Seymour Shubin – Page 3

Horns of Life Poem by Seymour Shubin

January 26, 2015January 9, 2013 by David Michael Jackson

Horns of Life

It was evening and the first
of the horns could be heard
In the distance
And my brother Aaron barely sixteen
Was going out with a friend
And Aaron would be driving
And I’d be left alone
At home
My parents were going out
Too
And just as he was leaving
Aaron said
Would you like to come with
And oh boy would I
And so I sat in back
Aaron driving
Irving next him.
And first we went to a movie
And then for a fairly long drive
And we stopped somewhere for hot dogs,
And I loved the sound of horns in the distance,
As though announcing the best New Years of my life
And now of my thoughts
With Aaron long dead
And all of my friends
And I think of the horns
Echoing over Aaron’s grave
I only wish
He could hear them
Oh if he could hear them
With me.

***Photo from the caves in Lascaux in southwestern France

Half Ball – Poem by Seymour Shubin

January 26, 2015December 5, 2012 by David Michael Jackson

Half-Ball

We played what we used to call half-ball
Which involves cutting a regular pimple ball in half
So you couldn’t hit it too far on a city street
Or driveway
Just far enough so you could get a hit
Or even a home run
He was a gentle boy, this boy, about two years older
Than the rest of us, maybe three.
Well, he played this one game in the driveway So full of life,
so when a neighbor came to our door
The next day with word that he’d died
And no one knew why, not even the doctors,
Just went to bed and died, This kid with the same
First name as mine, which made it even worse,
But not as bad as when we’d drive past the cemetery
On our frequent trips
to New York to visit my eldest sister
And her family
And as we drove by I would think of him in there
With all those ghostly old people.
But then a couple of years later
They built a highway
That by- passed the cemetery
I was glad at first
Until I realized how much
More lonely he might be.

At The Vet – Someday Poem by Seymour Shubin

January 26, 2015October 31, 2012 by David Michael Jackson

Perhaps

The vet said, “Are you sure?”
And Glo said yes
But I was looking at the old girl
Walking around our feet, unknowing
And I said let’s take her home again
And see
But Glo said it’s too much of a mess.
Kind Glo who had brought Lady home
Many years ago and loved her
So we lifted the poor thing up
To the table
And she lay there, tail slapping
And I watched the needle go in
And the poor thing’s movements
Stopped almost immediately
And all I could think of
Was
Why not for human suffering
Perhaps me some day?

Poem : A Fish Story by Seymour Shubin

January 26, 2015September 19, 2012 by David Michael Jackson

A Fish Story

We took our little son to a carnival

He must have been five or six

And we came across a game

Which if you won, you won a goldfish.

I didn’t want a goldfish but my son did

So I threw something that connected

With something

And the little boy came home with a goldfish

in a water-filled plastic bag

He was so happy and we were happy

For him

But the next morning he came to our bed

Crying

It seems he tried to change the water

But he did it over the toilet

And the fish dropped down

Forever lost

The boy was crying so hard, poor thing

And so I told him that the fish

Had made its way to the river

And was with his mother and father and brothers and sisters

And friends, oh yes friends

A 60 year old lie which I wish I could believe in now

To meet my mother and father and sisters

And brother again

And oh yes, all those old friends.

Poem by Seymour Shubin Drawing by Michael Franklin 1999, age 6

Poem About Lying by Seymour Shubin

January 26, 2015August 31, 2012 by David Michael Jackson

About Lying

My mother used to say it
When I was growing up
But I never really understood it
Until I was, say, about thirteen
Or so.
And what she used to say was
“I hate liars,
A liar and a thief are the same.”
Like I say, it sounded good
Though I didn’t really understand it
For years,
That a liar and a thief are the same
Because they both steal something from you.
How true, and I try to live it
Even though it puts me
At a disadvantage.

The Reunion Poem by Seymour Shubin

January 26, 2015July 24, 2012 by David Michael Jackson

THE REUNION

He’s back with family,
Mother, father, sister.
The silence of the meeting
And then what we can only
Imagine.
Do they touch?
Do they kiss?
Do they talk?
But do they even remember who they were
Or what they are?
Is she still his mother
And the father with all the jokes
Can he still tell them?
And his sister, she’d had such pain
Is she smiling again?
But do they even know that I am
Here?
I leave a stone in case they do