The Storm

There was a tornado in 1993 that wiped out a whole town, and I remember thinking about what it would be like to experience that kind of tragedy. Then in 1994 there was a huge storm near Philadelphia that focused my attention back to the thoughts I had about that earlier tornado, and that prompted me to write "The Storm".

The Storm

The sky began to darken
You couldn't see the setting sun at all
The winds began to howl
And the rain began to fall.

A chill rode in upon the wind
The trees began to yield
The birds took off for shelter
Rabbits ran through the field.

The darkness gathered energy
The light did an eerie fade
From all around came howling sounds
Of distant dogs afraid.

A bright streak filled the western sky
The streetlights all went black
A momentary silence was broken
By a deafening sudden crash.

The rain started down in torrents
Streets flooded everywhere
White foam covered the sidewalks
The smell of ozone filled the air.

Somewhere in the distance
A flash of light gave warning
Reaching from the heavens
A funnel cloud was forming.

The winds then started swirling
The funnel tip touched the ground
It ripped off roofs and tore up trees
With a ghastly whistling sound.

Destruction stretched for miles
The damage toll was high
It shattered buildings in its path
And pulled them to the sky.

Then just as quickly as it formed
The funnel cloud did wane
The sky began to lighten
And drizzle replaced the rain.

A rainbow stretched from North to South
The setting sun came back in view
But the rainbow and the sunset
Were seen by very few.

Twenty lives were lost this night
Homes lost by the score
Nature's awesome fury
Left a scar forever more.

And though the losses were so large
In two years from today
All the homes will stand again
With yards where children play.

And families will rebuild their lives
And life will still go on
Folks will work from eight to five
And kids will mow the lawns.

But somewhere in a barber shop
The keeper of town lore
Will shake his head and tell about
The Storm of '94.

Steven Pein
23 July 1994
Copyright 1994
.

Starting at the bottom...

My cousin moved to New York to make it as a singer and songwriter. She's a multilingual, super intelligent college graduate, but employers in New York City are sometimes reluctant to hire folks in show business, fearing they wouldn't stay with the company after they made a name for themselves. I wrote "Starting at the bottom" just for her in an attempt to inject some humor into the struggle that she and other performing artists have to face in the Big Apple.


Starting at the Bottom

I'm starting at the bottom
A hog just feeding on slop
Trying to see
If there's room for me
Anywhere near the top

They tell me that I'm fortunate
Just to find work at all
But I spend every cent
Just paying my rent
And I hope I make it through the Fall

I told them I spoke several languages
And I've got a college degree
So they confide
That I'm too qualified
And at the bottom I'm lucky to be

I've got to be real careful
Not to mention that I like to sing
For they'd all start to worry
I was just temporary
It's some kind of New York thing

And so I do my typing
I answer the phones and I file
They hand me my check
And I think 'what the heck'
It'll only be for a while

At night I practice my singing
And play piano till my fingers ache
I spend all my time
Making music and rhyme
Just praying that I'll catch my break

Till then I need all the courage
I can beg or steal or borrow
To get past my dread
And get out of bed
Just to go to work tomorrow

Starting at the bottom
It's a life of unbearable gloom
It's a singular curse
Every day it seems worse
I just hope I get my break real soon

Steven Pein
4 September 1994
Copyright 1994
.

Life is short. Don't let distractions derail you and rob you of the things most precious in life.

I wrote "The Rain" in lyric style, hoping to coax my singer/songwriter cousin Shari to write the music one day. That hasn't happened yet. (But I can still hope.)
Boy loses girl. No, it's not really about a girl, but losing the woman you love seemed an appropriate theme to capture the way life's distractions can cost you dearly in the end.
I'll add another lyric poem in the near future, but for now I hope you enjoy this one.

The Rain

The rain flows down my window
As she slowly disappears,
I watch the taillights shimmer
Through the rain and through my tears.

I never really had a chance
To tell her what she meant,
She came and went too quickly
Like a summer flower's scent.

The rain obscures her image
As it pours down from above,
The red glow fades before me
As the taillights take my love.

I never had the time to sit
And watch the falling rain

I never had the time to tell her
How she eased my pain

I never had the time to tell her
I was glad she came

And now I've nothing left but time
I won't see her again.

I'm trying to remember life
before her but it feels,
That nowhere in my memory
was life without her real.

The bright flash of the lightning
And thunder's mighty roar,
Steal her image from my eyes
I'll hear her voice no more.

The rain flows down my window
As I watch the stormy end,
I never found the time and so
I lost my dearest friend.


Steven Pein
July 1994
Copyright 1994
.

"The Six" is my first novel.

"The Six" is a fantasy in which six adults die and are "accidentally" reincarnated with the full memory of their previous lives. But their knowledge extends a bit further. They know how to do it again and again, and that would essentially make them immortal.....or would it?
Here's the Prologue:


Jamie lay there by the side of the road covered with blood. She knew she had to flag somebody down for help, but she barely had the strength to watch the road for cars. Just getting to the main road consumed more energy than she thought was left in her tiny body. She reflected on the past two hours. She was lucky to be alive and she knew it.
In the serenity of her exhaustion, her mind drifted back through her past. She thought about the six diverse souls that fate had thrown together. For the first time in her life she wondered what their lives had been like. Despite all she had learned about them, she realized that she knew very little about the kind of people they were. She wondered if they had looked forward to getting up in the morning? What did they do in their spare time? Did they have hobbies? What kind of movies did they like? Did they believe in God?
A bus driver, a lawyer, a housewife, a farmer,... How did their families and friends deal with their deaths? Jamie paused at that thought. It struck her as so ironic that their loved ones probably grieved over their deaths. Would they have grieved if they had known what really happens after people die?...

Headlights glared in Jamie’s eyes. She tried to prop herself up on one elbow so she could signal with her free hand. The car was only a tenth of a mile down the road and it was coming fast. She managed to shift her weight over to her right side and wave her left arm. The car raced by and the taillights disappeared behind her.
This wasn’t going to work. She was just too small to be seen. In one painful effort she forced herself into a sitting position, drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. She hoped it would be easier for a passing motorist to spot her sitting up. She drifted back to her reflections...

Death was a strange thing, wasn’t it? People spent their whole lives fearing it. Wouldn’t it be different if they knew the truth about death?... No! Maybe it wouldn’t be so different. After all, hadn’t she herself felt the fear of death only an hour or so ago? But why? It made no sense to her. Was it because death would foil her mission? Was it because of her own human weaknesses?
Fate had played such a bizarre trick on the six. How could things have gone so wrong? They never asked to bear the burden of their forbidden knowledge; it was just thrust upon them. She wondered what kind of torment they must have known as they tried to deal with it.
A weird thought crossed Jamie’s mind. She realized that every fiber of her existence was entangled with the six. She couldn’t help but wonder what life would have been like for her if Oren had lived. Then again, if he had, she knew she would never have known it. Even stranger was the realization that she wouldn’t even be Jamie if it weren’t for the actions of the six.

Headlights again! She waved her arm as wildly as she could... Please let them see me! Please!.. The car slowed down and pulled over on the shoulder a hundred feet past her. The driver got out and ran back to see what was wrong.
“Jesus!” he exclaimed. “Are you all right, sweetheart? What happened to you? You’re covered with blood.”
“I’m okay. Can you please take me to a telephone?”
He cringed at the thought of her blood-soaked body staining the upholstery of his brand new car. Besides, there was something terribly wrong here.
“Just wait right here, honey. I’ll run down the road and call for help. Are you injured? Where did all that blood come from?”
Jamie couldn’t face the idea of telling the story to him and then having to tell it all over again to the police. She just needed him to summon help.
“I’ll be okay,” she assured him. “Just go ahead and get help. Please hurry!”
He ran back to his car and sped away. Jamie watched as the car disappeared from view. She felt a sense of relief knowing that help would soon be on the way.
She wasn’t certain how much time had elapsed before the police arrived. She must have dozed off.
“Don’t move, dear,” the husky voice warned. “An ambulance is on the way. Where are you hurt?”
Her eyes opened to the sight of a policeman kneeling over her. Somehow she was lying on her back, but she didn’t remember being moved.
“I’m okay,” she insisted. “I need to call home.”
A flashlight beam blinded her momentarily and she raised her arm to shield her eyes.
“Don’t, Paul,” the policeman urged his partner. “Just turn on the headlights of the car. And see what’s taking that damned ambulance so long.”
A moment later everything was bathed in light. The second policeman returned and looked Jamie over from head to toe while he reported to his partner.
“The ambulance is a couple minutes away, Joe. Say, I think I recognize her. Aren’t you Jamie Meyers?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“The APB?” Joe asked Paul.
“Yeah,” Paul answered. “I’ll call it in right now.”
The sound of the siren was audible. A minute later the paramedics were on the scene.
“What have we got here?” one of them asked while shining a small light into Jamie’s eyes.
“I’m fine,” Jamie protested. “I don’t want an ambulance. I just want to call home.”

Steven Pein
Copyright 1995

Outside the Lines

My folks always demanded perfection. They made me feel like I was a disappointment to them if I didn't get the highest grades in school. It soon transformed me into a competitive "machine" and I felt that being second was the same as being last. It probably played a big role in my career choices. I always felt driven to climb as close to the top of the corporate world as I could. But I was never happy.
Now that I'm an old guy, I can look back and see how important it is for parents to encourage their kids to do the best they can, but parents must also temper it with love, understanding and (most of all) the acceptance of the child just the way they are and for who they are. That's what "Outside the Lines" is all about.


Outside the Lines

When I was three they bought me
Some crayons and a book,
But I could never show them
That I had what it took.

It looked so very simple,
Those pictures of all kinds,
But every time I colored,
I went outside the lines.

Mom and Dad could do it with
The greatest of all ease,
And I would try so very hard,
I wanted so to please.

I'd go upstairs and practice
in my room and close the door,
Just me, my little coloring book,
And my box of twenty-four.

When I turned four my coloring
Was still not very great,
The difference was I colored with
A box of forty-eight.

I'd square off with a blank page,
And a crayon gripped so tight,
But hard as though I tried to,
I couldn't get it right.

Those lines became obsessive and
I practiced more and more,
They bought me bigger coloring books,
And a box of sixty-four.

When I turned five they sent me
To the Kindergarten class,
Where coloring was graded and
I knew I had to pass.

I buckled down and tried so hard
To be the very best,
I never crossed a single line,
I beat out all the rest.

So I brought home my masterpiece,
And Mom permitted me,
To post it on the Frigidaire
For all the world to see.

My perseverance paid off, but
When all was said and done,
The coloring was work to me,
It never was much fun.

So if your child's starting on
A task for his first time,
Let him know it's okay if
He goes outside the lines.

Steven Pein
March 1993
Copyright 1994
.

A boy needs a dog.

I wasn't allowed to have a dog when I was a kid. Don't make the same mistake my folks made. Here's why....

A Special Friend

Every boy should have a dog
When he is growing up,
A trusty, loyal, furry pal
He raises from a pup.

Other pets can be okay,
And even kind of neat,
But dogs are really best for boys,
The others can't compete.

Cats are much too finicky,
And they won't fetch a stick,
In fact you hardly ever see
A cat that does a trick.

Hamsters on those squeaky wheels
Can keep you up all night,
It's cute the way they stuff their cheeks,
But sometimes hamsters bite.

Parakeets are colorful,
And some of them can talk,
But you can't put a leash on them
And take them for a walk.

Goldfish only swim around,
They won't come when you call,
In fact, when you get down to it,
They're hardly pets at all.

Now think of how a dog behaves
Compared to all the rest,
There absolutely is no doubt,
A dog is really best.

His wagging tail and loving licks
And sleeping on your bed,
Then lying back for belly rubs
And scratching of his head.

His face outside the window
When he's going for a ride,
The way he brings his leash to you
To say "Let's go outside!"

And how he can communicate
Without a single sound,
The special way he lets you know
He's glad that you're around.

So if you have a little boy,
I highly recommend,
You get the boy a puppy
Just to be his special friend.


Steven Pein
April 1993
Copyright 1994
.

A lesson about monsters.

Did your parents tell you that monsters weren't real? They were wrong. I wrote Monsters to help children and parents understand the truth about monsters.

Monsters

Monsters are mysterious,
There really is no doubt,
They come and go so quickly,
They're hard to figure out.

They're never in your closet,
Or underneath your bed,
But somehow when you're sleeping,
They get inside your head.

If you wake up screaming,
Your parents always say,
Back to bed, you're safe now,
The monsters went away.

How can monsters be there,
Then simply disappear,
Surely they go someplace,
But you can't figure where.

Parents can't appreciate
How puzzled you may feel,
Press them and they'll tell you
That monsters aren't real.

Though parents may deny it,
And though they may insist,
Take it from an expert
That monsters do exist.

Monsters can elude you
Through searches far and wide,
Because they never really leave,
It's in your head they hide.

The trick is learning how to deal
With having them inside you,
For everyone it's different,
But let me try to guide you.

Denying their existence
Can never work for long,
And never try to fight them,
'Cause monsters are too strong.

The way to deal with monsters,
And really do it right,
Is find a way to stop them
From scaring you at night.


Steven Pein
April 1993
Copyright 1994
.

Let's get started...

As a dry run, we'll try a couple of poems that were inspired by my younger sister.

FORKS
A three pronged fork exemplifies
The funny way we speak,
Why is it called a fork at all,
It should be called a threek.

DESSERT
Eat your dinner or get no dessert,
I never quite understood,
Why you have to eat something bad
Before you eat something good.


Steven Pein
April 1993
Copyright 1994
.

The beginning

I'm starting out fresh on January 24, 2010 with my blog. This will be the beginning of my story. The story has many parts, and I promise to try my best to make it interesting and enlightening.