MEMORIAL DAY

Another morn to mourn,

turned celebration.

Will we one day celebrate

School Shooting Day ?

Or maybe NRA Day?

How can we play 

on such a solemn day?

Shared memory is great

but a hot dog on a paper plate

should not take precedence

over remembrance

of what this day is for.

A day to study war no more

thanks to soldiers who gave

their all to their graves,

to save us from more days like this.

Today’s war goes unannounced

by fearful citizens who hate 

the way they feel, 

intimidated by the success 

of those they thought to best.

So they don a Kevlar vest

and in camouflage dress

tote weapons of war

inside the door

of churches, synagogues, mosques,

schools, businesses, and grocery stores.

Name-calling as in any war

has become de riguer.

So-called Libtard Nazis who see no threat

in people of color, women and gender choice

are the latest gooks and towel heads.

War leaves a nasty taste in place

of citizenry and mutual respect.

So-called patriots ignorant of our history

ignore the blood of our honored dead

buried in poppied fields or unknown tombs.

They fight for white supremacy instead

of a country dedicated to the proposition

all men are created equal 

as its starting position. 

They seek to stop the race

to a more perfect union

by destroying the communion

of patriots future and past.

How long will such travesty last?

Leave a comment

Filed under POETRY

Second Amendment

The conception that unrestricted gun ownership is guaranteed by the 2d. Amendment is a false idea. from discussions recorded by those present as the Constitution was being approved and amendments voted upon indicate that the 2d. Amendment’s purpose was to allow for militias. Our militia SYSTEM is controlled by governors of each state, allowed to arm their citizens in a National Guard, under the federal government’s authority. It had nothing to do with an individual right to bear any and all arms. It was enacted to allow for state militias. Governments-local,state-federal can restrict individual gun purchases, manufacture, and ownership. The idea they cannot do so was constructed by the NRA only recently to improve gun sales, (think of the payoffs ),to sow dissension (funded by Russia), and to uphold white supremacy and control African-Americans who had gained the right to vote and gained more power after the Civil Rights Movement.  Fear of people of color is ingrained in white Americans.  This is a tool to manipulate us. Also, as immigrants  from white Europe declined and immigrants of color increased NRA played on the fear of white Americans. Gun sales shot up. The Republican Party which in recent history opposed civil rights for African-Americans, affirmative action, integrated schools etc. embraced the NRA’s position to advance an agenda which would protect Republican vote and control of the levers of government. NRA funds support these republicans, and a few democratic politicians also accepting the easy money. 

Take a moment to think about this and connect the dots. Our children should not be pawns for this white supremacy agenda. Look at the position on guns by candidates at EVERY level. Those claiming they can not do anything about gun regulation because of the 2d Amendment are liars. Vote them out. Always ask them their position on the 2d amendment. If they lie about that they are lying about a lot more. I am on my knees begging like Sen. Chris Murphy, “save our children.” Do not let white supremacy destroy the safety a single person. Do not stand by and silently watch. speak with your friends and colleagues. Beg them if necessary. 

Leave a comment

Filed under COMMENTARY, POLITICS

PATTERNS ET.AL.

PATTERNS

Patterns tell stories

usually hidden from view.

Each morning I rise

and pick up my pen,

put it to paper

to see what thoughts

descend.

Today, a series of thoughts

seem attuned to one another.

Four poems gathered

but refused to do more

than make me yearn

for words to return

and tell a story

to help me learn

something.

Anything.

Perhaps putting them in a row

will eventually show

what they are trying to tell me.

so, here, I go.

SAVED  BY THE GARDEN

Saved again by the Garden.

Its views extend my own.

Who knows what will become

of the seeds I have sown.

Better to focus on new life

than to reflect on the old.

RUNAWAY

Hurry to the table.

Pick up the pen.

Let thoughts descend

before I pick up a comb,

wash  my face,

or even get dressed.

The words run off

too fast for any of that.

I struggle to catch the words

before they are lost

in mundane tasks.

Today, I was too slow.

DISAPPEARING ACT

Where do words go

when they run from me?

To another poet?

To another essayist?

Are they too uncomfortable to tell 

the truths I know so well?

Is the runner the words, 

or is it I who run 

away from words ?

LOST DREAM

A blast of cold air

swept over the sheets

and awakened me too soon

before the dawn

grew bright enough 

to see within the darkened room.

I could not see  the words today.

I only felt the cold and felt bereft

that the dream had gone.

Leave a comment

Filed under POETRY

THE UKNOWN KNOWN

Photo by Keenan Constance on Pexels.com

I just did not know.

Not everyone 

thinks at the same rate,

sees as deeply or wide,

looks for each new thing,

embraces the unknowable.

Seeking the unknown

quickly, deeply, widely, freely

without knowing 

this is so

means exploring life 

alone. 

just 

did 

not 

know.

Leave a comment

Filed under POETRY

LETTING GO

Carrying away the day in buckets of lost dreams

is a waste of good time and makes 

the compost pile scream.

Waiting in the wings are characters

preparing the next act with useless tact.

Who knows what adventures lie ahead for those

willing to drop the text and pretext of prose

to bring the old play to a close?

For those starting the next chapter

with brave and honest laughter

in a new script meant to convey

a future of happy possibilities,

despite life’s fragilities, all is good.

Right now. This time.This day.

Stand and bow to applause

just as you should.

Now, get off the stage and live.

Leave a comment

Filed under POETRY

KILLING OUR CHILDREN

The garden is awash in earths tears, 

unleashed by climate change fears,

carried on gusts of wind beating down

on an already soaked ground

where drenched petals now lie spent.

The sky cried for days, nothing really new.

But now she cries for others, too;

not only herself as her rhythms are torn loose.

She cries for miles of wounded souls

across America’s fields of woe

as Americans try to cope with the pain

of children ignored, wounded and slain.

Guns locked and loaded against all

who are not white men with moneyed eyes

which blind their view of progressive skies

opened to all that is bright and new;

like children who seek to grow up wise,

appreciating every new experience

as an exploration of greater happiness.

Even childlike innocence is not enough 

to save the lives of little ones

when war is waged by hopeless men

preyed upon by sellers of guns

who magnify phony fears for profit

and ratings and votes.

Earth and I have come undone,

hopes dampened by clouds of tears

hiding the sun. Each child a flower

mown down, unable to run to safety.

Not one.

Not a single one.

Leave a comment

Filed under POETRY

OLD FRIENDS ARE THE BEST FRIENDS

When was the hour 

the garden gained power

to teach life’s lesson of love

that one could recover its loss?

1993 was the year.

Each moment held dear.

The Waterford Tower

ended homelessness

when friendship shared

a dwelling of peace and safety

after illness took my career.

Who knew the fraud of success is real

where friendships are concerned?

Positional power has no hold

on false friendships born daily anew.

Personal power takes energy to maintain,

more than CFIDS allowed.

The oldest friends remained.

Love untarnished, contained

year after year through our play.

Like perennial flowers they sustained me. 

Their roots planted wide, firm and deep.

Annuals come and go with the sun.

Flashier and more colorful, perhaps;

but unable to fulfill winter’s need

to dig down deep beneath winter’s chill

until sunny days of Spring restore

all that one once hoped for.

Old friends flower in my garden.

Old friends remain on cold days of change.

Old friends stay the course until the end.

1993 was only the beginning 

of planting my feet in old soil,

among old friends.

Leave a comment

Filed under POETRY

spit, curse, vote

the tears of curses caught by chance 

for surely I lack strength to hold

back the words I would spit out

at those who sigh platitudes 

and sow doubt at what I see

not before my eyes

such sights are hidden

lest we become so enraged

they can no longer play their game

they hide the view of truth

to soothe and tame

the beast I would become

should I be witness to what I cannot abide

the bullet riddled bodies 

of tiny children who have died

not in a mass casualty event as reported

but in mass murder by weapons of war

a war we make on our own children

to allow white supremacists to intimidate

and breed fear in churches, groceries and schools

until it is too late 

to stop the tide of fratricide

on every street in America

where bullies roam free on the backs

of states rights instead of holding firm

to embrace and uphold the Constitution

and claim superiority to hold power and deny

free speech to those who disagree

in patriotic peaceful assembly

while they bring their guns and weapons

to rallies and threaten

to destroy free society and democracy.

It is all of a piece connecting dots

displaying their duplicity in idiocy.

While our children are taught

how to avoid being killed at their desks.

I cannot write poetry which calmly states

the facts when all I want to say

is vote those guys out who refuse

to keep our children safe.

It is the least we can do,

the very lest.

Leave a comment

Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

WHY ?

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

We carry our load down the road.

What for? Where? Why?

After awhile, our feet simply move on their own.

No direction necessary for places unknown.

No reason necessary to carry

what is placed in our hands and across our backs.

Our only focus now is to stay on track.

We could not look back if we tried.

The load would shift and slide.

Past effort would all be wasted.

We tack on a smile only pasted

from memories of those we pass on our way.

We trudge on day after day.

Still the question lingers, “But, why?”

No religion, nor ideology, nor philosophy given

has truly answered that question. Curiosity riven.

We simply carry our loads.

Then, we die.

So then, why ask “Why”?

Leave a comment

Filed under POETRY

IN THE GARDEN WITH FRIENDS

It is not just the poppy that addicts.

All flowers do to those 

who make gardens grow.

Over rocky , stubbled fields

replacing weeds with scented folds

of roses petaled

in circled fashion we all know.

Flowers call our names

even when we know not theirs,

from rows and rows and rows

of nurseried plants shouting aloud

“Take me home. Take me home!”

So many languages flowers speak.

Gardeners yearn to learn them all,

each one part of a diverse melody

which sings a siren’s song.

The garden is a symphony

of chords and rhythms strong

enough to carry feet along 

new paths from dawn to dusk

to worlds unknown beyond.

Strong enough to lift up all 

who wander through the varied colors,

kissed by bees and butterflies

taking us along on a joyous ride

to the one place for which we long.

A place of unity and uncommon beauty

freed from wilderness, our wildness tamed;

and fear buried beneath the soil

where it belongs.

Like flowers, in gardens we reach for the sun

and welcome the rain to quench our thirst

for freedom, friendship and mirth.

Leave a comment

Filed under POETRY