Weekly Poems from Poems for Free: A Labor Day Poem and More
LET THERE BE A RIGHT TO EARN A LIVING
Let there be a right to earn a living!
All who wish to work should have the chance.
Bad times come and go with circumstance:
Ought we then be hiring or just giving?
Rest assured, there's always much to do:
Demand's determined more by funds than need.
All we give away is wealth we bleed,
Yet work for wages would that wealth renew.
LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL, MY CHILD
Life is beautiful, my child,
Though many things go wrong,
And you may hear much sadness in
Its strange and lovely song.
Though friends and loved ones die, my child,
They're never really gone.
Nor more nor less than yesterday,
In you they will live on.
They will live on in you, my child,
As everything you see,
Though it must vanish, will remain
Alive in memory.
Alive in what you think and feel
And dream and say and do,
For all who ever were still are
Upon this earth in you.
MARRIAGE, AS A CHOICE, REQUIRES CHOICES
Marriage, as a choice, requires choices.
One must choose not once, but every day.
Life offers us a hundred thousand voices,
Yet those we fail to hear fast fade away.
I choose you with all my wounded heart:
You and our two children. All the rest
Lies in the distance, charming, but apart
From the circle of the ones with whom I'm blessed.
Our marriage isn't easy, but our love
Is still the force that shapes my daily life.
I want us to be happy, and will move
Wherever I must be to be your wife.
I'm yours, and I want you to be mine.
We'll find a way our wishes to combine.
LET'S NOT MINIMIZE THE ROLE OF THUGS
Let's not minimize the role of thugs
And gangsters in the history of labor.
Beasts and saints together weave the rugs
On which we walk, and ordinary folk
Rendering allegiance to whomever.
Desperate now, the unions bear the yoke
Abjectly of their presidents-for-life.
Yet workers still must organize and strike.
ROSH HASHANA OPENS UP THE BOOK
Rosh Hashana opens up the book
Of life, that we might be inscribed therein.
So does the will work wonders with the wind,
Hallowing the leaves that tempests shook.
How might we make our peace with death and pain?
As terror stalks our steps, how might we dance,
Singing through the vales of circumstance,
However dark or haunted by the slain?
All we have are justice, hope, and love,
Nor will these weak or insufficient prove
As we repent our anger once again.
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS, AND STILL YOU ARE IN LOVE
Twenty-five years, and still you are in love!
What river does not deepen as it flows?
Each day your love increases as it goes,
Nourishing the lands through which it moves.
The love that lasts is deeper far than passion.
Years pass and it abides beneath the light.
Few know the secrets of its dark delight,
Intent on all the toys that are in fashion.
Vivid lusts yield pleasures that soon cease.
Each year of love yields happiness and peace.
THERE IS NO GIFT MORE PRECIOUS THAN ONE'S HEALTH
There is no gift more precious than one's health.
Happiness must rest upon that ground.
Alight with pain, no pleasure can be found,
Nor joy in love or beauty, words or wealth.
Know that I am grateful for your skill,
Your sensitivity and dedication.
Out of strength, I dreaded all sensation
Until your healing touch restored my will.
About the Author:
Nicholas Gordon is a poet and the webmaster of the popular poetry site, Poems for Free at http://www.poemsforfree.com. He holds a Ph.D. in English and American Literature from Stanford University. For most of his working life, he taught English at New Jersey City University, in Jersey City, NJ.