Best Hurdler Poems
Open Letter to Thomas Jefferson
You sir, destination unknown, I dare
To address. A son of worthy causes
For land vast in majesty and vast as
Vast can be in matters of liberty;
With ideals so prim and suffused with
Philosophical forethought derived from
Your bumper harvest of keen knowledge from
Poetry to paleontology;
You the offspring of music and science,
Master of the whims of public forum,
Framer of destiny of the nation,
Bearer of the conscience of masses and
Winning hurdler of political kinks.
Now, the moldering public discourse is
Unbearable. One can no more cover
One’s nose. Nowhere is a silent shelter
From megaphone of ubiquitous din.
Where is a refuge? Simply, know not I.
I beseech you, sir, for learned counsel.
As thundering wildebeest migration
Clouds the slopes of national horizon:
Tulip of your acclaimed Law of Nature
Lies in the path of a roaring rampage.
I beg to ask, why uncanny tactile
Projections of your mind failed to measure
And forecast proneness to such afflictions.
Sir, you did not proscribe such maladies,
Or provide cautionary bells, at least.
Where have all the magistrates gone, I ask?
As I flip pages of your Summary View:
Prefaced by a motto of Cicero:
“It is the indispensable duty
Of supreme magistrate to consider
Himself as acting for community,
And obliged to support its dignity,
And assign to the people, with justice,
Their various rights, as he would remain
Faithful to the great trust reposed on him.”
Your pristine flora of the applied skills
In statesmanship and proper decorum
Is being supplanted by scurrilous
Scions of egocentric rhetoric.
Pails of justice are perceived as empty
By the parched sectors of land of plenty–
Await quenching rain of tenderness, but
Clouds of compassion remain unseeded.
Please forgive the outburst of my verses.
To rein my pen is to muzzle my soul.
I am a 2 gig desktop computer in the 21st century,
A phone model that’s just been phased out,
How can I convince the youngsters that I also had my days?
I am a Tata Nano right in the midst of a formula one race
Dwarfed and outshined
I am that athlete who finishes fourth in a photo finish
Yes just outside the podium positions
A toilet tissue,
Doing the worst job there is out there
I can’t win can i?
I am that politician sitting in opposition for fifty years
I may never attain pole position
Feel for that frail and ageing prince,
For his mother, The Queen keeps going strong
He may never reach promisedland
I am that sad student,
Repeating a paper because of that elusive single mark
You know I’m that hurdler
The one who led a final only to stumble at the last obstacle
I tried basketball
But every shot I tookwas an air ball
I am that mother who can’t identify the father of my child
I am that teenage boy who’s just lost a fight to a little girl
I’m that fellow who forgets an umbrella on a rainy day
Think of that performer acting in an empty arena
The comedian whose jokes are dry
I’m a broken guitar
I’m a cracked mirror
I’m three legged chair
I’m but a leaking roof
Life is not at all fair
Everything seems aloof
I was small league star
But I barely leave a mark in top flight
I was a big fish in a small pond
I’ve become small fish in a big sea
Out of my depth but I will not stop trying
Yes I missed many penalties in my life
Hit the post when my team was down
Had my fair share of own goals
I cut myself when I shave
But that doesn’t stop me
I will hit the reset button
Reboot the system if necessary
I have a master plan
A wonder drug and it will work
Or will it?
Long John Silver, a hurdler, goes for the gold
Tall and long-legged, he sure fits the mold
Long John clears every bar
It's his moment to star --
'Til his 'other long leg' sticks out too far