Tribal Survival

This story in the San Francisco Chronicle inspired the poem below:

http://projects.sfchronicle.com/2016/living-with-aids/story/

Tribal Survival
3 March 2016

A part of me wanted to shed a tear,
But my well of feeling was so deep
It felt more like mourning’s nadir.
Profound feelings managed to seep
To the depths of my weary soul.
I was reading stories of long-term
Survivors of the hiv and AIDS  toll.
They coped while others became infirm,
And tended them until they expired.
The survivors living on to become
Victims themselves, overwhelmed and tired.
In some cases getting to be scum,
Too sick to work, but too healthy to perish;
Ending up in medical and financial limbo.
In an effort to avoid more nightmarish
Emotional trauma, they isolated in woe.
Still living and struggling to adjust,
In trying to keep it all together,
Some days it’s been a case of just
Putting one foot in front of the other.
But it’s not over until the fat lady sings.
Disappointment, joy, loss, love, despair,
Boredom, hope and gratefulness are fillings
For their individual stories of life’s scare.
In a few cases older men have connected.
Ultimately, who will be the last man standing;
The last man to tell his tale, respected
For enduring to the final disbanding?

Swooner For Crooner

Swooner For Crooner 
12 March 2012
Dedicated to Engelbert Humperdink, Roger Whittaker and etc.

Listening to the songs without a toll
On the radio, the balladeer belts out
As his voice vibrates into my soul,
Thru closed eyes a tear melts out.

For a few precious minutes
Life slows to a pause
Then quickens when in struts
The singer who overawes.

The voice makes me feel deep down
Like I haven't in a long time.
It takes me back to my hometown
When all the songs had rhyme.

In my mind I'm young once more.
Listening to music from the past
With an orchestration score
Gives me feelings I want to last.