Job Search Program - Week Two

Sonnet for the Government shutdown

The teacher couldn’t come to class today.
They say it was because the government
shut down.  Let’s call it by its proper name:
A high-tech coup d’etat is what occured –
transfer of power from the president
of the republic we had, to the thugs,
the mob.  The ethics of the Fogged Bottom
swamp have made their way to Capitol Hill.
Don’t you speak French?  It was a coup d’etat!
The King is dead, long live the King of State.
Democracy has fallen, patriots!
Like punks we are, we weep and wring our hands:
One day we all will answer for this crime –
and that is why this sonnet cannot rhyme.

Job Search Program - Week One

JSP Day One, October 7, 2013 -  Career Transition Inventory

Things I am sad to leave behind:

camaraderie -

schedule regularity -

predictability -

familiarity -

short commute -

helping younger colleagues develop their careers - 

Things I am glad to leave behind:

mindless, soul-less bureaucracy -

bidding -

writing performance evaluations -

working late evenings and on weekends -

task forces -

self-important people -

wearing a neck-tie every day -

wearing dress shoes (ever!) -

large dry-cleaning bills -

inconsiderate dragons who think their breath is fire. 

Metro Center

He always knew
his enemies
would not be able
to destroy him -  

nor would
violence or disease
conspire to 
take him out –

nor would he be
behind the wheel
when he crossed
the River Jordan –

one night he would
fall asleep, as usual,
and wake up
in Beulahland.

October 6, 2013, revised on December 6, 2013

JSP Day Four – October 10, 2013 – Values Exercise

serenity

elegance/simplicity

spirituality/self-expression

integrity/authenticity

aesthetics/beauty/romance

comradeship/loyalty

accuracy/precision

service/participation/community

forward the action

lack of pretense

Rainy Night in Foggy Bottom

When it rains all night in Foggy Bottom

you can smell the swamp beneath us -

the old rotted tree roots, the tadpoles,

the water moccasins skimming -

The swamp is only ever ten feet away –

and all that separates us is asphalt,

and gas and water pipes,

and underground telephone lines.

It’s pitch black down there –

dark from lack of light,

black as a night without stars –

even the water is black.

The level of the swamp rises

as our own level imperceptibly falls,

both at an accelerating rate – -

soon we will be together.

Sonnet for a rainy Sunday morning

I heard a tale that made me feel so sad

about a friend, abandoned by his art

or it by he, his talent to impart

some sense of beauty vanished like a fad.

But let us tell his story in this verse:

his art brought joy and gladness to his friends,

and satisfied his soul’s deep urge to mend

a broken world.  What happened was perverse,

expression of his talent overcome

by stress of work, career became for him

the higher call.  The artist’s light soon dimmed,

and Tantalus foretold his martyrdom.

This cautionary tale includes one plea:

one truth, one hope for immortality.

10/13/2013