When All Is Said and Done

[Mark A Becker]

When All Is Said and Done

I like the feel of newspapers.
I sort of miss the old Muntz
black and white TV, and guiding
rabbit ears for a picture; even
the sound of the dead channels.
The old humming wires
have all been detached now.

When I realize how pompous
so many of today’s pundits sound
I can almost understand why
they seem so certain that their strident
babbling will actually make a difference.
I have made the same mistakes, but try
to save my breath now

for conversations with dogs,
or various other animals.
The other day, my wife caught me
talking to the spider on our arbor
as I marveled at the silky perfection
of the trap he laid.  I wonder
how he mastered his craft.

Or the cardinals; how they learned
to weave their nest.  And why they don't
migrate like the other birds.
I have asked them.  I have not
gotten any answers, and don’t expect
I will. Yet, what they do rings truer
than today's noise- when more is said than done.

When All Is Said and Done

I like the feel of newspapers.
I sort of miss the old Muntz
black and white TV, and guiding
rabbit ears for a picture; even
the sound of the dead channels.
The old humming wires
have all been detached now.

When I realize how convinced
so many of today’s pundits are
I can almost understand why they
seem so certain that their strident
babbling will actually make a difference.
I made the same mistakes, yet try
to save my breath now

for conversations with dogs,
or various other animals.
The other day, my wife caught me
talking to the spider on our arbor
as I marveled at the silky perfection
of the trap he laid.  I wonder
how he learned his craft.

Or the cardinals; how they know
how to weave their nest.  And why
don’t they migrate like the other birds? 
I have asked them.  I have not
gotten any answers, and don’t expect
I will. Their silence rings truer than today's
strident babbling- when more is said than done.

[rowens]

The static between stations on radios and tvs, and the antennas and tuning knobs have me feel things that Christians feel in near death experiences. Instead of a family member or angel, in the clear radiant light, I see Al Bundy or Fred Sanford or Freddy Krueger, if it's a good night, Drew Barrymore.

Much of the woods around my neighborhood, to call it that, are being cut away. I see cardinals standing on treestumps and feel, if they can do it, so can I.

---

One among this cycle of poems I'm going through is called There Are No People Only the Dreams Of Animals. Maybe that will relate to your poem here. Maybe not. There are no people in it. Or so says the title.

[brynmawr1]

When All Is Said and Done

I like the feel of newspapers.
I sort of miss the old Muntz
black and white TV, and guiding
rabbit ears for a picture; even
the sound of the dead channels.
The old humming wires
have all been detached now.

When I realize how much younger
so many of today’s pundits are
I can almost understand why they
seem so certain that their strident
babbling will actually make a difference.
I made the same mistakes, yet try
to save my breath now

for conversations with dogs,
or various other animals.
The other day, my wife caught me
talking to the spider on our arbor
as I marveled at the silky perfection
of the trap he laid.  I wonder
how he learned his craft.

Or the cardinals; how they know
how to weave their nest.  And why
don’t they migrate like the other birds? 
I have asked them.  I have not
gotten any answers, and don’t expect
I will. Yet their silence rings truer than today's
strident babbling- when more is said than done.

Hi Mark,
I enjoyed the poem, particularly the ending.  I work with animals for a living.  It's true animals don't talk much but they always have a lot to say if you listen.
Take care,
steve

[Tiger the Lion]

I really enjoyed this one, Mark. Consider moving it to a workshop forum.

When All Is Said and Done

I like the feel of newspapers. I like simple statements for opening lines. This one says a lot about the N already...
I sort of miss the old Muntz nice line break on Muntz
black and white TV, and guiding
rabbit ears for a picture; even
the sound of the dead channels.
The old humming wires
have all been detached now. fantastic. Exactly how an aging narrator would say it

When I realize how much younger I think you could just say "how young" rather than "how much younger"
so many of today’s pundits are "are" is a tough one to end a line with. A comma after "are" might help?
I can almost understand why they
seem so certain that their strident
babbling will actually make a difference.
I made the same mistakes, yet try
to save my breath now

the transition between the strophe above and the one below is really well done - from one idea to the next without pause. Excellent

for conversations with dogs,
or various other animals.
The other day, my wife caught me
talking to the spider on our arbor
as I marveled at the silky perfection
of the trap he laid.  I wonder
how he learned his craft.

Or the cardinals; how they know
how to weave their nest.  And why I have an idea here, but it's a little specific. I'll hold onto it for now. (we're still in misc. after all)
don’t they migrate like the other birds? 
I have asked them.  I have not
gotten any answers, and don’t expect
I will. Yet their silence rings truer than today's
strident babbling- when more is said than done. Great end line. Though I'm a little confused why you used "strident babbling" twice. I'm sure you have your reasons, but for me it was a slight distraction from the power of the end line, rather than a reinforcement.

Good work, Mark. I really enjoyed it from the first read. Sorry for the extensive notes in MISC. but I felt it was warranted.

[busker]

When All Is Said and Done

I like the feel of newspapers.
I sort of miss the old Muntz
black and white TV, and guiding
rabbit ears for a picture; even ... nice visualisation....antennae not as proboscises, but as....rabbit ears
the sound of the dead channels. ... love this one
The old humming wires
have all been detached now.

When I realize how much younger
so many of today’s pundits are
I can almost understand why they
seem so certain that their strident
babbling will actually make a difference.
I made the same mistakes, yet try
to save my breath now

for conversations with dogs,
or various other animals. ... a beautiful twist, leading the poem down a contemplative, almost spiritual path
The other day, my wife caught me
talking to the spider on our arbor
as I marveled at the silky perfection 
of the trap he laid.  I wonder 
how he learned his craft. ... simple, but effective lines

Or the cardinals; how they know ... I like 'cardinals'. A nice choice of bird word
how to weave their nest.  And why ... one too many 'how's?
don’t they migrate like the other birds? .... I think 'they don't' instead of the interrogative would be better here
I have asked them.  I have not
gotten any answers, and don’t expect
I will. Yet their silence rings truer than today's
strident babbling- when more is said than done. .... from the banal to the sublime you went, but then circling back to the banal is .... banal. The poem ends at 'I will' for me.

Enjoyed the read

[Mark A Becker]

Hey all- thanks for the comments.

This is one that just popped out in less than an hour.  In light of recent events, it's my observation that the 'volume' seems to be turned up to 11 these days. I made a couple tweeks, but don't intend to workshop this one, since it's more of a statement than a poem  I'll put it in my file and let it rest for awhile.

Thanks again, Mark