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Sidetracked

Life’s troubles come in all varieties,
From nagging aches that barely raise a frown,
To fearsome packs of deep anxieties
That, given half a chance, will drag us down.

Much worse is when assaults get physical,
Break bones, tear muscles, even puncture skin.
Expressions on good days turn quizzical;
On bad days our complaints make quite a din,
 
For we’re convinced immediate relief
Is but a bitter transient deferment,
And we’ll hold fast to this morose belief
Until the very day of our interment.

We’ve heard of some who have embraced the pain,
A station on the path to greater glory,
But till we’re sure that they were not insane,
We’ll stay the course, still sticking to our story.

.

.

Words from the Birds

Right now, I’d like to share with you some secrets
Disclosed to me by knowing snowy egrets:
The swamps are very good, except the one
Polluting everything in Washington;
Blue herons never tell the truth because
They hate the damage full disclosure does
To their positions in the highest branches;
The cattle grazing on southwestern ranches
Produce far fewer climate-changing farts
Than congressmen who ply their legal arts
To keep the populace beneath their thumb.
This flood of information leaves us numb
To anything elected liars say,
And as we try to keep the wolves at bay,
We heed the oracles that wear the feather
On anything pertaining to the weather.
If ever our renewed discernment fades
We’ll reconvene down in the Everglades.

.

.

C.B. Anderson was the longtime gardener for the PBS television series, The Victory Garden.  Hundreds of his poems have appeared in scores of print and electronic journals out of North America, Great Britain, Ireland, Austria, Australia and India.  His collection, Mortal Soup and the Blue Yonder was published in 2013 by White Violet Press.


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19 Responses

  1. Roy Eugene Peterson

    I really love these two poems, C.B., because of the messages they both convey, the subtle truths embedded in the beautiful words and rhymes, and the smooth flowing meter. “Sidetracked” skillfully conveys the difficulties we all face growing older with our “morose beliefs” inhabiting our minds during our declining years. “Words from the Birds” employs the great concept of “Blue Egrets” that are an unmistakable target. Then you brilliantly conclude with, “We’ll reconvene down in the Everglades.” Your words are rich with meaningful sensory images.

    Reply
    • C.B. Anderson

      You, Roy, have taken from these nearly everything I put into them. “Blue Egrets?” I would hate to see a blue-pilled egret. “Heron” differs from “Herod” by a single letter. The next time we are both down in Florida, let’s order up some frog legs.

      Reply
  2. Yael

    Omg, you just hit all the nails straight and plumb on the head with these two gems. Very impressive, and I love the flowing and moving rhymes and images in both poems. Great job!

    Reply
    • C.B. Anderson

      I can’t think of a better person than you, Yael, with whom to share a brain. As it happens, I have a long history of applying woodworking skills, with at least modest success. Words, like genes, work best when they are recombinate.

      Reply
  3. jd

    Loved both poems, C.B., especially the second since I am fascinated by birds. So clever is the way you have used two along with other members of the animal kingdom to highlight the bird-brained actions of our ruling class.

    Reply
    • C.B. Anderson

      Comparing our “leaders” to birds is an insult to birds, JD. I see a lot of birds in my yard, and they all seem to be extremely competant in what they do. There’s much to be learned from them. Mammals, or so we’ve been taught, came later.

      Reply
  4. Russel Winick

    Great imagery, metaphors, rhyme, meter, and messaging. You’ve done yourself proud again, Sir, and we’re the beneficiaries of it. Thanks for the fine reads!

    Reply
    • C.B. Anderson

      Then consider this, Russel, partial repayment for all the verbal delight you’ve given me in the last few years.

      Reply
  5. Joseph S. Salemi

    I like “Sidetracked” because it talks honestly about human suffering (which can be big or little, but in any case maddeningly upsetting). And yet the poem ends not with some bogus hope, but with the deeply realistic conclusion that we generally don’t have an explanation or answer for it, no matter what we’re told by others. We just have to “stay the course, still sticking to our story.”

    “Words from the Birds” is a nice little satiric slap at the hucksters and liars and con-men who rule us. We really could use direction from some other source, even if it has to be birds. But I have to think of the blue herons as Democrats (from the Blue states) since they never tell the truth, hate full disclosure, and are desperate to maintain their high positions.

    Reply
    • C.B. Anderson

      “Blue,” as you suggested, was no accident. In these parts, Blue Herons are a menace to anyone who wants to maintain a fish pond. When I lived in the Blue River Valley of eastern Arizona, I would often see them atop the tallest dead pine trees, which we called snags. God help any frog or goldfish that attracts their attention. No matter how much we suffer, we will not gladly suffer fools.

      Reply
  6. Margaret Coats

    C. B., I didn’t know about any blue heron other than the Great Blue, a magnificent wader four feet tall with a six-foot wing span. Thinking of a Great Blue in position on the highest branches, therefore, suggested an imminent, amusing topple. If only it would happen at the insalubrious swamp!

    Reply
      • C.B. Anderson

        Which one, Russel? Margaret is very observant.

      • Russel Winick

        C.B. – I was referring to Margaret’s last sentence in her comment to you, but you raise a good point. I second everything that Margaret observes!

    • C.B. Anderson

      We have the same bird in mind, Margaret, and I saw them in Arizona exactly as I described. I kept them off the pond I managed in Massachusetts by stringing monofiliment fishing line to crisscross the pond’s surface. You would have laughed to see how quickly they adjusted when their beating wings met an invisible impediment. And, yes, if only …

      Reply
  7. Adam Sedia

    “Sidetracked” is an apt description of what it means to be alive. It’s not necessarily confined to older readers, either. All of us have had our shares of bumps, scrapes, and aches through our lives, and you show us how to accept them.

    “Words from the Birds” is something else entirely. Aside from its jocosely rhyming title, it does a good job of giving voice to the frustration many, if not most, of us feel about what is happening in our national capital. I also enjoy how you close with a play on the idiom “snowbird.”

    Reply
    • C.B. Anderson

      If I have shown you that, Adam, then how come I have not accepted them myself? I guess water seeks its own level, and, come November, let us pray that there will come a great leveling.

      Reply
  8. Brian A. Yapko

    As always, C.B., these are poems of enormous wit, skill and utterly unique points of view.

    Sidetracked is fascinating. In fact, my first reading of it lulled me into thinking it was only a poem about the vicissitudes of growing older. But I’ve read it probably five times now and, although my interpretation may utterly contort your intent, I see this poem as a character study of a speaker who is NOT you (although not dissimilar in age and erudition) whose litany of physical woes seem to be so materially grounded as to sabotage the possibility of spiritual interpretation or solace. As a materialist, the speaker does not necessarily snub religion, but neither does he embrace it. That he does not mention Jesus by name (“we’ve heard of some…”) strikes me not as a slight but as the thoughtless irreverence of the casual agnostic. In short, you’ve created a character who is so invested in the physical world – including his own body — that he is handicapped from making any kind of leap of faith. I can’t tell you how many people I’ve known like this through the years. Covid only made it worse.

    Your political poem about the Blue herons who never tell the truth (I wonder what party they belong to?) is delightfully snarky. It is written in the cleverest of couplets which sing and sting on the page. “Elected liars” indeed. Your reference to the Everglades is particularly felicitous. Here in the free state of Florida there’s a better than average chance your elected officials will tell the truth. Come down and see!

    Reply
    • C.B. Anderson

      Not only Jesus, Brian, but anyone on the path to sainthood — not something I would care to undertake. And I get a lot of news about Florida from David Rubin. Also, my son lives there now, is working and doing well as a personal trainer. and loves it there.

      Reply

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