"Nowadays, you can't turn on the TV without some talking head telling you about the economy. Yet, in a world overrun by 'analysts,' only one man has the guts, the brains, and, quite frankly, the poetry to put it all in perspective.That man is Michael Silverstein... Silverstein is a true intellectual." — Gersh Kuntzman, The New York Post

"Few people have found much to laugh about in the stock market this year. Michael Silverstein is the exception. The Bard of the Bourse can find humor in losing money, globalization and stock options." — USA Today

More Of What The Critics Are Saying
About Silverstein's Verse

 

There were a lot of deep water disasters in the 19th century. And because many ship captains—both naval and commercial—brought their sons or other youthful family members along when they went to sea, a lot of children died in these tragedies. Today, most people would view these children as victims of parental idiocy. Back then, however, there was a tendency to romanticize their deaths, wrap them in the mantel of noble father love, and even turn the kids into poetic heroes and heroines.

Longfellow’s "Wreck of The Hesperus" is one example of this kinky genre. And so, too, is Felicia Dorothea Hemans’ "Casabianca." This latter poem’s over-heated and breathless sentiments, astride an unrelenting gatling gun meter, made it exceptionally popular in its time. These days, however, the only lines of the poem anyone but an English professor bothers to commit to memory are its opening two:

The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled...

It was these two lines that attracted my own interest. They got me to thinking about people who won’t leave a sinking stock investment even though holding on to their shares means big financial losses. My version of "Casabianca" thus becomes "Casadebonkers."

Casadebonkers

(Or: Why it’s Sometimes Best To Cut And Run)

The man refused to sell a stock
That wiser heads had dumped.
His faith was solid as a rock
His optimism pumped.
As others headed for the door
It only made him smirk.
Some said: "He’s got an iron core,"
Most pegged him for a jerk.

With each new day the stock fell more
Its future prospects blighted.
Then came the time it hit the floor
Its CEO indicted.
Now panic spread among the ranks
Of those who still owned shares;
Except our hero, who gave thanks
For having no such fears.

He stood fast on this burning deck
His assets fast eroding,
A pris’ner of a corp’rate wreck
Too hyped to feel foreboding.
He’d artfully convinced himself
To take this long-term view:
For any stock to lead to wealth
Just stick to it like glue.

The problem with this paradigm
Our hero was to learn,
Is time and profit best align
In a collective game.
Though time may cushion shocks that maul
Portfolios diverse,
When one stock is your market all
Things oft’ work in reverse.

Now came the painful final act
That sunk our true believer.
His stock took a delisting whack
A proven non-achiever.
His gutsy cool left assets fried
His bank account much leaner;
A patience lesson misapplied
That ended at the cleaner.

*******

Poem of the Week

Past Satirical Verse

Books by
Michael Silverstein

Guest Poems

Wall Street Poet Blog

Financial Essays

Reviews of Silverstein's
Financial Verse

About the Poet

Contact

back to top