Lady Liberty Ponders
By Steven Brandt
May 1, 2010
Where were you when the astronauts died?
When they climbed the sky on their fateful ride.
The day the fireball filled the sky,
Did you watch the news or click on by?
For Challenger’s crew who rest on high.
Where were you when they opened fire?
When they needed guns, were you the buyer?
The day the school ran red with blood,
Did you say a prayer and call it good?
For Columbine sinking in the mire.
Where were you when the towers fell?
When my children screamed in their fiery hell?
The day the planes dropped from the sky,
Did you scratch your head and wonder why?
For September 11’s funeral bells.
Where were you when the levees broke?
When the wrath of God so clearly spoke.
The day an entire city drowned,
Did you watch it all from higher ground?
For Katrina in her deathly cloak.
Where were you my fortunate sons?
When destiny frowned on the unlucky ones.
The day you’re sinking in the sand,
Will others stop to lend a hand?
For Lady Liberty, weeping alone.
I recently read a book called “The Hour I First Believed" by Wally Lamb. The book uses as its focal point the tragic event that occurred at Columbine High School on April 20, 1999. This excellent book really made me stop and think about some things.
One of the ideas Lamb puts forth in his book is how quickly we forget sometimes. Terrible things happen and we focus all of our attention on it for a few days, but then the next thing comes along.
So that’s what inspired this poem.
Revelation 12:9 The great dragon was hurled down—that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him.
Romans 12:19 Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay,"
Copyright 2010 Steven Brandt
Showing posts with label steven brandt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label steven brandt. Show all posts
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Friday, December 25, 2009
Poem - Christmas Chime
Yep, I’m up late again, and on Christmas eve, no less. The last couple of nights, I was up late because I was feeling kind of sad and depressed, but tonight I am up for a happier reason. I was laying in bed, listening to Grandpa’s wind-chime, (yes, it’s still very windy,) and a few verses of a poem started circling in my head. As the verses took shape, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I got them out of there. And this is what came out.
The old man in the poem, is of course, my Grandpa, an his son is Uncle Butch. I took a fair amount of creative license withboth of their wives, however, and neither of them resemble Grandma Howard or Aunt Ann in the least. Trust me on that.
If you are a lover of fine poetry, stop now, as what you find below is likely to turn your stomach. As I said before, I’m really not very good at this. It’s just something I do sometimes to cheer myself up a little. For the rest of you, enjoy!
Christmas Chime
By Steven Brandt
December 24, 2009
The old man looked with critical gaze,
Upon the creation he’d worked on for days.
A wind-chime, made with loving care
From bits of junk he found here and there.
He showed it to his wife with pride.
“It’s dirty,” she said, “don’t bring it inside!
Why would you make such an ugly bug?”
“God told me to.” He said with a shrug.
So in the back yard he hung it that day.
Beneath it’s clear notes, his grandson would play.
Year after year it chimed out its song,
Until the boy grew, and one day was gone.
The wind-chime played the part that was cast,
‘Til finally, the old man breathed his last.
His things were packed and carted away.
His son found the chime that sad, sad day.
He showed it to his wife with pride.
“It’s dirty,” she said, “don’t bring it inside!
Why would you keep such an ugly bug?”
“God told me to.” He said with a shrug.
The chime was put in a box, then and there.
And stored in the basement, stacked ‘neath the stair.
There it remained for uncountable days,
Never feeling the wind or singing its praise.
Retirement age soon brought the son down,
The big, old house too much for him now.
His things were packed and carted away.
He found the chime, where he’d stored it away.
“Well there you are, I'd nearly forgot,
But I know of someone who will love you a lot.”
His nephew lived not too far away,
So he gave him the chime on Christmas day.
The nephew, of course, was the very same one,
Who had played ‘neath the chime and heard its bright song,
And though he’d been blind now many a year,
The familiar old sound filled him with cheer.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, “please bring it inside.
I remember when Grandpa made this!” he cried.
As mem’ries returned from over the years,
His sightless eyes ran over with tears.
He showed it to his wife with pride,
They hung it from a branch outside.
“Who brought this gift? I’ll give him a hug.”
“it’s a gift from God.” He said with a shrug.
Copyright 2009 Steven Brandt
The old man in the poem, is of course, my Grandpa, an his son is Uncle Butch. I took a fair amount of creative license withboth of their wives, however, and neither of them resemble Grandma Howard or Aunt Ann in the least. Trust me on that.
If you are a lover of fine poetry, stop now, as what you find below is likely to turn your stomach. As I said before, I’m really not very good at this. It’s just something I do sometimes to cheer myself up a little. For the rest of you, enjoy!
Christmas Chime
By Steven Brandt
December 24, 2009
The old man looked with critical gaze,
Upon the creation he’d worked on for days.
A wind-chime, made with loving care
From bits of junk he found here and there.
He showed it to his wife with pride.
“It’s dirty,” she said, “don’t bring it inside!
Why would you make such an ugly bug?”
“God told me to.” He said with a shrug.
So in the back yard he hung it that day.
Beneath it’s clear notes, his grandson would play.
Year after year it chimed out its song,
Until the boy grew, and one day was gone.
The wind-chime played the part that was cast,
‘Til finally, the old man breathed his last.
His things were packed and carted away.
His son found the chime that sad, sad day.
He showed it to his wife with pride.
“It’s dirty,” she said, “don’t bring it inside!
Why would you keep such an ugly bug?”
“God told me to.” He said with a shrug.
The chime was put in a box, then and there.
And stored in the basement, stacked ‘neath the stair.
There it remained for uncountable days,
Never feeling the wind or singing its praise.
Retirement age soon brought the son down,
The big, old house too much for him now.
His things were packed and carted away.
He found the chime, where he’d stored it away.
“Well there you are, I'd nearly forgot,
But I know of someone who will love you a lot.”
His nephew lived not too far away,
So he gave him the chime on Christmas day.
The nephew, of course, was the very same one,
Who had played ‘neath the chime and heard its bright song,
And though he’d been blind now many a year,
The familiar old sound filled him with cheer.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, “please bring it inside.
I remember when Grandpa made this!” he cried.
As mem’ries returned from over the years,
His sightless eyes ran over with tears.
He showed it to his wife with pride,
They hung it from a branch outside.
“Who brought this gift? I’ll give him a hug.”
“it’s a gift from God.” He said with a shrug.
Copyright 2009 Steven Brandt
Monday, December 14, 2009
Story - First Edition
First Edition
by Steven Brandt
December 13, 2009
So this is my story. It’s kind of ironic when you think about it; me, telling a story. My brothers and I were put together and rolled out with high hopes. We were going to take on the whole world. We were really going to make a difference. And for a while, we did. I swear we did. For a while, we had the world by the tail. They talked about us in newspapers and magazines. And they didn’t dare say anything bad about us either. The whole world was ours for the taking, but it slipped away. Somehow, it all slipped away.
I guess I should start from the beginning. We all started out together, see? Of course, we knew we'd have to split up eventually. Some of us here, some of us there. We wanted to reach everybody! I was shipped out with a group that went up North.
We were special, see? We weren’t just spouting a bunch of nonsense like most of those guys. We had a real message to deliver. A message that really could change the world. All we had to do was tell people, and we just knew they would understand how important it was.
The plan went pretty smoothly at first. We knew we had to hit the major population centers first. Start at the top and work our way down, you know? We landed hard on the bigger stores and major shopping centers. All the places where lots of people gather. Maximum exposure. In my particular zone, there were about a thousand of us. The plan was to pick our targets, and then hit them at home. It worked. We were all dispersed within a matter of days.
When I got to the home of my target, it was easier than I thought. They didn’t even put up a fight. They totally bought in to everything I had to say. Pretty soon, they were quoting me to each other. Sometimes, neighbors would come over to see what I had to say. It was working! They were really listening to me! I know it sounds a little silly, but I could almost feel the world beginning to change all around me.
That’s when it started to go bad. I’m not even completely sure how it happened. One day I just kind of noticed that no one had paid much attention to me for a while. How could that be? I was in all the newspapers. Wasn't I? I couldn't remember the last time I had seen a newspaper, come to think of it. I was still trying to figure that out, when they moved me. I’d had my own special place, you know? Right there where everyone could focus on me. Maximum exposure. Next thing I knew, I was stuck in a dim corner where no one could even see me. But that's not the worst part. There were others here. Not my brothers, these guys were weird. Not just weird, insane. Spouting nonsense and gibberish all day. Some of them only spoke in rhymes, and a few just seemed to sleep all the time. There were dozens of them.
I knew I had to get out of there fast. I had to find my brothers and regroup, but I couldn’t even move. They had trapped me somehow, here with the idiots. The plan was falling apart, and I was powerless. I think I blacked out for a while.
When I woke up again, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. It only took a second to realize that I was still stuck there. The idiots were still there too, murmuring their nonsense. One thing was different though. There was dust everywhere. It covered everything, including me and the others. How long had I been out? I spent some time trying to get information from the guys who were closest to me. It was pointless. Then I tried inciting them to riot, present a united front and all that. That was no good either, they were spineless.
Things got a little hazy for me after that. More time passed, although I don’t know how much. I only remember things in flashes, like fragments of a bad dream. People came near now and then, but always ignored me. Mostly what I remember are the broken fragments of gibberish from the other captives. Nonsense like, “God bless us every one,” and "call me Ishmael," and “it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” One guy just kept murmuring, "and miles to go before I sleep,” over and over again.
One day, I woke up just as someone was grabbing for me. Too late, I was shoved into a cell and sealed inside before I could act. Me and a few of the others. We were being moved, probably to a maximum security facility. I knew I might never have another chance to make a break for it. But it had gotten so hard to think. And I was so sleepy. At one point, I realized with terror, that I was beginning to mutter and murmur to myself, like the others. I began to cry then, and cried myself to sleep.
The next time I woke up, I was here. I looked around my new surroundings and saw that I was in a much bigger place now. There were a lot more of us here too. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, packed together like sardines in a can. I was still a prisoner though. Still trapped. I had almost decided to just go back to sleep and never wake again, when I got my first, brief glimmer of hope. It was one of my brothers. Right here, beside me! I almost couldn’t believe it, but yes, he was right there. Maybe there was still hope. We could find some of the others; regroup; form a new plan. Yes, this was my big chance!
He was asleep. I yelled and yelled to wake him up. How had he let himself go like this? Finally he stirred, and I began sketching out a plan. But he wasn’t paying attention, what was wrong with him? I tried again, speaking slowly so he could follow along. But he wasn’t even listening! He…..he was...
He was muttering under his breath. The same lunatic phrase, over and over agan. “Once upon a time; once upon a time; once upon a time.”
I woke again, some time later. I saw that two more of our brothers had joined us. I didn’t even have the will to try to talk to them. What was the point? How did it all go so wrong? I now know that I’ll spend the rest of my life here, under the sign that says ‘used’. I know what that word means. I know all the words.
Epilogue
David put the book back on the shelf. It really didn’t look that good. This store never had anything good. He wondered why he had come in here in the first place. His girlfriend, Susan, stepped up beside him.
“What was that one?" she asked him.
“To Kill a Mockingbird.” He answered. “Ever heard of it?"
“Nope.”
“Me either. Can’t be very good, there’s four copies of it up here.”
“Hm.” She said uninterestedly. “Wanna go catch a movie? I heard ‘Space Bugs From Planet X’ is showing at the Marquee.”
“Sounds good.” He answered, bright-eyed. “Nothing better to do today.”
They left the store hand-in-hand, while the rows and rows of books slept on.
Copyright 2009 Steven Brandt
by Steven Brandt
December 13, 2009
So this is my story. It’s kind of ironic when you think about it; me, telling a story. My brothers and I were put together and rolled out with high hopes. We were going to take on the whole world. We were really going to make a difference. And for a while, we did. I swear we did. For a while, we had the world by the tail. They talked about us in newspapers and magazines. And they didn’t dare say anything bad about us either. The whole world was ours for the taking, but it slipped away. Somehow, it all slipped away.
I guess I should start from the beginning. We all started out together, see? Of course, we knew we'd have to split up eventually. Some of us here, some of us there. We wanted to reach everybody! I was shipped out with a group that went up North.
We were special, see? We weren’t just spouting a bunch of nonsense like most of those guys. We had a real message to deliver. A message that really could change the world. All we had to do was tell people, and we just knew they would understand how important it was.
The plan went pretty smoothly at first. We knew we had to hit the major population centers first. Start at the top and work our way down, you know? We landed hard on the bigger stores and major shopping centers. All the places where lots of people gather. Maximum exposure. In my particular zone, there were about a thousand of us. The plan was to pick our targets, and then hit them at home. It worked. We were all dispersed within a matter of days.
When I got to the home of my target, it was easier than I thought. They didn’t even put up a fight. They totally bought in to everything I had to say. Pretty soon, they were quoting me to each other. Sometimes, neighbors would come over to see what I had to say. It was working! They were really listening to me! I know it sounds a little silly, but I could almost feel the world beginning to change all around me.
That’s when it started to go bad. I’m not even completely sure how it happened. One day I just kind of noticed that no one had paid much attention to me for a while. How could that be? I was in all the newspapers. Wasn't I? I couldn't remember the last time I had seen a newspaper, come to think of it. I was still trying to figure that out, when they moved me. I’d had my own special place, you know? Right there where everyone could focus on me. Maximum exposure. Next thing I knew, I was stuck in a dim corner where no one could even see me. But that's not the worst part. There were others here. Not my brothers, these guys were weird. Not just weird, insane. Spouting nonsense and gibberish all day. Some of them only spoke in rhymes, and a few just seemed to sleep all the time. There were dozens of them.
I knew I had to get out of there fast. I had to find my brothers and regroup, but I couldn’t even move. They had trapped me somehow, here with the idiots. The plan was falling apart, and I was powerless. I think I blacked out for a while.
When I woke up again, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. It only took a second to realize that I was still stuck there. The idiots were still there too, murmuring their nonsense. One thing was different though. There was dust everywhere. It covered everything, including me and the others. How long had I been out? I spent some time trying to get information from the guys who were closest to me. It was pointless. Then I tried inciting them to riot, present a united front and all that. That was no good either, they were spineless.
Things got a little hazy for me after that. More time passed, although I don’t know how much. I only remember things in flashes, like fragments of a bad dream. People came near now and then, but always ignored me. Mostly what I remember are the broken fragments of gibberish from the other captives. Nonsense like, “God bless us every one,” and "call me Ishmael," and “it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” One guy just kept murmuring, "and miles to go before I sleep,” over and over again.
One day, I woke up just as someone was grabbing for me. Too late, I was shoved into a cell and sealed inside before I could act. Me and a few of the others. We were being moved, probably to a maximum security facility. I knew I might never have another chance to make a break for it. But it had gotten so hard to think. And I was so sleepy. At one point, I realized with terror, that I was beginning to mutter and murmur to myself, like the others. I began to cry then, and cried myself to sleep.
The next time I woke up, I was here. I looked around my new surroundings and saw that I was in a much bigger place now. There were a lot more of us here too. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, packed together like sardines in a can. I was still a prisoner though. Still trapped. I had almost decided to just go back to sleep and never wake again, when I got my first, brief glimmer of hope. It was one of my brothers. Right here, beside me! I almost couldn’t believe it, but yes, he was right there. Maybe there was still hope. We could find some of the others; regroup; form a new plan. Yes, this was my big chance!
He was asleep. I yelled and yelled to wake him up. How had he let himself go like this? Finally he stirred, and I began sketching out a plan. But he wasn’t paying attention, what was wrong with him? I tried again, speaking slowly so he could follow along. But he wasn’t even listening! He…..he was...
He was muttering under his breath. The same lunatic phrase, over and over agan. “Once upon a time; once upon a time; once upon a time.”
I woke again, some time later. I saw that two more of our brothers had joined us. I didn’t even have the will to try to talk to them. What was the point? How did it all go so wrong? I now know that I’ll spend the rest of my life here, under the sign that says ‘used’. I know what that word means. I know all the words.
Epilogue
David put the book back on the shelf. It really didn’t look that good. This store never had anything good. He wondered why he had come in here in the first place. His girlfriend, Susan, stepped up beside him.
“What was that one?" she asked him.
“To Kill a Mockingbird.” He answered. “Ever heard of it?"
“Nope.”
“Me either. Can’t be very good, there’s four copies of it up here.”
“Hm.” She said uninterestedly. “Wanna go catch a movie? I heard ‘Space Bugs From Planet X’ is showing at the Marquee.”
“Sounds good.” He answered, bright-eyed. “Nothing better to do today.”
They left the store hand-in-hand, while the rows and rows of books slept on.
Copyright 2009 Steven Brandt
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Poem - Stranger In My Home
Hi there. I debated about this for a while, but finally decided to post this in my blog. Over the years, I have dabbled a little in poetry. I only dabbled because I’m not very good at it. Joni is the poet of the family, and I’m okay with that.
I debated about it because I don’t want people to get the wrong idea. It’s kind of a dark poem, but I promise I’m not suicidal or anything. I finally decided to post it because, like it or not, it’s a part of me, and that’s what my blog is all about; me, and my journey through life.
A few of the lines from this poem started running around in my head a few years ago, but I never made a serious attempt to capture them and write them down. Interestingly, it has been my blindness that gave me some new insights on it and helped me complete it.
So anyway, here’s my poem. Just don’t read too much into it, okay?
Stranger In My Home
By Steven Brandt
December 11, 2009
Who is this stranger in my home?
Who haunts these rooms when I’m alone?
A faceless ghoul to harry me,
A nameless face I cannot see.
I hear the voices laugh and cry,
They disappear when I walk by.
“Get out of here, just go away!”
I hear the words they’ll never say.
These ghosts will be the death of me
If I cannot escape or flee.
Would they still mock if I were gone?
Or would their job on earth be done?
I wander ‘round my rooms by dark
When living seems like much less work.
There is no hope or end in sight,
I’m just a creature of the night.
I find a door and enter through,
The hall of glass reveals the truth.
And in the mirror, the face I see,
The stranger in my home is me.
Copyright 2009 Steven Brandt
I debated about it because I don’t want people to get the wrong idea. It’s kind of a dark poem, but I promise I’m not suicidal or anything. I finally decided to post it because, like it or not, it’s a part of me, and that’s what my blog is all about; me, and my journey through life.
A few of the lines from this poem started running around in my head a few years ago, but I never made a serious attempt to capture them and write them down. Interestingly, it has been my blindness that gave me some new insights on it and helped me complete it.
So anyway, here’s my poem. Just don’t read too much into it, okay?
Stranger In My Home
By Steven Brandt
December 11, 2009
Who is this stranger in my home?
Who haunts these rooms when I’m alone?
A faceless ghoul to harry me,
A nameless face I cannot see.
I hear the voices laugh and cry,
They disappear when I walk by.
“Get out of here, just go away!”
I hear the words they’ll never say.
These ghosts will be the death of me
If I cannot escape or flee.
Would they still mock if I were gone?
Or would their job on earth be done?
I wander ‘round my rooms by dark
When living seems like much less work.
There is no hope or end in sight,
I’m just a creature of the night.
I find a door and enter through,
The hall of glass reveals the truth.
And in the mirror, the face I see,
The stranger in my home is me.
Copyright 2009 Steven Brandt
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Welcome
Hello, and welcome to my blog. My name is Steven Brandt, I’m 38 years old, and I am blind. I wasn’t born blind, it’s kind of a recent thing.
The story of how I came to be blind is a long one and I plan to talk about that in future posts, but for now I just wanted to welcome you and explain a little bit about what this blog is all about.
I’ve been feeling the urge to do this for some time now, but I kept putting it off. I kept telling myself it would be too hard seeing as how I’m blind and all. And it is hard believe me. Since I went blind I haven’t been able to use the computer at all, which has been a serious blow to me because I have always loved doing things on the computer. But a few days ago the Commission for the Blind hooked me up with this screen reader software called JAWS which helps blind people use the computer.
So here I am learning how to use the computer again. Basically it’s memorizing a lot of keyboard shortcuts. It’s challenging and frustrating and exciting all at the same time. That’s a lot of emotion to feel all at once but hey, that’s life right? We often find ourselves in situations where we feel overwhelmed. What I’ve learned is that the world doesn’t stop and wait for us to get our heads on straight; it just keeps on a-rolling.
So why am I writing this blog? My goal is to chronicle some of the changes that I’ve been through over the last few years. My hope is that people will find this blog and draw some hope and encouragement from it because I’ll tell you something right now; if you think you’re in a bad situation, it could be a whole lot worse. Take a look around you, there are things to be thankful for everywhere you look. And if you look carefully you may even notice some people who are hurting more than you are.
Oops! I’m starting to get preachy already aren’t I? :-) Well, I think I’ll just leave it right here for now. I hope you’ll come back and read more about my story. Maybe we’ll both learn something. My plan is to post new messages on a weekly basis but we’ll just have to see how it goes huh?
Thanks again for stopping by, you are welcome anytime.
The story of how I came to be blind is a long one and I plan to talk about that in future posts, but for now I just wanted to welcome you and explain a little bit about what this blog is all about.
I’ve been feeling the urge to do this for some time now, but I kept putting it off. I kept telling myself it would be too hard seeing as how I’m blind and all. And it is hard believe me. Since I went blind I haven’t been able to use the computer at all, which has been a serious blow to me because I have always loved doing things on the computer. But a few days ago the Commission for the Blind hooked me up with this screen reader software called JAWS which helps blind people use the computer.
So here I am learning how to use the computer again. Basically it’s memorizing a lot of keyboard shortcuts. It’s challenging and frustrating and exciting all at the same time. That’s a lot of emotion to feel all at once but hey, that’s life right? We often find ourselves in situations where we feel overwhelmed. What I’ve learned is that the world doesn’t stop and wait for us to get our heads on straight; it just keeps on a-rolling.
So why am I writing this blog? My goal is to chronicle some of the changes that I’ve been through over the last few years. My hope is that people will find this blog and draw some hope and encouragement from it because I’ll tell you something right now; if you think you’re in a bad situation, it could be a whole lot worse. Take a look around you, there are things to be thankful for everywhere you look. And if you look carefully you may even notice some people who are hurting more than you are.
Oops! I’m starting to get preachy already aren’t I? :-) Well, I think I’ll just leave it right here for now. I hope you’ll come back and read more about my story. Maybe we’ll both learn something. My plan is to post new messages on a weekly basis but we’ll just have to see how it goes huh?
Thanks again for stopping by, you are welcome anytime.
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