A KATYN SYMPHONY
For Olivia
The muffled moans
Of sawdust filled mouths
The sharp crack of the pistols
The thud of bodies landing
The eternal screams of the NKVD men
In the fires of Hell
You have entered this labyrinth
As a young woman, unafraid
Though with 27,000 reasons to be afraid
For you are defending all those Polish Souls
At great risk
Even though you may think not
Can you call on God to defend you?
You seem so innocent
But wise beyond years
One hopes God defends you
Provides the zlotys
For your bread and paper
To turn libraries on both sides of the borders
Upside down
So no secret will be withheld from you
You will give comfort
To the families
Following the rules in Ephesians Chapter 6
Most particularly; truth
I tried to do the best I could
Blind and deaf
But with my mouth wide open
In a faulty language
But you are blessed with language, youth and spirit
At the end of this Symphony you are composing
Kendall Merriam, Home,
4/5/13 8:55 PM
After listening to a rehearsal of
Philip Glass’s
Symphony No. 8
AN OPEN LETTER TO VLADIMIR PUTIN
Putin:
Are you killing poets yet? Or are
you sticking to reporters for the
time being?
When are you
and the Duma
going to pay compensation to the
Katyn families and all the other
Poles that Stalin swept East after
The invasion of Poland on
September 17, 1939?
Certainly the
money you are
wasting (over $16,000,000,000.00)
on the Olympics for over-drugged
athletes would make a small start
on the enormous debt your country
owes Poland.
In the 1990’s
I thought Russia
might have a chance to redeem her-
self, but here you are going on to
ruin that opportunity. The world is a
sadder and more evil place because of
you. Let us hope God intervenes and
makes life good for Russia and all
And that you pay the debt that Russia
owes Poland.
Kendall A. Merriam
Ist Published 29 July 2009 in The Post Eagle,
Clifton, New Jersey USA
CHANTEUSE
Ah! Another Rockland native
So unusual
Sweet, sensual voice
Piano, drums punctuate the voice
I wonder if you have traveled
Far from Heaven—spending years
In the desert, the mountaintop
I loved growing here
In the South End
Did not meet my lover
Until far Route 128
Now fifty years later
Back to Rockland which she loves
Better than most women would
Your music fills crannies
Of an aching heart
From which we all suffer
From time-to-time
I imagine musicians make little
More than poets
The duty to create
Drives us on without ceasing
As long as we have keys, paper
On which to compose
Exposing our hearts to everyone
No matter how close to madness
No matter the cost
Life next to salt water
Is sweet—reflecting our birth
Against granite and shale
Of this very harbor
Which draws people
From across the Universe
One may not guess this
From outward appearances
But here in the tiny Greenwich Village
Musicians rule
Giving breath to our innocence
Kendall Merriam, Rock City Café’
11May 2012 7:21 PM
Listening to “Ripple Effect” live.
FIVE HAIKU FOR LINWOOD AYLWARD
He
liked working at Thompson’s Inn
The
food was Maine sublime
And
the maids from NYC were also
****
He
worked so hard
On
the farm and the route
But
said gently that he had to make a living
For
his family and himself
****
He
had the ultimate house
On
the shore of Ash Point
Almost
all of it he built himself
****
At
Four O’Clock a glass of Taylor’s
Which
he shared with visitors
Much
to everyone’s enjoyment
****
He
was a lovely man
Traveling
with Dot to foreign shores
And
reading of them in James Michener
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