Aging

Getting rather old,
Hot blood turning cold,
Just around the bend,
There may lurk the end,
Like the poet's
Unfinished rhyme,
Never, ever enough time...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Speculation

Hard-wired into my DNA,
Within the smithy of my soul,
Where intellect commands
My fragile, mortal clay,
There rules a common mind,
A universal consciousness,
Those forces which mankind
Invariably together bind,
Endowing our great human race,
With unity of purpose, common goals,
A sense of caring, love and grace...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Election Blues

Give a cheer, give a cheer,
The election is here,
I'll walk into the booth,
Look at the slate,
Turn around,
And curse such a fate,
Relieve myself,
Pull the stick and flush,
And the next chap 'll walk in,
And say: "Gosh, oh my gosh."

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

everyone...

everyone running -
not knowing whereto...
everyone talking -
not knowing what...
everyone hoping -
not knowing whatfor...
everyone living -
not knowing why...
everyone dying -
not knowing when...

alfred charasz
copyright 2005 alfred charasz

The Artist

White heat burning
the very essence of his being,
with a searing touch
of an intensity of consciousness,
in the middle of a gray, lethargic world,
he perceives the vividness
of color, truth and beauty,
and though often the pain is intense,
so is the pleasure and the joy,
and in a murky sea of drabness,
he feels at the pinnacle of existence,
fully alive, grasping, feeling,
consuming and being consumed....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

New York - Vienna

Queen city on the Danube,
Place of my perished youthful dreams,
For more years than I care to remember
Has my imagination painted vivid pictures
Of my old home, quietly longed for,
Upstream, like a salmon
Have I returned to you,
To find my illusions shattered,
To see an old empty city,
Lacking vitality and life,
Sans color, meaningless, superficial,
Living only in past glory,
And after I returned home,
In the quiet of my garden,
Fragrant with flowers,
Listening to the delicious sounds
Of the cicadas,
After spending my day
In that magnificent Athens
Of our time - New York,
I stealthily looked around,
So that no one should see me,
And I kissed the precious ground
With burning, grateful lips.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Birth Control and Little Brother

"Daughter Jill, my pussy cat,
lately you look sort of fat,
in the strangest pearshape way,
have you been, perchance, at play?"
"Mother dear, I had my fill,
but I always took the pill,
often was I somewhat wild,
and right now I am with child,
on some quite unhappy date,
I did too much copulate."
"Daughter dear, this just won't do,
if you're pregant we will sue,
took the pills without effect,
and the drug-man 'll pay the check."
If the ladies only knew,
to whom this mistake was due,
little brother is the fiend,
in his eyes there is a gleam,
changed Jill's pills for aspirin,
he's a kid not bad or wild,
he's just a precocious child.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

My Home

My home lies
on a flightpath to eternity,
a transitory haven,
a point through which
I pass but once,
unique in time and space,
a, hopefully,
most pleasant interlude,
- ere I pass on...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

To a Soldier - Israel 1948

The desert was hot,
the heat was intense,
and as far as the eye could see,
there was no beginning,
there was no end,
there was just the desert and me,
my life was slowly ebbing,
and torture was in my soul,
and many dead were around me,
but the enemy was gone,
and gone was all the life,
and all there ever was,
in our home in the Negev,
the village of Samarach,
and suddenly there were voices,
I've never heard before,
so wondrous, melodious and soft,
it must be a holy score,
they are the angels who sing
of the glory of our land,
and a voice above them thundered,
"Shemah Israel to the end,
keep fighting, hoping, winning,
your land shall soon be free,
I am thy Lord, thy Keeper,
I'll guide you to victory",
and eternally shone the heavens,
and peace came to my soul,
as I left the earth behind me,
to enter my heavenly goal...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Hopefully

Within your eyes,
Those windows
Of your soul,
Two deep pools
Of yearning do I see,
Pray, tell me dearest,
Hopefully,
Perchance for me?

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Black Holes and the Big Bang

At the center of the black hole
lies the singularity,
a point as small as an atom,
containing a thousand suns
in its tiny point,
and our entire universe
was born from an atom,
exploding and still expanding,
events far, far beyond
our poor philosophies
on gods, religion,
mysticism or science,
but just to have an inkling
about this incomprehensible
grand scheme of things,
is progress of a sort...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Love Poem

The windows of your eyes,
Though dark as coal,
Reflect your very soul,
And in your fine, devoted mind,
I always do my refuge find,
You are my haven
On the stormy sea of life,
The anchor for my heart,
My dear, beloved wife...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Politicians

Those masters of redundant platitudes,
create delusions to change attitudes,
make any promises to be selected,
break them , and fleece the public funds,
the very minute, they're elected,
all promises forgotten or neglected,
ah yes, those wily politicians
charm the public with seduction,
but quietly, they bleed the voters dry,
through fraud and general corruption,
they are the ones who really know,
where taxes into kickbacks go.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

In Iraq

The canopy of stars
Shines ever so bright,
But still and ominous
Is my restless night,
For into battle I must go,
By dawn's early light.
Perchance in Iraq's
Desert I will lie,
And stare with broken eye
At an empty sky,
And never know
The reason why.

They found him the next morn,
His body broken, twisted, torn,
With empty, lifeless eyes,
Staring up at gray skies.
Frankly, they say
He died on Iraq's soil,
Not for his country,
But for the profits on the oil.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

My Delight

My delight is the exquisite,
That perfection of beauty,
Which occasionally touches us,
Unexpectedly.......

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Hypothesis

First man looked to the answer to the stars, puzzled,
conversely did he turn towards the smallest part,
and thought the final answer atoms would provide,
discovered, sadly, that it only was the riddle's start,
nucleons, protons and mesons did he find,
spaces within the electrons huge distances apart,
of measured particles of undetermined kind,
supposedly more powerful than any found before,
cohesion greater than those which the atoms bind,
he found himself again before a closing door,
't is strange how microcosm and macrocosm
are both so very much aike,
like boxes within boxes in infinite progression
they do imagination strike,
for there are worlds within this world,
and our universe, so awesomely respected,
might in some greater world unfurled,
just as a maggot's tiniest part then be detected,
though this does not lift human pride,
the fact that mortal man this comprehends,
that our minds do through the heavens stride,
lends to our petty lives the sense.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Existentialism

We are like people in a rudderless boat,
Tossed by the winds of chance
Upon an infinite ocean,
Called the universe,
To whose blind, unfeeling nature
Our existence is absolutely meaningless,
Which judges us not and cares not,
But has all of us condemned, irrecocably,
The prince and the pauper alike - to death.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Liberal - A Dirty Word?

The hopes and dreams
Of freedom and democracy, I cherish,
Let our liberal way of life
And individual liberty not perish,
For under our present leadership,
It has now frequently occurred
That 'liberal' became a dirty word,
Coined by the robber barons
Of a new semi-fascist world,
Who never serve, sweat or toil,
But make their profits on the oil,
While politicians and the holy rollers
Use the phrase 'values' as a foil.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Apres Moi, Le Deluge....

On the edge of the volcano,
Looking into the abyss of pollution,
Overcrowded, overdrugged, demoralized,
We live as if there is no tomorrow...
And you know something?
There isn't any.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Mark Twain

Spin old yarns,
Full of homely gusto,
Casually revealing,
In a folksy way,
The powers
Which move the universe,
The truth-beauty syndrome
Which only a privileged few
Ever glance, occasionally,
Yet, all humanity strives for.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Last Flower

When winter's iron fist
Touches the last flower's vivid bloom,
Condemns it to oblivion
With its icy touch,
And wilted fall its petals
To the freezing ground,
Till naught is left,
The sky,
The gentle whispering breeze,
And God himself
Will still remember
That so sacred spot,
Where once a part
Of beauty lived....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Tiger

There, in the wilderness
I saw the tiger,
With his piercing, yellow eyes,
And in my fear, I asked
The elusive spirit of the good,
Or anyone, who would listen,
For protection,
But the animals in the jungle
Laughed at my naivete,
For they knew that I was lost,
They knew that I believed,
And the tiger did not,
I, lost in a world
Where believers
Are not the survivors.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Our Leadership

The world within
Reflects in the society
Which we create,
Healthy vitality
Or decadence,
Spiritual bankruptcy
Or idealistic dreams,
Pervasive hopes,
Or a degenerate despair,
Corruption or morality,
And thus, the very quality
Of our lives
Gives us the leadership
Wich we deserve.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright Alfred Charasz

Visit to India

...quiet mysticism
of mixed sources,
dark and white,
shaded ever so finely,
deep brown eyes,
melancholy, all-knowing,
transcendental,
wisdom,
self-contained, deep,
starvation, squalor,
yet, undescribable beauty,
contrasts, to warm a poet's heart,
an affirmation of the thought
that God and the devil
have the same face...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Carpe Diem

Today is but the first expectant day,
The first day of the rest of life's brief stay,
A time to fully drain the cup without delay,
For on the razor's edge lies our way,
Tonight we might come to that final bend,
And in some quiet moment face the end,
So treasure every precious moment, friend.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Circus

The forced smile of the clown,
Music - tinny, metallic,
Freaks, demonstrating their despair,
- laughingly,
Wild animals, born free
- caged,
A dark abyss
Beneath a thin veneer of pretense,
- the world in miniature...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Art

Out of an intensity of feelings,
Mixed with a touch of madness,
Spiced with a mixture
Of despair and hope,
Out of the strange angles
Of intuitive understanding,
Grasping essence
In the vivid light
Of an abstract reality,
Out of all this,
Art is born.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Jets

Silver streaked motion sears across the sky,
those soaring, flaming raptures filled with pride,
like gods of thunder, all powerful, up high,
they through the firmament like unreal visions glide.

The pilots feel their strength in every throbbing vein,
having within their hands the choice of life and death,
holding their flying messengers of fate well in their reign, while far removed, below, they havoc
and destruction spread.

The little mushroom clouds look pretty from the sky,
mission accomplished, crews return with spirits high,
if they could only see up close the agony, the plight,
they would in shame just hang their heads and cry.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Population Explosion

The dark shadows of the Malthusian prediction
are growing with an ominous intensity,
the specter of starved masses
on shrinking land,
struggling for living space,
amidst a chocking density,
while pious souls,
misguided by some men in black,
their collars starched,
as are their dated dreams,
oblivious to the spectacle
of hungry masses' desperate screams,
follow their own narrow
and unenlightened path,
't is bad enough that they do thus,
condemn their own,
the question I do ask of them:
Why us? Why us?

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Mother's Lament

Out of my womb,
Throughout eternities of pain,
Out of hope and promise of life,
There lies, what might have been,
Perfectly formed and beautiful,
Ready to taste the ecstasy of life,
Yet strangely quiet, lacking breath,
My hope, my shattered world,
My dead, dead child.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Doctor of Philosophy

The little ants all scurry
To get to the top of the pile
In a hurry,
They twist, they turn,
They never tarry,
They sit and they stew
And practice semantics,
To reach Ph. D's,
They engage day and night
In ridiculous rantings,
And torture small minds
In absolute frantics,
While the big cheese, up high,
Laughs like hell
At their antics.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Life's Change?

My whole life
was about to change,
when the love of my life
entered my range,
I looked and just knew
that no one else
would ever, ever do,
it was love at first sight,
and we decided to bed
the very first night,
but with passions aroused,
and quite a bit soused,
in shock, I almost died,
when the love of my life,
my shining bright light,
unveiled itself,
that very same night,
as the wrong sex,
a transvestite...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Love is...

Let me not
To the marriage
Of true minds
Admit impediments,
Love is not love
Which falters
When it separation finds,
It is an ever present force
Which permanently binds,
In life-long company,
Through all the ups and downs
Of joys and misery...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Men are...

That men are below par,
Just life-long underlings,
Is not due
To some unlucky star,
Nay, it's lack of inborn
Talent and ability,
Which is responsible
For their debility.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Blind Poet

When I consider,
How the Lord,
In his great might,
Ordained for me,
To be deprived of sight,
And face the life-long torment
Of an eternal night,
My searching soul and mind
To poetry takes flight,
Finding my compensation
In an inner shining light,
To purge my soul,
And stay the darkness
Of my blight....

When at my mortal end,
They'll ask me
At that pearly gate:
'Has fate shaken your faith?'
'No way', I'd say,
'They also serve
Who stand and wait.'

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Neurotic

Mornings he's in heaven,
Evenings he's in hell,
It seems, he is not well,
They told him he's neurotic,
Assured him, he's quite lucky,
He could have been psychotic.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Glitter Days

Where are they now,
Those halcyon days,
Of wine and honey,
Of easy girls
And easy money,
When I was young,
My life so sunny,
Those glitter days
Are now all gone,
But my sweet memories
Still linger on and on.....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Auschwitz in Winter

In a peaceful landscape,
Whitened with snow,
Where night and day
The crematorium ovens glow,
Smoke rising up high in the sky,
Of millions destined there to die,
Odor of burning flesh to linger on,
Long after their poor souls are gone,
And when this world did hear the news,
They shrugged their shoulders, saying:
Most of them were only Jews......

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

My Gods are of a Different Hue

Little I care for the divinities of men,
Those hollow gods,
Standing on shallow ground,
Those man-made graven images,
To which men pray,
Seducing them to serve their petty cause,
Their wars and little grievances,
They ask them to espouse.

If gods be bought
With flattery like this,
Cheap to secure,
They are no gods,
But less than men,
Of this you can be sure.

The power which did shape this universe,
Which circumscribes the path of sun and moon,
Lends us this mortal breath of life,
Incomprehensible and infinite,
Is far removed from our petty strife.

There is a scheme of things,
Which serves its own and hidden ends,
A claim to grasp its ultimate reality,
Would for mere mortal men
Be blasphemous pretense.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

The Candidates

They smile, cajole, affect a toothy grin,
Shake hands, make promises, stick out their chin,
Kiss filthy babies with abandon and delight,
Secretly gargle disinfectants after such a blight,
In fields of corn they stand behind an oxen team,
While on the side they quickly take an antihistamine,
They pledge to farmers subsidies,
To businessmen a profit's increase,
To union labor wages for no work at all,
Promise to short men that they'll make them tall,
Give pensions, welfare, benefits galore,
Accompanied by tax decreases by the score,
They promise whites that they'll curb blacks,
And vow to blacks they'll check white cats,
To doves they gently promise peace,
To hawks they promise war's increase,
Oh yes, these ordinary men,
Will do for power what they can,
For good men are too dear for jobs like these,
Such work requires mediocre expertise.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Free Tuition

The flower of good minds does also in the desert grow,
And has a chance to bloom and to unfold,
If someone minds enough it tender care to show,
For else it withers, beauty never to be seen,
Consigned to the so sadest place of all,
The tragic place of 'might have been',
Drab flowers, nourished in good soil on some estate,
Despite all love and care, no beauty do display,
Do often not enhance the value of the democratic state,
While brilliant flowers, undernourished, waste away,
This thought to 'moral' politicians' I would advocate,
To so-called 'compassionate' Republicans would recommend,
If they to moneyed candidates only would open college gates,
And bring the concept of free college to an end.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

The Source

You bore me and you nourished me,
You gave me life,
That alternating adventure
Of joy and suffering,
You made me,
Yet, you will destroy me
And reshape me
Over and over again
Till the end of time,
You stunt me
Like the Japanese gardeners
Stunt their trees,
Yet, you put the whole universe
Into my consciousness,
And make me like a god or a devil,
I laud you and I curse you,
You impenetrable mystery of creation,
You dichotomy of concepts,
Yet, both really my source,
My earth - my mother.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Socrates, Sophists and Riots

The question in my mind does thus arise,
As once the Greeks debated on the same old theme,
Should we to social justice sacrifice,
The lawful order which we diligently did attain?
Or is our justice less important than the civil rights,
And we must tolerate fear, murder, riots in our streets?
I think I'll travel back in time
And seek advice from the old Greeks.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

First Love

"Pretty Polly, pretty Polly
Won't you dance with me,
When moonbeams flicker
'neath the mulberry tree,
Pretty Polly, pretty Polly
Won't you marry me
In the grapevined house
Where you promised me,
We'll nestle together
On top of a tree,
Full of love and passion,
Just you and me",
But that stupid parrot
Answered:
"Never be, never be."

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Married Blitz

With anxious, pounding heart,
He waited for the morn,
And when he rose,
He felt so tired and forlorn,
His hopes were slight,
His expectations - scorn,
When she said yes,
He felt reborn,
Filled with delight,
His world so bright.

All this did happen
Twenty years ago,
I know his wife,
We both agree,
My friend and I,
In retrospect,
It was a horrid blow,
What happy life
He would have led
Had she said no.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

The Sages

The sages had foretold this day,
In their inimitable way,
When through the avarice of men,
The world will end, they knew just when.

On other planets, far removed, they'll watch,
And say, someone down there has struck a match,
But we know all about this conflagration,
How it was done is quite a revelation.

't was done by man, they say,
Master of innovation,
His last one, the atomic bomb,
Was a superb sensation.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Revolution

The flaming torch of protest,
So eloquent and yet so horrible,
Reminds us that this quality of freedom
Has greater urgency than life itself,
Its beacon burns into the despot's eye,
And in the darkness of despair,
It adds validity to man's estate.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Lest we Forget...

Never, ever forget,
Those honored dead,
Murdered in Nazi camps,
With fire, gas and lead,
For if six million died in vain,
Future generations, one day,
Will face a holocaust again,
Yes, always remember our sorrow,
Lest a new genocide
Will haunt us on some morrow...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Nostalgia

Wish, I could see the world again,
With child's eyes - good and pure,
Wish, I could love and trust again,
With soul and mind - so true,
I'd walk through quiet meadows,
And pluck sweet flowers there,
Or slumber in green pastures,
Relieved of every care.

Alas, the flower 's wilted,
And yellowed is the page,
And faded hopes are tilted,
My soul lives in a cage.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

They Yearn to Learn

A great teacher came into the class,
A man humble and self-effaced,
Who knew and loved his classics well,
Well-versed in poetry he was,
Many philosophies of old he traced,
Unraveled to us mysteries, long past,
On ancient thoughts,
Pertinent questions did he ask,
He was a man who loved his task.

Many just stared at him,
Disintersted and cold,
We need degrees,
What do we care
About these tales of old.

In times of computers,
Sadly, in him the thought did grow,
Where did Apollo go,
Have you looked for him,
Do you know?

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

The Maze

We walk through this labyrinth called life,
This glad-sad many-mirrored maze,
Past its reflections
Of the thousand faces of reality we strife,
Upon the ever changing images
Of ourselves and our world we gaze.

Kaleidoscopic visions of our own diversity we see,
Some mirrors show us what we really are,
Others project us as we want to be,
To reconcile the two along the way,
And find our own true self,
Discover purpose, meaning in this mortal clay,
Is our fated ever present task,
As long as life's brief candle
Does the darkness stay.

The tragedy of men lies in the fact,
That after trial and error we do wisdom gain,
And our own true nature well understand,
Knowledge what this sweet bitter life
Is all about obtain,
That then the journey
Through the maze is at an end,
All our perfections in a grave contained.
The purpose of this irony
Only immortal gods can comprehend.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Finis

Despite uncertain vagaries of life,
Tension, unhappiness and strife,
Watch for the light around the bend,
Treasure each precious moment - friend,
For soon, on silent, cat-like feet,
Inevitable, merciless,
Will come oblivion - and the end.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Mirror Image

The facets of your mind
Reflect my thoughts
In perfect harmony,
And through the mirror
Of your eyes,
With sudden insight,
I perceive my soul...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Pollution

Man's world will end,
Not with a flaming crash,
Or cataclysm,
But with the muffled sound
Of sighs for all
That might have been...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

To my Friend - Otto

Through the horrors
of the Nazi Holocaust we passed,
- the lucky ten percent,
through years of drudgery
we stood steadfast,
going our separate ways,
- the lucky ten percent,
the blows of fate striking us
in many ways,
- and yet,
we were the lucky ten percent,
dreaming of worlds - unfulfilled,
of selves - never accomplished,
- and yet,
we were the lucky ten percent,
and sometimes your spirit was low,
and sometimes mine,
but yet, nothing could faze us,
for we knew,
that every breath we took
- was a present,
every flower we saw
- a treasure,
every moment of life - holy,
a gift of Jehovah
to the remnants of his people,
- the Holocaust survivors.....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Buzzards

Hark, you buzzards of destruction,
Pirates of the heathen skies,
Slyly perching on my shoulder,
Telling me eternal lies,
Incarnated by the devil
And a thousand human sighs,
Telling me that life 's a desert,
And all things are false, untrue,
And all goodness is illusion,
Each man struggling for his due,
Fighting, burning, killing, suffering,
To surrender in the end,
Cursing gods and loving devils
In the darkness that is hell,
All your reasoning can't convince me,
Matters not what you may tell,
Found in deserts the oasis,
And I love this world too well,
Saw the morning sun arising,
Promising a fine new day,
And defied all hell quite boldly,
For a smile that came my way,
No man ever is an island,
To himself and to all men,
Part we all are of each other,
And each soul which passes onward,
Will diminish me and them,
Therein lies the truth eternal,
In it man may find his light,
Cast aside all things infernal,
Know the bad but love the right,
Understand all motivation,
Try to comprehend each soul,
And the buzzards then shall perish,
With their miseries unnamed,
And but goodness shall be cherished,
Till the heavens stop achurning,
On the final judgment date,
And the Lord calls mankind forward,
To be judged in godlike ways,
And the galaxies stop burning,
While humanity arrays...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

My Love

Two deep pools of yeearning
Are the eyes of my love,
In them I find my peace,
And that quiet contentment,
The shelter from the vagaries
Of a cruel world....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

MANHATTAN

Sun-kissed tall spires,
Reaching for the sky,
A million widows,
Curious, searching eyes,
Baring the soul of the city,
Where the drummer
Beats out the rhythms
Of a million hopes
And aspirations,
In that place of no limits,
Where all systems say "GO",
- MANHATTAN -
The symbol of the heroic in man!

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Child in Auschwitz

The fear, the fear,
It touches me
Like a bottomless pit,
An unending well,
In its waters I see
A reflection of myself,
And if I let go
Of the thin thread
Which binds me,
My self, my ego, my reality,
I will tumble into the deep,
Towards my own reflection,
Into that heaven or hell
Which is my oblivion...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Her Last Trip

She dreamt of gallant knights,
The moon, the stars, heaven above,
Her drab life never was enough,
But one day she explored
The river - down the bend,
And on this chancy trip,
Her life came to its end,
Her dreamt of gallant knight
Looked at her twice,
And casually commented,
'Too bad - she looked quite nice'...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

My Gods Are Of Of A Different Hue

Little I care for the divinities of men,
Their hollow gods,
Standing on shallow ground,
Those man-made graven images,
To which men pray,
Seducing them to serve their petty cause,
Their wars and little grievances,
They ask them to espouse.

If gods be bought
With flattery like this,
Cheap to secure,
They are no gods,
But less than men,
Of this you can be sure.

The power that did shape this universe,
Which circumscribes the path of sun and moon,
Lends us this mortal breath of life,
Incomprehensible and infinite,
Is far removed from our petty strife.

There is a scheme of things,
Which serves its own and hidden ends,
A claim to grasp its ultimate reality,
Would for mere mortal men,
Be blasphemous pretense.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Suicide Bombers

Some imams exert
a seductive illusion,
with control of the masses
a sought for conclusion,
promoting gods,
heavens, 'morality',
turning their followers
into religion's fatality....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

The Aftermath

There is a silence in my home,
I sit and stare at walls - alone,
The center of my life,
My love - is gone,
Murdered by savages
With hearts of stone,
My sweet and gentle flower,
Turned into ashes
In Manhattan's gleaming tower,
There are no tears
Left in my eyes to shed,
The best I ever knew,
My dearest one - is dead....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

The Towers

The gleaming towers,
reflecting sunlight
are no more,
it's not the same world,
as it was before,
the enemy is here,
he passed our door,
the savage anarchist
of a darker past
has come to our shore
- at last,
let us not go
into eternal night,
if we're not to perish,
let us fight,
we won't accept such ravages
from those fanatic savages,
we have the weapons and the force
to heap destruction on those devils
- at their source,
the sleeping giant
of the West is now awake,
those Arab terrorists
made a mistake.....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Scotsman

A handsome young Scotsman named John J. Mc Gill
Walked down a country lane dressed in his kilt,
He had walked a long time over hills rough and steep,
When he found a shady nook to lay down in to sleep,
Two maidens passed the spot and saw John J. Mc Gill,
And gleefully wondered what lay under his kilt,
They lifted it up and yelled 'goody, goody,
Look and behold his beautiful woody'.
They put a blue ribbon on it with a neat bow,
Took one last look and said 'we better go'.
The Scotsman awoke and looked at his dicky,
And said, 'oh god, you look neat and quite tricky,
Don't know where you've been or what you've done,
While I was sleeping, you must have been gone,
But I do think that it's really quite nice,
That you came home with such a beautiful price'.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Hungarian Gypsies - 1935

At the village end,
On a flowery field,
The gypsy wagons stand,
And on quiet, moonlit nights
Music drifts down from their camp,
Haunting notes from their gypsy band,
Melodies from a people apart,
Plaintive, sweet and melancholy,
They do break my heart.

They were burned in the ovens
At Auschwitz one day,
But on quiet, moonlit nights,
I still hear my gypsies play....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

My Grandfather's Fiddle

Well do I remember
My grandfather and his fiddle,
A Jewish soul set to music,
Happy, sometimes plaintive and sad,
Painting my childhood
With the vivid colors
Of a treasured memory,
The quickening shadows of the years
Have scattered us all over the globe,
Some of his little ones,
Dead in the camp of Auschwitz,
Or, heaven knows, where else,
But up there he watches us,
The remnants of our family,
And in my dreams,
I still hold on to his coattails,
And in some empty, cold moments,
I close my eyes and hear his fiddle,
And then, all is well with the world....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Arab Lands

Child in rags,
Leading the blind beggar,
Veiled women,
Eye-slits burning
With furtive agony,
Pleading for baksheesh
Or peddling pitiful wares,
Poverty and despair
Screaming in bright colors,
Palm trees, azure skies,
Land of dreamy beauty,
Peopled by the squalid,
Oasis of hope,
Dried up and buried
In the dunes of despair,
Land of snake charmers,
Water carriers,
And a million beggars,
Where feudalism rules
And time stands still.....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Temple of the Golden Dome

Last night,
With cold and winter
In my heart,
And slush under my feet,
I suddenly closed my eyes,
To see a sky and sea
Of indigo blue,
Blending into the kaleidoscope
Of palm trees and gardens,
Warm fragrance of the Mediterranean,
White buildings reflecting the sun,
The sounds of the ancient songs
Of my people all around me,
A luxuriant euphoria overtaking me,
While the golden Bahai dome of Haifa
Beckons me, beckons me.....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Our Town - 2005

I live in the yellow city,
Within the hub of civilization,
In the declining Athens
Of the Western World,
Where the empire
Of the setting sun
Fades back into the jungle,
In order to be reborn
In some other time,
In some other place....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

World - Illusion, Idea?

Could it, perchance, be
That the old Indian dream
That life is but illusion is right?
How strange that modern physics,
Quantum mechanics,
String theories,
The latest observations
Have developed the idea
That in this huge
And almost empty space,
We call the Universe,
The smallest particles
Contained within the atom
Are only rhythmic waves
Of electro-magnetic manifestations,
Events and nothing else,
But cycles of energy in time.
Perhaps Berkeley was right,
That all existence is but idea,
Perception - nothing else.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

The Goldsmith

Like a fossil, a relic of a long past time,
I ply my trade in tedious ways,
Create my precious jewels, lovingly and fine,
While automation slowly does my trade erase,
Yet, till my last breath will I battle the machine,
For the conformity and artlessness of modern times,
I simply do not have the spleen.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

My Gods are of a Different Hue

Little I care for the divinities of men,
Those hollow gods,
Standing on shallow ground,
Those man-made graven images,
To which men pray,
Seducing them
To serve their petty cause,
Their wars and little gievances
They ask them to espouse.

If gods be bought
With flattery like this,
Cheap to secure,
They are no gods,
But less than men,
Of this you can be sure.

The power which did shape this universe,
Which circumscribes the path of sun and moon,
Lends us this mortal breath of life,
Incomprehensible to men and infinite,
Is far removed from our petty strife.

There is a scheme of things,
Which serves its own and hidden ends,
A claim to grasp its ultimate reality,
Would for mere mortal men
Be blasphemous pretense.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

2005

Mother, God and apple pie
Have gone down the drain,
Gone, the quiet, peaceful walks
On a country lane,
Villages, which sleep all day,
Lazy in the sun,
All the silent happiness
Suddenly is gone,
Noise, pollution is the game,
Big computers counting you,
And a number is your name,
Cattle cars take you to work,
Big Brother is watching you,
Non-conformists have a quirk,
Quickly disassemble them
And remodel them again
Into robots which say "yes",
Gad, is this a holy mess.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

2005

Mother, God and apple pie
Have gone down the drain,
Gone, the quiet, peaceful walks
On a country lane,
Villages, which sleep all day,
Lazy in the sun,
All the silent happiness
Suddenly is gone,
Noise, pollution is the game,
Big computers counting you,
And a number is your name,
Cattle cars take you to work,
Big Brother is watching you,
Non-conformists have a quirk,
Quickly disassemble them
And remodel them again
Into robots which say "yes",
Gad, is this a holy mess.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Riots

The alienated man has risen in the land,
Demands his place and lifts a desperate hand,
And casts a long, black shadow which we fear,
Hate in his heart - but in his eyes a tear,
The brotherhood he sought, he could not find,
And to his agonized cries we're deaf and blind.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Conformity

Amidst the masses buried in conformity,
I fight the losing battle of the self,
My soul is being standardized,
My individuality is on the shelf.

Alfred Charasz
Coyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

To my Daughter

On a Sunday afternoon
in my garden,
'neath the old apple tree,
which I planted,
my daughter and I sit,
rocking in our garden chairs,
we spin little yarns,
fresh and hopeful,
spring breeze, full of expectations,
and nature 's greening everywhere,
everything around us is so full of vigor
of blooming and growth,
my daughter's voice,
gentle, ever so gentle,
long lashes, old Semitic eyes,
warm, all-knowing,
the ancient eyes of my people
in a youthful, fresh face,
telling me,
on a Sunday afternoon
in my garden,
that all is well with the world....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

To my Son

There comes a day
When childhood's wraps
Are cast aside,
And old religious norms
Proclaim and give you
Manhood's right,
But take it gently, son,
It's never born too light,
Your new-found strength
Will certainly appeal,
But burdens you never knew
Will soon become quite real,
Yet, you must cope with them
And do the best you can,
To squarely face the world,
My son - today you are a man.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

The Sages

The sages had foretold this day,
In their inimitable way,
When through the avarice of men,
The world will end, they knew just when.

On other planets, far removed, they'll watch,
And say - someone, down there, has lit a match,
But we know all about this conflagration,
How it was done is quite a revelation.

't was done by man, they say,
Master of innovation,
His last one, the atomic bomb,
Was a superb sensation.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

The Missiles

In secret silos do they stand,
Forbidding, filled with gloom,
To spell the chosen victims' end,
Those harbingers of doom.

The ultimate in birth control,
The vanity of nations they enhance,
Those messengers of winged death,
Released, perhaps, by chance.

They are like bells that toll the end,
Of all the hopes and dreams to be,
And deep within my anxious heart,
I wonder which one tolls for me.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Circular Infinity Theory

Within the curvature of time and space,
The nature of infinity is circular,
All events on the circle recurring,
On its periphery, at a given pace,
Over and over again,
In the very same previous place,
And so will every life, after its end,
Eons from now, come to the same spot,
Around the circle's bend,
Thus, when you reach that final door,
Trillions of years from now,
Your life will be repeated,
Precisely as before.....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Memory Traces

God, let this tired, worn-out flesh
Sink into merciful oblivion,
Let divinities, angels and heavens
Be a very welcome given,
And though my body be decayed and shriven,
My soul, my spirit and my mind
Are to some glorious afterlife or heaven driven,
Not, god forbid, not to a purgatory or some hell,
When fate ordains to leave my mortal shell,
But, sadly, do I come to the empirical conclusion,
That all this religious propaganda is but self-delusion,,
Yet, yet, the atoms in my body do go on and on,
They only dissipate to other forms, when I am gone,
Traces of memories what once was me,
May still remain in them, when I do cease to be.....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

Suicide Note - Crash 1929

There's nothing below,
Nothing above,
Lost it all,
Just had enough,
No way out,
So I jump off.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

What is a Life

What is a life,
A short adventure,
A struggle to survive,
You're born in pain,
You fight for gain,
And in the end,
It's all in vain,
You die in pain...

What is a life,
A short interlude
Of constant strife,
A lot of vanity,
A bit insanity,
Some god's inanity...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz

The Creative Mind

To explore the marvels of this world,
One needs a sense of wonder,
A dedicated passion,
Using a sharp, creative mind
In a previously unknown fashion.
Precious are these rare men,
Who new solutions find,
Those great creative thinkers,
Advancing all mankind...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz