his beautiful brown body. We greeted each other. Strangers no more. I wished him “Good Morning!” “Hi Mama” he answered, And gave me a thumbs up. I said, “Beautiful Day!” and it was A beautiful day on First Avenue! How can my mind make any sense
Of what is called “coincidence”? Is it bizarre, a mystery? Or just the way life seems to be? Would you be thinking so much lesser Of me, if I didn’t know that Hesse Won the Nobel Prize for Peace? But, (will wonders never cease?) The day that Quest told that to me It was a clue on Jeopardy! The question, if you’d like to bother Was, “Who was the author of Siddhartha?” I’m home, at ease, a memory brings To mind a friend – my cell phone rings. You surely guess what I’ll relate, It is that friend! It is that mate! But best is when you have a dream To eat a pie with mounds of cream. And someone that you dearly love, Says, “That’s what I was thinking of!” NEWS ITEM: Texas Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick, is of the opinion that old people, i.e. those most at risk, should volunteer to die to save the economy.
I AM SUPPOSED TO SAY... By Betty Farber I am supposed to say That I would gladly die To salvage a booming economy For my grandchildren. But then who would tell them How their great-grandmother Sailed from Russia, with her family On the ship The Fatherland When she was 8 years old. Who would touch her name proudly Etched on the wall at Ellis Island? Who would describe to the grandchildren A world without technology: No computers, no streaming, no smart phones? How we played Monopoly and marbles, Wore roller skates with the metal key Dangling from a string around our neck. Who would tell them about World War II Rationing, blackouts, War Bonds? Who would describe living through Ageism, racism and sexism? And who will teach them To choose Life? Poem Immortalizes Complexity of Romance at Bagel Works Bakery New York City | February 14, 2019—“Bagels and Romance,” a poem by New Yorker, Betty Farber, now hangs on the wall of Bagel Works bakery on 1stAvenue (http://bagelworksnyc.com). Inspired by a conversation she overheard, Betty captures a nugget of truth related to judging character through the lense of a bagel order in this commentary on modern love. See the poem, following, which was included her book, My New York: City Poems. Bagelworks on First Avenue
Sells a variety of bagels To please anyone’s taste. I’m waiting for my order to be filled. A woman behind me is talking On a cellphone to her boyfriend. “I’m at Bagelworks right now. What kind of bagel do you want: Sesame, whole wheat, pumpernickel Sourdough, poppyseed, everything? What? A plain bagel?” She is incredulous And complains to the nearest stranger, “I thought he was unique, unconventional, And he orders a plain bagel. I may Have to rethink this relationship.” “That man is in deep trouble,” I say to myself, As I pay for my bagel order. With an eye on my own relationships I take home sesame, sourdough, everything. (What Jake may be thinking
as he poses with his brother, Toby.) 1. You’re too boisterous; It hurts my ears. Just because you Were born a minute Before me, you think You can always take charge. 2. Stop waving those arms I’m getting upset! You know I’m sensitive And you’re making me cry. 3. Now you’re wailing too, You’re copying me. That makes me feel better. Just listen to yourself. 4. We are together. A pair of brothers With smiles on our faces. You may weigh more But my smile is bigger! P.S. (Toby’s thoughts) What a witty description Of our two-month-old selves, But for the next set of photos I’ll be the poet. Perhaps it may seem foolish to explain
The many clever uses for a cane. I do not find your ignorance appalling If you believe it’s just to keep from falling. And traveling on the subway it’s so neat That males and females offer you a seat. What OTHER things can canes be useful for? For thrusting though an elevator door Instead of holding open with your arm So that your arm will never come to harm. You’re on a bus and waiting for your stop. How can you pull the wire near the top? Glance at the ceiling. Take a measured look. Then use your cane just as you would a hook. If you behave as I have just suggested You’ll see the sign light up now: STOP REQUESTED. Essential in all weathers is my cane It keeps me safe from snow and wind and rain Avoiding slippery stuff that I might step on-- On dark nights I could use it as a weapon! |
AuthorBetty Farber lives in New York City. She is a great-grandmother of six. Archives
July 2022
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