'another Kennedy' ** timothy r gates, 8/27/2009
i remember
that day,
JFK's repose
near the grassy knoll.
Cuba's nemesis,
someone used this notion to
shoot our President.
little John saluted
his Daddy,
found his repose
in flight.
'Sweet Caroline'
sails with Daddy,
in her dreams.
fifth grade teacher
hated my President,
told us (yes, actually said this),
'The President kicked the bucket today.'
hate's boundaries:
love.
Bobby fell
at another's hands. Too.
Irish Catholic sadness,
known by Jews, African Americans,
probably most Russians people:
self-deprecating embracing
the normalcy of
suffering, struggle. Strength.
Teddy,
not Bobby or Jack,
just Edward,
his own chosen
tenacious tenuous, pluses minuses,
life.
In repose,
another grassy knoll.
Another Kennedy.
**Memory Eternal. Edward Moore 'Ted' Kennedy, February 22, 1932 August 25, 2009.
A person, happened to be a man, from a time along with my Father's peers, whose strengths
and weaknesses gave us our failures and triumphs in our day. I believe, that those of this
passing generation lived more honestly than most in our present public and private lives.
Their prejudices and bigotries were open, and therefore able to be critiqued easily. It is also
what gave them the freedom to evolve beyond them. Today, it seems to me, we deny any
present tense prejudicial bigotries, claiming to be enlightened and progressive, creating
a catchword, 'diversity.' Teddy Kennedy struggled through life, at the hurt of some and
the praise of many, maybe precisely because he learned that it was as important to admit
to one's inhumanity as it is to practice humanity. My heart breaks today, maybe, to be
honest, because the brother of my President died, and I remember what this ten year
felt on that infamous day. If possible, I pray that they're sailing together as they did
before that day. Memory Eternal.
i remember
that day,
JFK's repose
near the grassy knoll.
Cuba's nemesis,
someone used this notion to
shoot our President.
little John saluted
his Daddy,
found his repose
in flight.
'Sweet Caroline'
sails with Daddy,
in her dreams.
fifth grade teacher
hated my President,
told us (yes, actually said this),
'The President kicked the bucket today.'
hate's boundaries:
love.
Bobby fell
at another's hands. Too.
Irish Catholic sadness,
known by Jews, African Americans,
probably most Russians people:
self-deprecating embracing
the normalcy of
suffering, struggle. Strength.
Teddy,
not Bobby or Jack,
just Edward,
his own chosen
tenacious tenuous, pluses minuses,
life.
In repose,
another grassy knoll.
Another Kennedy.
**Memory Eternal. Edward Moore 'Ted' Kennedy, February 22, 1932 August 25, 2009.
A person, happened to be a man, from a time along with my Father's peers, whose strengths
and weaknesses gave us our failures and triumphs in our day. I believe, that those of this
passing generation lived more honestly than most in our present public and private lives.
Their prejudices and bigotries were open, and therefore able to be critiqued easily. It is also
what gave them the freedom to evolve beyond them. Today, it seems to me, we deny any
present tense prejudicial bigotries, claiming to be enlightened and progressive, creating
a catchword, 'diversity.' Teddy Kennedy struggled through life, at the hurt of some and
the praise of many, maybe precisely because he learned that it was as important to admit
to one's inhumanity as it is to practice humanity. My heart breaks today, maybe, to be
honest, because the brother of my President died, and I remember what this ten year
felt on that infamous day. If possible, I pray that they're sailing together as they did
before that day. Memory Eternal.