Author: Gary Beck
Source: https://www.polseguera.com/writers/writing-589_purpose.html


Purpose


Gary Beck/Purpose

 

Assessment

I sit among the aged, infirm,

in the hospital room

and know I am aged, infirm.

 

Unlike some I do not cry:

'where did the time go?'

I know where it went.

A lot of excitement.

A lot of fulfillment.

 

Frustration

at not improving the world

gnaws at me daily.

I do not believe

in judgment day,

having spent many days

judging, being judged,

too often found wanting

in the ideals I aspire to.

 

At this time I think the good

outweighs the bad,

but I have not learned

how to measure

positive accomplishments.

 

I frequently remember

the evil I have done

that burdens me now,

not concerned with the afterlife.

Just the ongoing worry

that the pain and suffering

I caused out of anger,

indifference, ignorance,

may still effect some.

 

Others I knew are departed

and there is no restitution,

no atonement,

for there is no erasing

bad deeds of the past.

 

 

Flat or Round

Climate change is controversial,

many denying it's real,

but most are unqualified

to decide,

offering opinions, not facts,

rejecting conclusions

from scientists,

reminiscent

of the ignorant

in the Middle Ages,

claiming the world was...

 

 

Wondrous Build

Year after year they dragged the stones

for a memorial

to the dead.

And it was a mighty work,

the greatest engineering marvel

of the ancient world

conveniently located

in the desert,

so when a stone fell

it only killed a slave,

the machinery of the times.

And it still stands

thousands of years later,

though no longer sanctified

as a place for the dead.

 

A new building goes up

in midtown Manhattan

on Madison Avenue

and 42nd Street,

a dense part of the city.

And as it soars

day after day

in the city of skyscrapers,

the wonderful construction

does not interfere

with the busy life around it.

Tourists stop nearby,

photo Grand Central Terminal,

a noble edifice,

and never notice

the incredible rise

of a shimmering spire

proclaiming modernity,

not dropping a stone

that would not fall in the desert,

but land on pedestrians,

killing and injuring many,

instead a testament

to modern achievement.

 

 

Waste

A leaf trembles, falls,

flutters to the ground

does not decompose

on unwelcoming concrete,

does not nourish

new life.

 

 

Endangered

America,

no longer beautiful,

unwelcoming to immigrants

once the composition

of a great empire

that nurtured many,

despite the oligarchs

who allowed the middle class

to briefly flourish.

Then greed and selfishness prevailed

and the oligarchs abandoned the nation,

let our factories go abroad,

let our jobs go abroad,

ruining the blue collar class,

so the future was hi-tech jobs

only suitable for some,

service jobs for all,

permitted a bleak existence.

And the owners of America

bought the lawmakers

who supported their gluttony,

amassing billions and billions

while most of the people

struggled to make ends meet.

Like their role models,

the 18th century aristos,

they will feast

until the nation collapses.