5 Poems by Steven Wittenberg Gordon

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    5 Poems by Steven Wittenberg Gordon

    Morale Call

    I was finally granted a “morale call”
    on the iridium satellite phone.
    Five Minutes Only.

    Thank God my wife picked up.

    It was so good to hear
    her voice and let her know
    I was all right.

    Our daughter was hit in the face
    by a swing.  A bloody nose
    resulted.

    Our son was having problems
    in school but was otherwise handling
    my absence well.

    She was planning a trip
    to look at possible sites
    for my future civilian practice.

    But my future plans seemed distant,
    mired as I was in the present.

    She told she was proud
    of me and that she loved me.

    I love you.  I miss you.

    And then the call was over.


    Sweeping Puddles Away

    I spent much of the day,
    As it rained over night,
    Sweeping puddles away

    Of mosquitoes that prey.
    In controlling their blight
    I spent much of the day.

    Of the eggs that they lay
    And their larva so white
    Sweeping puddles away

    Is what keeps them at bay.
    So in this endless fight
    I spent much of the day.

    For my flight surgeon’s pay
    My broom moved left and right
    Sweeping puddles away

    Lest mosquitoes would play
    And then breed, bloom, and bite,
    I spent much of the day
    Sweeping puddles away.


    Atlanta’s Triolet

    If you believe that you should be
    The one to share my marriage bed
    Then race me through the forest free
    If you believe that you should be
    The one to spend your life with me
    But lose and you shall lose your head
    If you believe that you should be
    The one to share my marriage bed


    Chick Magnet

    The Prince of Troy was offered powerful gifts from each goddess:
    A silver diadem of wisdom from grey-eyed Athena,
    A golden belt of virtue from the regal, jealous Hera,
    A magic ebon bow from the virgin huntress Artemis.
    However it was Aphrodite’s gift that the young prince chose--
    A seemingly ordinary ring of the darkest lodestone
    Suspended from a thong of ordinary braided leather.
    Aphrodite placed her gift ‘round the neck of her champion,
    And when the smooth stone settled against the prince’s naked breast,
    Even proud Hera was forced to lay her jealousy aside
    To admire the sudden radiant beauty of the youth.


    Europa goddess moon

    Frigid.  Under the blanket.  Of sea ice
    The womb.  Always quickens
    A god in disguise
    Penetrates.  Deep.  Beneath.
    Life swimming.


    Bionote

    A poet, writer, physician, and gentleman songster, Steven Wittenberg Gordon, MD was raised in the dairy country of upstate New York. He received his BA from Amherst College and his MD from Albany Medical College, and then completed a family practice residency in Wisconsin. After practicing medicine for several years in various locations, he volunteered for service with the United States Air Force and had many memorable adventures as a flight surgeon.  While on active duty, he played a small part in the military’s response to the tragic tsunami that struck Indonesia in 2004--“Morale Call” and “Sweeping Puddles Away” are part of a larger body of work that was inspired by that experience. Doctor Gordon resides in Kansas with his human family and a poorly trained Airedale terrier. He continues to maintain a modest concierge medical practice and keeps himself ready and available to perform physicals on military recruits when USMEPCOM calls upon him for aid. His poetry appears regularly in Scifaikuest, Eternal Haunted Summer, Asimov's, and, of course, Songs of Eretz. Doctor Gordon is a member of the Codex Writers' Group and the editor of Songs of Eretz Poetry Review. Visit him at www.eretzsongs.blogspot.com, follow him on Twitter @SongsofEretz, or email him at SWGordonMD@gmail.com.



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