THE WAY TO PEACE

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Even if I could

give you peace

I am not certain I would.

Struggle breaks apart

and shreds the comfortable ways

we hold in our hearts.

Discomfort makes us let go

of ideas held taut by thick skins.

It make us eager to run to and fro

to shake off the pain and instead

become free to fly beyond

the old ideas lodged in our heads.

I would not have you wait for permission

to embrace the battle inside.

I would have you take over the mission

to set fear and pride aside.

True peace only arrives

when our hearts are torn asunder,

and we discover

what makes us truly alive.

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GAZA

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Shooting fish in a barrel

is not a noble act

No courage required.

No reasoned plan needed.

No applause sincerely given

to endorse fisherman’s creed

to take only what you need.

Fish have no ideology

written on their fins.

The fisherman cannot identify

which fish carries the tale

of Hamas attacks and hate.

Yet, all fish must share their fate?

Revenge, I understand,

in heated moments lost in pain.

But cold calculation

with no disassociation

between guilt and innocence

simply makes no sense.

But, when did war ever

protect the innocent ?

When did war ever set free

those who had no part

in hateful perfidy ?

Shooting fish is never pretty.

But, this ? This ?

Shooting fish in a barrel

with no chance of escape

can never be explained.

Find a way to peace

or take the gun away.

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BORN IN THE USA

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Being born in the USA

does not make me better.

It makes me luckier.

Winning the lottery

brings euphoria.

Sharing the winnings

brings me satisfaction.

That is love in action.

My question is always

one taught me by JFK.

Not, “what can my country 

do for me?”.

But, “what can I do 

for my country?”

The only way

to make America better

is to remind myself

I do not matter

more than any other 

American, immigrant

or refugee.

I do not matter 

more than any other

African, Asian, Latino

nor European.

Each of us hopes to be free.

Each of us has our own journey.

Some of us are luckier than others.

All of us are sisters and brothers.

My country is better

when I am better, kinder, truer

to the home of the brave

and the land of the free

where democracy demands

I stay on guard against those

who would embrace autocracy.

This is what America asks of me.

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COYOTE

The coyote leapt

over the stubbled grass hedges

along the pond’s edge.

Silent single goose

stares silently in stillness

on the rocky ledge.

Each day the numbers

dwindle among empty nests

where Spring and geese mourn.

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THROUGH-LINES

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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.

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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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THE BATTLE IS ON

Do not drag me through the mud with you.

No matter what you say,

the fight will be down and dirty.

I know.

I have had to fight this way.

I will be beside you to comfort you.

I will not get in your way.

I am yours and you are mine.

Our fights are all our own.

We cannot our hands entwine

or the battle will be blown.

I will walk across the muddy field

and stay ready to lift you up.

But only you can wield the sword

so you may soon lift victory’s cup.

I will wash the mud from your face.

I will hose you down when needs must.

I shall trod the muddy field apace.

I will not make a fuss.

I have every faith you will succeed.

For, I believe in 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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THE THIEF

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Chronic pain is a thief 

which stalks every bone and muscle

including the skull and brain

locking the flow across every sinew

of blood’s strength to reign

with ease and grace

across interstitial space.

Legs and pelvis lock in place

and the body can no longer race

along the path around the ponds.

Knees can no longer bend

to rest upon the earth and pull the weeds

nor plant the seeds

where the garden should grow.

Pain even steals words from where they reside 

within the brain’s locked space

where dreams can no longer take hold

since sleep is stolen leaving behind

only grief and disgust at losses too great to abide.

The theft is its worst upon the face

where smiles are forced to hide

behind grimaces and half-closed eyes.

Laughter is the only relief to frozen space.

A sense of humor is the fiercer power

relieving pain hour after hour.

The deeper the laugh the looser the lock

that pain has placed upon the body clock.

Time passes with the pain as laughs invade

the place where pain thought to remain.

Laugh at pain and watch it rush,

pushed away by jokes and a comic crush.

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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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HOLY SATURDAY

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Time hangs suspended in the tomb,

rolled back behind a solid stone

chasing thoughts away

of what occurred yesterday.

Shrouded in a mystery

foretold by history

evil reaches across the space

where fearing loss of power

the great losers rage by the hour.

We helped create our own purgatory,

where all we do is worry

rather than embrace the true reality

we not so suddenly face.

We must roll away the stone

and bring truth home;

look at what we have done

and what we have failed to do.

The stillness of this day must renew

a strength we once embraced with pride.

Now we cower and we hide.

Are we so fearful and so weak

we dare not take a peak

into our shaking souls to see

the selves we have come to be?

Only we. Only we. Only we

becomes our litany.

Only we can stop the hate

that acts upon the institutions

we must rely upon

to uphold law and seek justice

to protect all of us

and this country we proclaim to be

the seat of freedom and democracy.

We must open up our eyes

and roll away the lies

that block this holy space

where salvation will arise.

Vote away the hate.

it is not too late.

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