Ben Langhinrichs

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January, 2014
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Civility in critiquing the ideas of others is no vice. Rudeness in defending your own ideas is no virtue.


Mon 27 Jan 2014, 12:21 PM
After today's Opening General Session at IBM Connect, I thought I'd reprint a poem I wrote a few years ago. Though it was not intended for this back then, today I felt that it could be rededicated to the name Notes, perhaps even Lotus Notes, as viewed by IBM:

More Lysol!

I smell the fragrance of your hair
It lingers on each downward stair.
The smell of you I cannot bear,
So I spray Lysol in the air.

You came to me to say good-bye.
“Our love is dead!” said with a cry.
I raised my fist and let it fly.
I didn’t mean for you to die.

You fell upon the hard cold floor.
I raised my fist to hit once more,
But blood showed on the dress you wore,
And then I saw you breathed no more.

I buried you beneath the ground
Back in the woods to not be found.
The trees stood witness all around
They hid your final resting mound.

But though your body lies at rest
With heavy dirt upon your breast,
The smell of you has me obsessed,
I clean as though a soul possessed.

I smell the fragrance of your hair
It lingers on each downward stair.
The smell of you I cannot bear,
I spray more Lysol in the air. 

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