OVERFED AND UNDER-NOURISHED

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Americans are overfed

on soft food,

pre-digested,

pre-prepared,

pre-packaged

and all but dead.

“Give me something to chew,”

they say.

Even a lie will do.

Americans have learned to

eat lies for breakfast;

for lunch and dinner, too.

They brag about feasts

empty of nutrition that builds life,

but full of calories bringing strife.

Offering such empty scenes

of family life left sorrowing,

of neighborhood crime fallowing

entire blocks within every hamlet.

Sitcoms no longer hold their attention.

“Give me something to chew on!

they demand incessantly.

A I might be their only salvation.

They have lost the patience

for solemn contemplation.

They no longer know how 

to take slower bites,

to savor a meal surrounded by family;

nor keep a schedule.

They buy modern on-the-go insanity,

even while waiting forever it seems

to order a vente-decafe-no cream.

Their jealousy at losing 

what others have not

now knows no boundaries

as they gobble up

the power that such losers corrupt.

They no longer need to chew at all.

They buy all the crap, having nothing at all.

Time to go green. Time to come clean.

Of course, we shall as soon as our screams

fade away with the plea,

“Give me something to chew on”

that is real, that is true.

Is that too much to ask of you?

Over-processed replies 

may be all we can get

from those pre-packaged politicians whose lies

overcome the silence of over-processed cowards

too scared to openly repent.

Chew slowly as lies melt in your mouth.

Lies feed nothing; cannot keep you alive.

Lies are killing a land of freedom once prized.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

DAWNING

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I have been carried over mountains

dredged in gold

by sunlight’s curve of light

as dawn unfolds

and opens her arms,

and gently releases her hold

on earth’s many charms.

The wonders of my world shift

within my sights

in bits and pieces set adrift

until I string them together like jewels

to hang around my neck

and light the darkest days ahead.

Indeed, dawn’s delights

can lighten even the darkest nights

in waking dreams sensing the coming light.

Dawn works her tentative way

across this bleak space every day.

Dawn awakens an eagerness to find my place

among other beings also lit from within.

Together, we can light the entire world.

It is dawn. We have dawned. 

It is time to begin.

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INSIDE GUESS

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My guess is as good as yours, you know.

We can argue and remonstrate as we go.

Stardust falls too easily upon the earth

where we abide, and  constantly seek rebirth.

Imagination takes us within its thrall.

Reality may not be real; not real at all.

We watch stories unfold on stage and screen

Impossible to believe what our eyes have seen.

For a moment all that exists is a creative idea,

a fantasy which draws us all near,

connects us without fear.

It coats us in fairy dust,

and so, we trust.

These moments of suspended reality

remind us of our tightly held duality.

Our starry-eyed souls try to hide inside

a body which runs open and wide,

which seeks to break free

and reach for the stars seen in dark skies.

All we really need to do is look inside.

That is where reality truly resides.

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MORNING COMES

Tomorrow will turn into today; 2025 to 2026. We will still resist negativity and embrace one another as we seek to create a more American America, fully embracing, perhaps for the first time, our Constitution and Bill of Rights. It will be more difficult than ever. But, I am hopeful it can be done because of my faith in each of you.

I am thankful to all who read by poetry, political essays and family stories. You cover the globe. Your hands reach across oceans. Your hearts embrace human kindness. Your minds seek truth. Your souls seek justice. You give me the blessing of your attention to address the problems we face. Somehow, united across the globe, such intention to do good and treat one another with mutual respect, will work miracles. We shall overcome the darkness as we enlighten each other’s lives. You enlighten mine. I thank you, dear readers. Happy New Year! A new morning comes.

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AWAITING SPRING

Classic Noru2019easter plowed up the East Coast of the United States [Detail] by NASA Goddard Photo and Video is licensed under CC-BY 2.0

The wind has ceased clearing away

old lies and false games in play.

New lies form and cling to every surface

and truth is once again surfeit.

Snow may provide pristine cover

until snow melts and we discover

one lie lies atop another.

Spring seems too far away

and each day we must wait seems unsafe.

I welcome any blowing wind that rages,

if it uncovers the millions of pages

hidden behind bureaucratic stages.

Sunlight always follows storms

which speed across a continent’s norms

and freshens the air we all breathe,

able to fill lungs eager to breathe free.

A cold wind is as good as warm.

Each wind has its own charm.

Both can clear the air and remove

what would cause us harm.

No wind today to grace 

what feels a very unsafe space.

So, I blow words across a page.

A warning wind blowing hard and truly

meant to make us all a bit unruly.

No place for Kings, I remind you.

We gather together, we too few.

Let the winds blow and harden our stance

to face and uncover lies which advance

the tyranny of greedy overlords 

who cannot stand up to truthful words.

Spring is coming, or so, I have heard told.

Until it comes, blow winds! Blow!

No matter how cold.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

THE NORTH WIND

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A fierce wind blows hard and fast

across the tundra’s frozen mass

sliding down south furious and fast

like a feisty child on a slickened slide,

adult control no longer about,

tearing across a playground 

with hearty shouts of glee –

I’m free! I’m free! I’m free!

It is a wondrous sight to see

bending, dancing trees in sway

holding tight squirrels’ nests

close to trees’ heaving chests.

The air is alive in ways we seldom see.

reminding us we, too, can be free.

We can cross the frozen, grieving miles

and dance again wreathed in smiles.

We can find a quickened pace

as wind lifts our feet into space

we once thought too weak to bear our weight.

Mother Nature reminds us of our place

in an ever-changing world whose race

to bring us safely round the sun,

with laughter, joy and fun

brings treasured moments of grace.

North wind reminds what we already know –

we….must…. just….let……….. go!

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BIRDS OF A FEATHER

I envy those still able to place words on a page.

I hesitate at what I might say to display my rage.

Silence is its own subtle, harmful, deadening cage.

I refuse to become like you – a killer 

of all that is good, all that is free, all that is true.

I refuse to become like you – a silent witness

of all that is evil, all who are held in bondage, 

all of the lies which rely upon you.

I refuse to become like you – a sycophant

in silent praise of racist, sexist, xenophobic chant

by tiny minds, fattened by greed, with tiny hands

grasping for the sacred trust, and pedophilic lust

most hide from civil and moral view.

I refuse to become you – a lost boy

in Never-Never Land, fearful and confused,

afraid to grow up, preferring to fly high

above those you believe inferior

so that you can feel superior.

I know who you are; and so, do you.

I refuse to become you; and so, extend a hand

to help you settle down upon a branch of freedom.

It is weakened; it is true.

But still strong enough

with love enough

to hold us…together.

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STRETCH

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How good is good?

How far does it stretch?

As far as a lie?

Good asks questions,

while evil denies.

Who looks stronger?

The one who seems not to know

and questions everything as it goes?

Or the one who never answers,

never pauses to reflect,

never shows another respect?

How skewed is our thinking?

How screwed are our lives?

Good reaches upward

while evil takes a dive.

How do we climb 

from such evil depths?

How good is good?

How far does it stretch?

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LONG TIME SHORT

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Time was

when we 

wondered

if we 

would be

together

tomorrow.

Now is

when we

wonder

that we

are still

together

today.

fifty-six years

is a long time

and no time

at all.

Not enough time

for those who fall

in love.

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Filed under POETRY

MAGA MINDS RACING

Getting started is the hardest.

Once begun, everyone runs

to be the first,

or at least to be 

in the crowd

that crosses the finish line

in record time.

Those left out of the race

try to keep pace

along the sidelines

never raising the question

of where they are headed,

or what they might gain.

They simply imagine

there must be a prize.

What a surprise 

to discover there is

none at all.

It was test to see

who would fall

into line.

Their pride is satisfied.

They feel superior

to those who are so inferior

they did not run at all.

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