Poem to a Project
Mark Miner
8-5-08

Pulled onto a project
An effort not my own
and rapidly made subject
to demands that make me groan

I do not know the context
I do not like the work
I think it is a pretext
I think it is berserk

The project has no meaning
to one outside the pale
No knowledge am I gleaning,
but "Boy, shut up and bail"

It may well be important
It's surely not for me
I'll try to be content
and see what I can see

I'll shout when it is over
I'll leap when it's long-gone
I'll roll right in the clover
But now it's dragging on.

The Denounced
Mark Miner
8-4-08

Farewell, my friend the writer,
From halfway 'cross the world
You made your darkness brighter,
Though from your homeland hurled.

Your pen now lies forgotten,
Your page is blank at last,
Your work that was begotten
Is not left in the past.

While loving home and country
Yet hating what they were,
You pierced our conscience bluntly
With what you saw occur.

Today your eyes are shuttered,
That let such horror in,
But curses you heard muttered
Still prickle up our skin.

For years we'll troll your pages
For years we'll not forget
For years we'll feel your cages
Your culprits not acquit.

Dear Sasha Solzhenitsyn,
Your name will carry on,
We will weep for what has been,
Long after you are gone.