Category Archives: POLITICS

FIREHOSE OF LIES

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The firehose of lies

was no surprise.

Propaganda tries

to bind our eyes

that we can only see

distorted reality.

First the claim 

of aging incompetency,

then the firehose of lies overcomes

and brings us to our knees.

Suddenly, we panic with loud cries

Find someone who can remain on his feet

or in the election we face defeat.

Yes, President Biden stumbled trying to debate

a firehose of lie and keep things straight.

The force of the hose un-checked

was simply too great.

Instead of taking away the firehose

wielded by Trump to our government depose,

we ask another to stand in place

of the man most able and willing

save America’s world leadership place.

The firehose of lies is the disgrace,

as is the man who wields it

as he sneers and smirks

watching democracy fall on its face.

Putin, it is clear, admires Trump’s stance

laughingly watching Biden dance

as he tries to withstand, tries and tries

to awaken us all to the firehose of lies.

Instead of taking away our presidential prize,

take away the firehose of lies.

Firehosing is a propaganda tactic that involves pushing out large mounts of false and misleading information at once. The term was first applied to Russian propaganda strategies intended to silent dissent and mislead the public. Wikipedia, Jan.13, 2021. Actual use of firehoses is used in this country to silence protesters. It has been used against those Americans active in Civil Rights campaigns.

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GARDENERS LOVE NOT HATE

Photo by Andrew Neel on Pexels.com

Gardeners know they are not always going to succeed.

They depend on undependable forces to meet the garden’s need.

Too much or too little rain interferes with their success.

Too high or too low a wind can create great distress.

Too soft or too hard an animal’s tread

can destroy an entire garden bed.

Gardeners are not well kept.

Covered in mud or drenched by errant hoses,

they kneel on dirt and scrub off mulch from shredded gloves.

They look like weeds themselves

as they hoe and  and bag the uncomfortable drudge.

They know the garden they view serves as judge.

There are no debates in gardens. 

Debates serve no purpose for the gardener.

Only those who watch and stand aside and wait

feel free to judge the gardener’s flair.

They judge the gardener while breathing in fragrant air

the plants have cleaned.

They judge the gardener while relaxing on paths

the gardener’s feet have cleared.

They judge the gardener while eating crops

the gardener grew in fertile raised beds.

They stay clean while the gardener struggles to remain

on tired feet mired in mud so deep he moves more slow

at a pace they complain is way too slow.

And yet, the gardener in his wisdom carries on

to feed the spirits and bodies of those who watch his work

and share in the bounty of his grace.

Could they even try to keep apace

with the many tasks a gardener must face?

Joe, you have made our garden grow

into a thing of beauty because of all you know.

I know you cannot always compete with liars who berate

your efforts while they stand and smirk with hate.

You may not always look good these trying days.

But, you are beautiful to me in every way.

Stay in the garden of truth where weariness darkens night

and may not be pretty, but grows a garden of delight.

Photo by Andrew Neel on Pexels.com Four years later. Time for a repeat.





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KEEP ON ROLLING

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Life is a circle

which rolls back along itself

in never-ending movement,

its motion so slow

we cannot see where it goes.

But going forward it is.

It reaches goals a mile a minute,

gaining speed on downward slopes.

Only then do we notice

the movement at all.

We roll with the punches

over new terrain,

fearing any moment we may fall.

But the circle keeps on rolling,

circling from beginning to end

then back again, moving forward 

all the while, where wheels 

are allowed to move freely.

There are those whose lack

of courage and curiosity

try to put on the brakes

and stop life’s relentless spin

into the future we cannot see,

looking backward as the wheel

spins forward over and over again.

Their fear grows with each 

forward motion

drowning in an ocean

of doubt and uncertainty.

They confuse beginnings with ends.

It is difficult to see

when so small we all be.

we look right and we look left;

too small to see

a wheel as large as infinity.

But never doubt, my friends.

We keep on rolling, rolling, rolling

moving forward over and over again.

Our progressive movement

is not a fall, 

from  grace; 

we are always in

the best place;

This time is simply

a new start after all.

We shall come through

as we always do

to new places

with new faces

new beginnings

that never end

but circle on,

and on again.

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THIRTY-FOUR

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More reasons to reach 

for the alarm clock.

Defendant is in the dock.

Blaring guilt says the jury.

Still, reason to worry.

The only reason is written

on the forms, not by the fox

who has destroyed all norms.

No reason spoken

by the House Speaker,

who seeks to make law weaker.

The alarm keeps ringing

to wake us up,

beyond the nightmare

of so many corrupt.

Shut off the alarm.

Time to get up.

Time to reason and face the day

and stop the bullies 

who dream of getting their way.

Thirty-four reasons

will not go away.

Thirty-four reasons

to wake up smiling today.

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SATURDAY MORNING ON TRIAL

KRONOS/SATURN by Peter Paul Rubens , Public Domain

Saturday  morning;

dawn rises on a new day.

Saturn’s history at play

beyond ancient Rome’s sway.

We wonder if he will be made to pay

for destroying Saturnalia’s gifts.

This is no  Christian’s Christmas Day

created to hide his pagan ways.

This Saturnus is defective ,made of clay

which changes shape day after day.

Inside the gas giant on display

in the heavens worlds away

raging storms churn and flay

rallying followers 

drawn by his magnetic field

into icy rings that circle and shield

this Titan who seeks to wield

total power over the field;

not of wheat and grass and grain,

but of institutions threatened again

by fear and hate and retribution.

That is this Titan’s contribution.

He threatens every man, woman and child.

He devours even his infant son

held in his own arms but seen as a threat

to his control and power

which he worries over hour after hour.

This defective Saturn’s trials have just begun.

We wonder if courts will justice deal

before the Titan destroys all we love

because he cannot love, but only fear.

November votes bring new beginnings.

We can choose decency with heart;

choose freedom and love, or our end is near.

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FASCISM COURTS the USA

Criminal free space?

Oval Office is the place.

SCOTUS nazis say.

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WRITING ON THE WALL

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The swastika was painted on the outside gym wall.

Underneath the words

“Die, fish eaters, die.”

Anti-semitism is broad

and crosses lines

in so many ways.

Victims are sought among Jews,

Catholics, and Romany, too.

No one is excused

from the hate and need to show

that the hater is bigger, stronger,

in control of a world

they feel is out-of-control.

Seeing hate painted on my school

was frightening to see but not the end

of the feelings inside, the birth of my pride.

Cowards in the night sent me such fright.

Unleashing their hate, leashed my own.

There is no place for hate 

in my world, nor yours.

Cowards and bullies never win.

They always over-extend.

Hate destroys them from the inside, not out.

Love builds up inside their victims, then out

it flows to every other sister and brother.

What do I know?

What do I fear?

Not a swastika, nor white hood.

I fear those who refuse to do good;

who remain silent and unmoving

in the face of a racism, sexism,

anti-semitism and hate speech;

who laugh at jokes meant to harm and disarm;

who refuse to recognize the alarm

screaming in protest and marching along

streets paved with prejudice and fear.

Who see the writing on the wall

and walk away to gated communities

and streets paved with gold.

They allow the old stories to take hold.

I walk the streets where the injured gather

amid the brave souls who know what matters,

and protect those under attack.

The brave who insist we take truth and love back.

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THROUGH-LINES

Supreme Court Building 1 First by Carol M Highsmith is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0

Before amendments,

only white men could vote

under a constitution meant

to protect white male power

and their wealth to control the hour.

The hours of Women’s Labor.

The hours of Black Labor.

The hours of Asian Labor

on railroads crossing the nation

with white men’s wealth protected

in box cars, from southern fields

and northern industries.

Photo by Christian Catamo on Pexels.com

Oh, we can easily see

why Originalist judges seek

to turn back time and make weak

the power gained by women’s suffrage,

African-American civil rights fights,

and Japanese reparation gains.

Each accomplishment a refrain

against white male supremacy.

There is a through-line of meritocracy

from serfdom and caste

until at last

white men must choose 

which they love more;

their country or their power,

their countrymen or their wealth.

There is no stealth 

as they seek to regain

what they once owned.

The rest of us!

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FROM UNDER THE ROCKS

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I cried the night Barack Obama was elected President.

Tears of joy released the exhaustion 

which I had carried door-to-door

for more than a year to those who too often

defiled all courtesy and shared community 

with unrecognized racism, or even with vile threats,

as I pleaded for their vote for HOPE.

While my colleagues cheered with broad smiles

I lay my head in my arms and sobbed. 

And, when they asked why I cried

I replied

“The backlash will be fierce 

by those who now recognize that white power

is no longer strong enough to support their hate.”

It was clear my fellow citizens would not long tolerate

power in the hands of an African-American.

The rage would be unleashed and revealed

from where it had lain hidden 

within our neighborhoods and institutions.

From that day on every African-American child

born after this date would enter a world where

dreams could be fulfilled, no matter how wild.

I rejoiced at this change of perspective,

but knew this would be just too much for a nation 

whose  history was built on white male supremacy.

Two steps forward. One step back. Progress moves

on and off-track until we wonder if we must go back.

We are not going back, just reconnoitering to find a new track.

That night, I dried my tears and planned my attack

ready to fight what I knew was coming and who would lead,

those who would block our progress at every turn

willing to let the country suffer and burn,

willing to break laws and undermine elections,

threaten and attack prosecutors and judges,

willing to engage in insurrection.

They have come up from under their rocks and we can see

those who have always threatened our democracy.

We know the way forward and we are strong.

So strong they know they have lost their control and that we

are moving beyond a world where only the good ole’ boys belong.

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Think

“Anyone who has the power to make you believe absurdities has the power to make you commit injustices.” – Voltaire

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