Partial Observer

The Black Dog of Depression

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Empathizing with those who have it

The house pet Winston Churchill had
would drive him to the brink
He called the beast he walked each day Black Dog.
It bit him fairly often
and would leave him prone to tears
while calling out in heartfelt prayer to God

Abe Lincoln also knew these bites.
They forced him to his knees
Depression robbed him of his peace of mind
The demons of discouragement
possessed him to the end
You can see their traces in his forehead lines.

Black Dog’s sharp teeth have bitten me.
I know the pain they cause.
The dark clouds of depression hid the light.
I withered in the darkness
without words to voice my grief
as I stumbled in the never-ending night.

Only those who’ve known this torture
can relate to such despair.
Depression’s victims share a common plight.
But, thank God, there is an answer
in both therapists and prayer
and the Healer who helps lead us to the light.

* Churchill referred to his depression as “the black dog.” Why not do a web search for famous people who battled clinical depression? I “hit the wall” in 1991 but benefited from a helpful therapist, a praying wife, a supportive congregation and a faithful God.

There She Stands, Miss America

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Remembering Lady Liberty on Independence Day

There’s a lady in a harbor
I have loved since I was young
and I’m grateful that she holds a torch for me.
She stands tall and, oh so, graceful.
What she stands for won my heart.
May I introduce you to sweet Liberty?

She was there at Ellis Island
when my grandfather arrived
with a dream to take America by storm.
And he blushed to see her beauty
as she whispered of her love
and the purposes for which he had been born.

She remains there for his offspring
to assure us we are free
to pursue the goals that motivate us most.
Lady Liberty is ageless
holding up her lantern high
as if calling on the world to hear her toast.

To the young and to those older,
to the straight and to the gay
this dear woman offers equal rights for all.
It’s the freedom that we cherish
to live out what we believe
even though our critics think it “off the wall.”

Miss America, I love you.
What you guarantee is mine.
Your bright flame lights up the night and darkest day.
But I’ve come to see your freedoms
aren’t intended just for me
for the liberty you stand for cuts both ways.

Holy Marriage, Full of Grace

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Somber reflections on the Supreme Court ruling

Holy marriage, full of grace
(sealed by vows and Your embrace)
has been trampled underfoot
by five justices.

Lord, have mercy on our land
as we nullify Your plan
redefining what is right
in the name of love.

Jesus, Joseph, Mary please
bring our nation to its knees
lest we fall beneath the judgment
of Your righteous hand.

Unexpected Death

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

It’s the godfather of all grief

You have heard Tony Soprano
is no longer in the choir.
His voice has unexpectedly been stilled.
All his stunned fans can’t believe it
as they start to sing the blues.
Tony leaves behind big shoes that can’t be filled.

Yes, when death blindsides a loved one
who seemed healthy and so young,
it derails our peace of mind and feels so wrong.
Like a mafioso hit man,
grief is brutal and unkind
as it strangles joy and silences our song.

Unexpected death’s a killer
for it rocks you to the core.
There’s no bracing for the heartbreak that it brings.
Still, faith dulls the sting of sorrow
as it drills down deep for hope
where the peace and grace of God forever springs.

* http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/james-gandolfini-portrayed-tony-soprano-dies-51/story?id=19441746

A Tribute to the High School Band Director

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

The Mr. Hollands in our lives deserve an opus

With your music stand a pulpit,
your baton a shepherd’s staff,
you led your students daily
with stern words and belly laughs.

Yes, you modeled truth through music
by the way you loved the kids
as they looked to you for answers
lest they end up on the skids.

With marching band your metaphor
you helped each section see
just how to work together
and to be a family.

Like Richard Dreyfus’ Holland
you invested in the young
and the dividends you’re earning
is success’s highest rung.

Mr. A, you’re most successful
for the music you have made
echoes far beyond the band room.
It’s an ongoing parade.

Marking time or earning millions,
those you taught (now fully grown)
march through life most confidently
making “music” of their own.

* This tribute was written for Steve Accatino. I first met “Mr. A” exactly 30 years ago when our family moved to the Bay Area. Last week Steve retired from Ygnacio Valley High School where he has been the band director for thirty-three years. High school band directors are a much-loved breed. I kept in touch with mine for thirty years until Mr. Huber prematurely died of a brain tumor. (If you never play in a high school band, you need to watch “Mr. Holland’s Opus.” That inspirational movie will clue you in!)