Dearest JACOB,
The Gift of Love
A Sonnet,
By Izzy Sommers
Dear Jacob, Mentor
You pulled me from the deep and made me whole.
You gave me gifts beyond the treasure of
Bill Gates’ of Microsoft, Bill Clinton of
The White House and the Walmart’s Family.
The gift of love. The gift of giving love.
The gift forgiveness gives. The gift of God.
The gift of Jesus as he taught and healed
And sacrificed his worldly flesh to save
Humanity. Humanity! You gave
Me back Humanity. You helped me find
My soul, my humanness, my kindness and
My love of Man, my wanting to be Me.
My need for friendship and support, and Thee.
THE END
© Izzy Sommers
Spring, Rebirth, 2008
Jesus was and is there and will be there again.
ALMIGHTY JESUS
A Sonnet
By Izzy Sommers
O, Jesus saw the chambers of the deaths
Of Jews and Homosexuals and those
Of crippled bodies and of darker skins.
O, Jesus saw the Russians kill their own,
Their very own and take the sacred lands
Of Poland Lithuania
O, Jesus saw Vietnamese kill those
Who wanted to arrest expansion of
O, Jesus saw the suffering of men
Katrina trapped, of dogs displaced, of kids
Ripped from their families and left to die.
O, Jesus, Why Tsunami? Why delay?
What plan is there to end Mankind, today?
THE END
©Izzy Sommers
Cinco da Mayo, 2008
Suppose Jesus were here...
Suppose Our Saviour
A Blues Lament, by Izzy Sommers
Suppose Our Saviour took a walk on Earth
And walked right up your street or alley way,
Would you react in such a way to see
Him smile or would you run or would you say:
O, please come home with me and hear me speak
About reality and Hell and Sin;
Perhaps you’d ask how you can circumvent
Your sinning and become an angel, too.
Suppose Our Saviour regularly strolls
Along the streets of every town and sees
How everyone is living/loving and
Prevaricating/sinning/coveting?
He waits for us to turn around to Him
And see the glow of Hope upon His face.
He waits for us to take His Spirit in,
Accept rebirth and welcome Him apace.
THE END
© Izzy Sommers
May, 2008
Mr. X, party guy...
LETTER TO THE EDITOR
Izzy Sommers, MD, retired
The Editor, The Welland
Dear folks,
Two days ago, I arrived home about 9 pm and found my apartment house surrounded by police and EMT vehicles. It turns out my next door neighbour had died and lay dead for some 10-14 days before being found that evening.My other neighbours and I had discussed the slightly weird smell of fish for two days and the fact that a notice about new smoking rules was still under his door. Apparently, a relative had been called who entered the apartment and discovered the truth about my neighbour. I’ll call him Mr. X.
Mr. X. was not nice to me. When I first moved in about 5 years ago, he threatened me with a broom because I was feeding the birds in the winter. He claimed the birds brought their excrement and that brought vermin, an explanation he proffered at the top of his lungs while brandishing a whisk broom. His companion at the time was another one of my immediate neighbours and she screamed that I should go back to the swamp from which I’d come. Mr. X. was arrested the next night for fighting with yet another neighbour upstairs from me. About a week later, both the woman and Mr. X knocked on my door separately asking to borrow $5; I refused saying, truthfully, that I was always short myself.
Over the past 5 years, Mr. X and I have had a cool relationship, both of us mumbling hello if we passed in the hall and both of us offering no more that a comment about the weather. A parade of neighbours was always going in and out of his apartment. Moreover, there was a frequent party of which I could here the noise at all hours through my living room wall which was his living room wall.
For the past 2 weeks, looking back, it had been relatively quiet and in my mind I thought he was on vacation or visiting his many relatives who didn’t seem to come around much, as opposed to his neighbours who came around frequently. The story of his being undiscovered for possibly 2 weeks didn’t make sense until one of my other friendly neighbours told me she heard that he had had a “falling out” with his best buddy, and his neighbour friends, upstairs, and that the bad feelings from the disagreement had spread to others.
I was left to guess that Mr. X. had had a massive heart attack or stroke and had died quietly. No one reported hearing anything like a scream or a cry for help. In a sense, I’ll miss him. Despite our difficulties I admired his apparent charisma which seemed to attract many folks from upstairs and downstairs. It seemed to me that he had somehow converted the loneliness of living alone in a prison-like apartment to the friendliness of a summer resort. Perhaps when the new neighbour moves in, I should threaten him or her with a whisk broom and start the relationship off with a bang and then convert it to a whimper and a friendly association, like Mr. X seemed to operate.
Thanks for listening,
I remain
Sincerely yours,
Izzy Sommers, MD, retired.
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