Category Archives: POETRY

THE PROMISE OF YOUTH


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This is what you say:
What experience do you have?
This is what they hear:
You will never get a job.
This is what they think:
How can I get experience 
if no one hires without it?


This is what you say:
What income and collateral have you?
This is what they hear:
I cannot get a small-business loan.
This is what they think:
No one will hire me and I cannot 
start a business of my own.


This is what you say:
Your college loans are over-due.
This is what they hear:
We are going to ruin you.
This is what they think:
I cannot get a job or a loan.
Guess I must move back home.


Failure never felt so certain
to the young Americans
who believed with such purpose
that it would be possible to get ahead.
Now, too many live in dread.
And way too many
wish they were dead.


Is this the America we want?
Is this the America we were promised?
What folly has greed wrought?
What tax system created this rot ?
That only those with wealth
can exercise their rights
to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.


Youth have eyes open wide,
open to all that seems new.
The aged close their tired eyes
hoping nothing at all will change.
But, the aged and their folly shall pass.
America’s promise shall be renewed,
as sure as day follows night.


Vote as if the lives of the young 
depend upon you doing what is right.
Because, their lives depend upon you.
They most assuredly do.


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LEAD WITH THE HEART

Lead with the heart

and the mind will follow

a path of peace and hope,

strong enough to carry

dreams and generosity

for all those you meet.

No matter how difficult

the journey it will not be taken

alone, silently, fearfully.

The heart knows best what matters.

The heart knows the best path.

The heart unites us joyfully.

The heart beats life determinedly.

The heart overcomes strife.

Lead with the heart and do your part

to create a world worth living.

Some paths are famous and large.

Some paths are unrecognized and small.

Every path matters to those

who walk it and make it their own.

Every path converges as we move

into the great unknown.

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BACK TO THE GYM

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Most of us have been away from the gym too long.

Our freedom-loving muscles have grown slack.

We had not fully recognized the slack.

Others noted the weakness

of our democratic body.

We went about our day aware that each act

became more difficult, more strenuous.

Success became less assured, more tenuous. 

While we grew soft, life grew hard.

We could no longer lift our children above our heads.

Their safety could not be assured;

not only on the playground monkey bars,

but behind their desk, or sitting in church pews.

Even our voices became more feeble

as we stopped the exercise of free speech,

and bemoaned the simple act 

of marching down the street.

But others watched and saw our weakness grow.

Knew we were no longer paying attention

to our former strength and ignoring our work-outs,

while we flaunted more the medals on our chests

and the trophies on our shelves.

We no longer recalled how we earned those awards.

We forgot the daily struggle at life’s gymnasium

to keep the muscles of self-governance

strong enough  to take on new challenges and ideas.

Our weakness made us run from, instead of with,

others racing along the path to freedom.

We envied their success, our own no longer moving

us forward and ahead.

The only way the weak can win is by holding others back.

The truly strong can win by running hard and long.

We all looked away from those who cheat

to claim a win they do not deserve.

It feels too close to every nerve

now weakened within each lax muscle; 

a republic struggling just to stay upright.

Religion becomes the panacea of anxious nights.

We can only hope our muscle-memory

of freedoms gained in the past

is strong enough to make our democracy last.

Back to the gym. Walk the streets. Shout the speech

that you recall in memory grown weak.

Build back the muscle needed to wield your voting power.

Now is the hour 

to get back to the gym.

Be strong and carry on!

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BALANCE OF POWER

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Nature restores balance

upset by human hands

on air and sea and land.

Government becomes unbalanced

when leaders fail to understand

no government can serve us

when controlled by a single man.

No single party can control

a seamless governance of the whole.

Power unbalanced is doomed to fail.

History and Nature tell the tale.

Diversity is the golden rule of life,

counteracting hidden strife

as it strives to interact and share

what keeps the planet alive and fair,

what makes us glad to be alive.

Cooperation is not just wise.

It is the seed of all that grows.

It is the only means Nature knows

to grow the wheat and the rose,

to water the farmland and dry the bog,

to cool summer heat and fire winter’s log,

to spread seeds on the breeze of dawn

and weight the wind blowing too strong.

We have run away from Nature far too long.

We have forgotten to listen to Nature’s song.


We have been singing a discordant tune

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to instruments so loud, the song is ruined.

But Nature always restores balance.

It is the base note of Nature’s parlance.

Take off your shoes and walk in the grass.

Feel the freedom you feared lost in the past.

Turn your face into the wind and hold tight.

Feel the freedom you feared lost beyond your sight.

Wade in puddles catching raindrops on your tongue.

Feel the freedom you feared lost and with hands wrung.

We fear we have no way to save our nation.

But Nature gives us a new generation

every spring and through every season

Nature restores our world and our reason.

Balance of Power is the song of the hour.

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MAGA CIRCUS

MAGA CIRCUS

The clown leads the circus parade

Following the elephant ahead,

Carrying shovels to clean up the way,

And invite us under the tent.

The clown interrupts each display

Of circus performers’ great feats.

The clown make us laugh to distraction

And keeps us in our seats.

The clown is what we best recall,

For memories are short.

We may not remember what we see.

But, we remember how hard we laughed.

The circus is not a school to teach.

The circus is a business to empty our pockets

Until it once more moves on.

The circus is not a church where we pray.

But a place we feel it is okay to play.

When the tent stakes are pulled and the circus train pulls away

All that remains is an empty field

Trod into mud on rainy days.

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SLEEP

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Bodies and words awake at 4 a.m.

have no respect for the woman I am.

A review of conscience 

is all well and good.

It reminds me of all that I should.

But, forgets who I am

and that I am doing 

all that I could,

and not doing 

all that I would

if I were not who I am.

Too tired, too little, too late, 

thoughts fly sky high

as life passes me by.

Two women sit here together,

the me and the I.

One who knows her self, 

a self which few surmise.

The other one who shares

her thoughts, to her surprise.

No rest this dark night.

Tomorrow comes with the light.

I sit in the darkness

and wait for the sun to rise.

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MISSING YOU

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Your touch breathes life

imparting energy

gathered from the stars

shining in your eyes;

heat from the closest star,

our sun, through you,

warms my heart.

Too long apart 

without your touch

my skin grows cold.

Breath tightens its hold.

Life has no meaning nor

great story to be told.

Missing you becomes a safe

where love is kept for dreaming.

I climb inside its darkened space

to calm my desperate yearning.

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THE AGE OF PRETEND

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We find it charming, not alarming,

when children pretend.

The young boy child,

towel tied beneath his chin

and spread across small shoulders

waves an imaginary sword high

and suddenly feels bolder;

his power felt from head to toe,

ready to defeat any foe.

The young girl child,

Her American Girl doll in tow,

and dressed for the next chapter

she reads in her book which will show

how she can claim her place

in a world within her safe space.

It is a world of their own.

Children too often feel alone.

Childhood play is a godsend

when the acceptance of fear

is boldly met by playing pretend.

It does not stop at adulthood

when we need  for ourselves to fend

and parents’ efforts subside

as children claim adult pride.

Adults, too, need a reprieve

from threats vaguely perceived.

The woman alone in her bed

seeking a strong chest 

upon which to lay her head,

clutches her pillow instead

to lessen her dread.

She seeks a strong arm

to lessen her alarm.

The man alone on his couch,

in front of the TV, leaps from a crouch 

and shouts with untamed glee

when the quarterback throws free

and the opponent is defeated,

the pass completed.

The victory becomes his own.

At every age we pretend

to overcome what we fear,

what we do not feel strong enough to overcome,

what we imagine might cause unknown harm,

what we cannot imagine we can handle alone.

We are never, really, fully grown.

We fear we shall always be denied

the connected love our hearts need most.

We pretend the pride which allows us to hide.

What if, we stopped pretending?

What if we reached out for community?

What if we sought requited love in unity?

We live in an age of pretend.

When and where will it end?

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INSOMNIA

Sleep catches me unaware

Reading in my chair.

A loud noise as a commercial airs

Awakens me from nightmares.

No, it is the news that intrudes

On waking dreams sharp and crude.

I have been awake more than I knew

Unable to tell what is untrue or true.

And so, I read some more

Of an entire reality to explore.

I try hard to understand and accept

A new reality in a democracy kept

Captive without due process of law

Which exposes all of our flaws.

Racism breathes deep and still

With a long-ignored strong will.

We too easily pretend

it has nothing to do with us, my friend.

Lie once and it becomes then

easier to lie again and again.

And we have lied for centuries now.

Shame beads sweat on every brow.

Cognitive dissonance

Makes us create distance

From truth, facts and connection.

Shamelessness offers protection.

Too many are willing to deny

What is clear to the clear-eyed.

I see no end in sight

And remain sleepless night after night.

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THUS ANGELS

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Angels surround you

though you know aught and care less.

No matter at all.

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