Immortal

What is immortality to me?
It's a chance again to breathe so free,
never to be inundated with worldly pain,
always to know how to remain
at peace with myself no matter where
and speak no words except for prayer.

We people of this earth cannot conceive
and probably never will believe
in a warless existence that comes alive
where peace and love for all does thrive.
We have walked this earth too many times.
We will leave the graves and we'll hear the chimes.
And we will survive.

I am immortal and so are you.
We'll leave all falseness and find what's true.
We won't have to wonder who we are.
We'll understand that we're not too far
from every place we've ever been

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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I Remember

I remember being ten years old
And wondering what I would be?
I talked it over with my father
And he said, “We’ll see.”
I remember being twenty years old
And wondering all about life.
I found myself getting married
And learning to be a wife.
I remember being thirty years old
With 2 sons at my side.
I saw a few strands of gray hair
Which I tried to hide.
I remember being forty-five
And birthdays coming too soon.
I was teaching kids all about music
And waiting for vacations in June.
I remember when I turned fifty
And my body started to change.
The hormonal and emotional challenges
All became so strange.

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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September 11th

Remember the two tall twin towers,
the crumbling ash that fell not in hours
but just mere minutes,
minutes of horror and disbelief
watched over and over with sadness and grief.
It was played repeatedly on the TV,
ripping apart viewer's psyche.

And whom did we blame for this blatant act?
A man in a cave that can't be tracked?
Suspicious minds say, 'This cannot be.'
Planes that flew unmercifully
while our president sat and read a book,
safe in a school while the towers shook.

And so we remember, yes we remember
that treacherous day in the month of September
when husbands and wives, sons and daughters
were gone in minutes from instant slaughter.
And who were the brave that came to the rescue?

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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So Connected To You

There are times when I'm happy
and times when I'm sad
and all of these times that I have had
are all connected to you,
so connected to you.
so connected to you.

There are times when it's sunny
and times when it's not
and all of these times I never forgot
were all connected to you,
so connected to you.

'Cause you have my heart on a string
and I can't control one little thing.
Where's my composure? Where did it go?
'Can't even answer for I don't know.

There are times when I'm jumpy
and times when I'm still

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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Technology

Technology is our future.
That's what they all say.
But I think our future
is getting in our way.

We, as humans
are becoming robotic.
So much so
that it seems idiotic.

We rely on machines
to tell us what to do.
If the computers are down
no one has a clue.

The kids play with joysticks
held tightly in their hand,
mowing people down
as fast as they can.

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Sight Too Sad

I walked the cemetary grounds and saw
the names engraved on stones.
I knew underneath the dark green grass
lay old and brittle bones.
How they died it did not say
just that they had gone away
on a certain date, now long forgot.
All of the stones a sorry lot.

Few had flowers. Most had naught.
Some were planted anew.
But most were desolate on the ground.
Their visitations all were through.
Who were these brave souls that had lived?
I would never know.
I walked the stones that lay in rows,
pacing to and fro.

I came upon a stone so sad
turned upon its side.

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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Thin

Thin, thin was the soup
ladled into the bowl.
It was watered down to make it last
as if it would keep them whole.

Thin, thin were the bodies
that sat 'round the table to eat.
They shared the watery sparseness of soup
with nary a piece of meat.

A time of discontent was here
and stomachs were never full.
This was the time they'd heard about,
stories that seemed so dull.

These stories were told with passion
by those who came before.
They jumped out of windows and stood in lines
saying, 'Please may I have some more? '

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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It's Just A Matter Of Time

How long will it take for sense to return?
How long will it take for all to discern
the difference between what is right or wrong?
Are we going to sing the same old song?

No one can predict what our furure will be.
All the religions would like us to see
their point of view as the holy word
that finality is coming which is absurd.

They rely on books written so long ago
by people in power who controlled what we know,
telling us all that the end days are near
keeping most people looking each year

for a nuclear bomb or natural disaster
to end it all as we meet our Master.
Will the world keep spinning or stop on a dime?
Everyone knows it's just a matter of time.

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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Life Is

Life is an extroardinary gift,
the chance to learn about love.
The gift that never gets opened
like a pinata that hangs above
just waits for the anticipation
of everyone in the room
to see it shower its contents
on everyone with love.

Life is a story for the telling,
the chance to hear about love.
The story that never gets told
is a story that some people shove
underneath the covers,
afraid that they might succumb
to that overpowering feeling
about a story that makes them numb.

Life is an adventure so lively,
the chance to act on a whim.

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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Beautiful Bashful Eyes

Big beautiful bashful eyes
with lashes oh so long
I love your beautiful bashful eyes.
They remind me of a song.,
a song to describe their color
and their lids that are half closed.
They never let me see behind them.
What they're feeling is never exposed.

Big beautiful bashful eyes
are lost in timid intent.
I wish for them to open wide
to see where they have spent
their shy-retiring gazes?
Were they ever looking my way?
Or were they lost in silent thought
afraid that they might stray

And find that all around you
eyes would be looking your way?

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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