Some doctors are good – some are really bad,
Some you will be sorry you met – some you will be glad,
Some are professionals and have some good sense,
Some are totally off the mark – and will turn you into a mess,
Some are fat and jolly some are mean and skinny,
Some got their license from Harvard University –
and some from a Shaman in Papua New Guinea,
Unfortunately, you don’t know until it is too late,
If you are the fisherman or just the fishing bait,
If you are like me, it’s like flipping a coin,
You go in for a headache and they split you at the groin,

Understanding Stenting

Pains in ones chest can have many a reasons,
Can be love, your injured pump or changes of the seasons,
In my case, it has been a lucky stroke for my 59 birthday,
Actually not a stroke, just pains resolved by Nitro spray,
A warning for me has been so gracefully sent,
I needed to listen carefully and then to understand,
Two arteries are each 95% blocked and jammed,
Making passage of the blood very tight and crammed,
In order to eliminate disaster – calamity prevent,
I was told that I am in a need to install in me a stent
Well actually, I need two at least a third is in question,
It’s cheaper by the dozen and does not hurt my digestion,
So come Monday I will present myself I shall not bent
I will stand proud no one will be able to say that I was under-stent

Don’t Wait To Be Given

Mitt Romney made his biggest mistake,
When he waited to be given – instead of take,
He does not understand the simple truth the real fact,
You don’t let others define you, it’s a suicide pact,
Romney waited for Obama to define him to the public,
Obama did and made Romney a rich Schmuck to the republic,
Romney now has to prove he has no sister and that he pays tax,
While Obama is sending the USA 300 years back on its tracks,
Another four years of Obama fast tongue but slow action,
The USA will forget addition it only needs subtraction,
Look at Rome America and learn, Sic Transit Gloria Mundi,
Very fast you can be with a GDP like Rwanda and Burundi

Yom Kippur Birthday

This year my birthday falls on Yom Kippur,
Sort of expected must be Force Majeure,
Every so often, it happens this way,
That my date of birth falls on that day,
It’s judgment day the Day of Atonement,
A day of fasting deep thoughts and repent,
Just my luck on this day no cake, no party,
As if otherwise, I would have one done for me,
Come to think of it I really don’t recall even once,
My birthday gave anyone a reason to dance,
So the Day of Atonement is very becoming,
Even without trumpets and drumming,

Bottom Line

I read Stanley Baker last words,
As he was dying, his last few precious breaths,
At the age of 48, he said,
As he was on his dying bed,
“I have no regrets I had a great life,
It was short yet was full of joy and strife,
I was born into love I married into love,
And spent my life in love,”
Lucky he was Stanley Baker, one must admit,
Easy to figure out, no need for special wit,
As for me – the awakening, recognition,
By my own admission,
Born into confusion,
Married into an illusion,
Spent my life in seclusion,
Now nearing conclusion,


What is wrong with today’s “leadership”?
Why do I stay up at night unable to sleep?
Because today we have career politicians,
Weaklings that cannot make decisions,
Kissing little babies in fund raising meetings,
While everyone else is taking a beating,
Their specialty has been for many years,
To make promises to the masses amidst empty cheers,
Their interest is how to keep their job alive,
Instead of doing their job and let us survive,
Our choices have been between bad and worse,
This is our destiny this is our curse


Crosswords are little games we play,
It expands the mind eliminates brain decay,
At least I hope this is the case,
When your memory is gone without a trace,
It seems I do remember the face,
But the name somehow has been misplaced,
Now it is “What’s his name?”
As I lower my head in utter shame,
Where did I put the – what you call it?
I remember the banana but I forgot the split,
Maybe it is for the best that we forget,
Forgetting helps avoiding being upset,
Every day is new, I think, not so sure anymore,
Maybe we are just going in circles inside a swivel door,
We are lucky to have the technology,
This way I manage to remind me,
I send myself a reminder via the email,
This way I know I shall not fail,
Now all that is left for me is to remember,
What was it again? I wonder


The great importance of being regular,
Is crucially important to stomach and bladder,
Not to mention the overall feeling of lightness,
Otherwise, there is the unmistakable sense of tightness,
So make sure your diet includes, fiber, veggies and fruit,
Add a little flax, hemp seed and psylium to boot,
And you are all set to get going face the new day,
After eating oatmeal, and fiber and hay,
Light as a feather you will be on your way,
If you didn’t go today, all you can do is pray,

Soup Again

September, summer is over we have had enough,
Football is back for all the ones missing that stuff,
Hockey season is soon to start as well,
(It is important to us Canadians-
That north of the border dwell,)
My grandson Liam is seven months old,
Still his head looks almost bald,
(It is a family trait for many generations,
In one or in many variations),
Today when I played with him, he was such a joy,
His laughter was rolling as he used my nose as a toy,
Yes the days are coming and going, soon cold again,
Back to the hot soups, the roasts and the Quiche Loraine

The Old Town

It must have been five decades ago and more,
I must have been four or even before,
The voices coming from the narrow unpaved street,
The rumble of horses and buggies and feet,
The voices so long ago gone, vanished, disappeared,
If you heard them today, it would sound weird,
The horse and buggy selling the ice for the icebox,
You could get half or a third or even two blocks,
The man selling vegetables, he had a huge horse,
That was patiently eating as a matter of course,
The old man carrying his knife sharpening stone,
He would sing his services inviting homemakers-
To get their knives sharpened and honed,
Then there was the guy collecting old things,
He sang in Yiddish “Alte Zachen” his voice would ring,
Meaning “old things”, bring them to me,
It was a mobile flea market yet without the flea,
There was the half-crazed old man in his long coat,
He used to collect glass bottles. Why? I know not,
A couple of months ago I visited the old country,
Sitting not far from the Mediterranean sea,
The small, neglected, hot and sweaty town,
It’s not changed, same old place, more run down,
Brought back the memories of times gone for good,
When I used to live in that old town, in the hood