Category Archives: Life

23 June 2014 – Humanity

I don’t care who you are

I don’t mind if you are conservative or liberal

nor if you are a communist or a fascist.

I don’t like that you might see this person or that person

as lesser than yourself

and am more saddened that your view of the world is so small.

Beyond all other possibilities we have seen

throughout history that narrow-mindness dies out

as it blinds the observer from pluarlity

and the ability to change when necessary.

I don’t care who you are

I don’t care what you think

I don’t care if you love me or hate me.

You could put the gun to my head

You could drag my name through the mud

You could desecrate all that I hold dear

and I would still have respect for you.

Why? How? Am I mad?

Perhaps to some I may seem unhinged.

My respect for you comes from something simple

derives from something beautiful

born from the sea-foam like Aphrodite

or out of the head of the divine like Athena.

It is sacrificial like Christ’s death

it seeks truth and wisdom like the Buddha

it sings out like the Adhan from the minaret.

It burns eternally like the fire of Zoroaster.

I respect you for one simple reason

I respect that name by which we are all called

I respect your humanity

Thus I respect you.

22 June 2014 – Sunday’s

The day of rest has come

the day of silent contemplation

mixed with the roar of F1 V6 turbos

and the odd restaurant visit for brunch or dinner.

The day of rest has come

happily we all sit back and enjoy what is left

of that marvellous institution devised

by our friends in the labour movement

that is called the weekend.

The day of rest has come

a day to spend time with family and friends

to not worry about the next day’s work

but only about this day’s leisure.

The day of rest has come

At long last, it is Sunday.

21 June 2014 – Kindness

Always be kind to others

no matter whom they may be to you.

Nothing matters – just be kind.

After all, wouldn’t you want the same for you?

20 June 2014 – Exiting

Rush hour in Kansas City

The 5.00pm Central headlines commence on NPR.

There I sit, in my car, waiting patiently, silently

not finding it hard to imagine that I’m back in Chicago

as I wait to exit 435 westbound onto State Line Road.

The left turn lanes move at a snail’s pace

as if the world is at a standstill.

The first green light is like a far away lightning bolt

to distant to make any impact.

The second green light comes five minutes later

its glimmering verdant glow lasting but a faint minute

until overcome by the urge to bleed red once more.

I edge closer to the halfway point on the ramp

halfway to the starting gate

the horsepower in my engine revving to go

the twenty cars in front of me impeding my path.

Third green light.

At last the miraculous verdant flaring is causing some good

its impact reaching my car, who has finally moved within jumping distance

of the intersection ahead.

A homeless man, seeking work walks alongside the cars.

Fourth green light.

At long last I let out a cry

of “Go, go, go!”

Through the intersection my car roars,

wanting to break free from the shackles of traffic

and back onto the open road

that runs along the Kansas-Missouri state line.

19 June 2014 – Triumph over Indiana

On a plane this past March

as I flew from DC to KC

I found myself fast asleep

for much of the first part of the trip.

As I slept my dreams turn’d away

from the thoughts of that past day

and into a vision of some great orchestra

a chorus behind, playing that fam’d

1812 Overture of Tchaikovsky’s making.

It roared in my head, filling the mind

as ever it could with sound

abounding throughout the inner ear.

Yet the noise woke me,

forc’d me to recognise my place.

And as I open’d my eyes,

the music came to a grand finale

as the orchestra had stopped

the men of the chorus continued

singing triumphantly their final refrain

the melody from God Save the Tsar

resounded in my ears from within

triumphantly welcoming me

to the skies over Indiana.

Never before has a dream

been so grandiose as to remain

in my memory for months thereafter

as that chorus on that cold March day.

15-21 June 2014 – “Les Roberts”

Les Roberts

There once was a team of rowers known as the Bears. Now these weren’t your average sort of rowers whose mascot was a bear, but actual big, furry, growling with fangs and big pointy teeth bears. Like the kind that steal your peanut butter on camping holidays. They trained long and hard on the waters of the Charles, until at last they found themselves ready to take on the big prize: their first entry into a proper rowing competition.

 The bears got their boat atop their van, strapping it down tightly for the road. Then with much anticipation, they let the van roar into life, sailing on its way down the road out of Boston towards the Hudson. The journey was long and fun, filled with excitement and lots of growling. At long last they arrived on the banks of the Hudson at Albany. Their excitement was unmeasurable, unsurmountable for any average meter of measuring surmountability.

They roared out of their van, grabbing their boat by its bottom, and running with it towards the river bank where the other teams were warming up for the race to come. However, at the sight of five bears running with a rowing boat hoisted above their heads running down the bank towards the gathering teams, the competition panicked and fled onto the water. The bears figured that this must have meant that the race had begun, and they picked up the pace, growling heartily at the competition to “Wait! Let us get on the line too!” However their cries seemed to make no real mark of calm upon the ears of the rowing teams.

At the water’s edge, they hurled the boat out in front of them, jumping into it in turn, until all five bears sat in their boat, the oars thrusting strongly into the water, back and forth, propelling their boat forward beyond that of all of the competition. But something seemed off, as they found men with guns standing on a bridge over the river. “Tranquilisers!” the bears shouted, ducking to dodge the darts that shot from above.

At the finish the bears found themselves cornered by a hundred armed men and women. The sorry team at last realised what was going on, that in fact all these people were terrified for their lives. The lead bear took his oar, using the handled end he drew in the sand of the bank, “Nous sommes les Roberts!”

And that is why there were some concerns in the Hudson Valley last week about an invasion from Northern Quebec. Whether the bears ever worried again is unknown, as they kept rowing onwards, south towards the sea.

18 June 2014 – Humidity

I don’t know what I would have done

in decades past prior to the invention

the fantastic invention of air conditioning.

As it turns out, I probably would have

most undoubtedly sweated to death

in these unreasonably humid

Kansas City summers.

There is something quite pleasant

that comes to mind when one steps

out of the a/c and into the heat,

after all, it means that there is always

the a/c to go back to if one wishes.

So, as I offer my thanks to God

and the inventor of air conditioning

whichever of the millions of saints that may be

I react fondly to the fogging up of my specs

each and every time I step out of my car

and back into the summer heat.

17 June 2014 – A Musical World

There is music in the world

it flows in the winds

it flowers on the trees.

There is music in the world

which blossoms with each new life

and is releas’d into the cosmos

with each passing death.

There is music in the world

that makes us all happy

that makes us cry.

All this can be done by music

the rhythm of life

the melodious voice of nature

the source of beauty and strength.

16 June 2014 – Late Winter Journeys

I dreamt last night

that some friends and I met

in a café in Chicago.

There we chatted, laughed, and told stories

until unbeknownst to me the time came

for my friends to take up and leave.

“Where are you going?” I asked them,

“You’ll see, just wait there,” they replied smiling.

I sat on the plump red sofa in that café

for a few minutes more, when from the crowd

came my two friends once more.

They returned with three tickets,

and joined me at the seat,

whose arms protruded from its back

and buckled us in all quite neat.

Then out of the café did we fly

Without even the bat of an eye

for that flight was without motion

as we disolv’d without commotion

and soon I awoke as if from a slumber

conduced by jet lag, on an expressway

riding in a small bus, further from the city where I belong’d.

Then suddenly we came to our exit, and rounded a bend

going down a road lined with hedges

that seem’d to go on for no end.

Then at their conclusion, we did find,

what appear’d to be a train station

situated atop a hill, the tracks cover’d by fog

“Welcome to Glenview,” said the driver,

yet this was not the Glenview that I knew.

Heaven forbid it! I looked at my watch

and recall’d my calendar

that in the city I had to be

in less than an hour.

In a sort of panic I awoke,

to find myself confounded

haunt’d by what was but a dream.

14 June 2014 – “In the forest he played his flute” from the play “Orpheus and Eurydice”

The following comes from my 2011 play “Orpheus and Eurydice”. Copyright Seán Kane, 2011.

In the forest he played his flute

For all the trees to hear and dance to,

Amongst the trees he was resolute

In his proclamation of God’s love anew.

For here he was most at ease

Amongst the arbours,

Amongst the trees

For here in the woodland he seeks.

O Orpheus, a wife he wants

A beautiful maid to wed,

Come, loving poet sing odes

To the nymphs of the wood.

Come, beautiful voice,

It is your choice.