OVERTURNING WOMEN

No exception for rape

when Roe is overturned

should be no surprise.

The whole point is

the sanctity of life.

Except for women,

whose lives 

are not their own.

They belong to men.

To use.

To direct.

To control.

And of course,

to rape.

To quiet.

To destroy.

It is a state’s right,

don’t you know?

One human right

is no better than another

if men 

cannot have their way.

Exceptions have no place

in the religious right’s mind.

Religion itself is at risk.

Do you think the right

stops here

when a woman’s rights

are destroyed ?

Whose religion has a say?

Not mine, nor yours.

This is no longer a nation 

of laws and not men.

Law has been destroyed

by men whose religion

of male superiority holds sway

on our Supreme Court,

and finds support by women 

selling out other women

to please men, or male gods

whose love is no longer Supreme.

A god whose love

is no longer on display.

And men are soon free

to act with racial superiority.

For certainly, 

once woman’s right to be

in control of her life is stolen.

Other lives are also at risk.

Sad day for me

to learn law has been supplanted,

dismantled, denied and destroyed.

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DIMMING DEMOCRACY

Personal integrity holds power

hour after hour,

a self-charging battery

which needs no flattery.

Its lack weakens the energy

of those out of charity,

whose vision holds no clarity

of truth over lies.

Whose only means of holding power

is what autocrats allow

as they are charged to follow

and democracy dies.

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FADING DAFFODILS

The daffodils and I are fading.

Our tulip friends who bloomed later not far behind.

The  bright colors once so gaily waving

in gentle sun now unwind

the cord which seemed to hold back

warmer days and nights; the cord which holds back time.

Clouds continue to place a sack

over Sun’s greater insights of reason and rhyme,

sleeping still too many hours

to bring the garden fully back

to life.

What is it in the soul that yearns

for Spring in Winter and Summer in Spring?

How to live in the moment I’ve yet to learn.

Around and around the seasons I go,

seeking to learn just one more thing.

When I shall stop nobody knows.

Until then I shall dance and sing

among the flowers which in my garden grow.

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VOTING FOR THE CHILDREN

“Stop, dear. You are frightening the children.”

is a line written into the family script

of every sit-com ever writ.

Bullies have been ever near creating fear

over those who power they sense may be

greater than their single autocracy;

built into the democracy of the family.

Fear does not subside once children leave the nest.

It persists and blankets adult nakedness.

The brain is an amazing protector

storing fear in a separate chamber outside reason’s own.

Reaching the age of reason is not enough alone

to overcome the constancy of threats that cut to bone.

in family sit-coms Dad was chided, even derided

when his supremacy and autocracy was on display.

Mother and children were filled with dismay

which they treated with complacency

and placated with plots created in funny ways.

Mother tried to soothe the savage beast who though it great fun

to keep his wife and children under the gun.

Week after week, the same battle waged

to bring family under his  control.

Week after week, mother and children placated the fool

who tried to instill autocratic rule against the family

whose adhesion to democratic rule, guided by equity,

acknowledged “one for all and all for one” the glue

that held family together against mob rule.

The Republican Party learned a different lesson than I

sitting wide-eyed as a child watching sit-coms.

The Republican Party delights in bullies’ power 

to create fear hour-after-hour in the political sit-com

“now daily at a”  FOX  “news station near you.”

They found it great fun to run games on the wife,

the children, neighbors they despised;

even, neighborhoods and entire nations;

making citizens cry as they watch democracy die.

The vote is going by the way unless we stay the hand

threatening us with Republican absolute rule

Life is not a sit-com. The vote is our greatest tool

to fight the autocratic fool whose fear weighs so heavily

upon those watching freedom-lovers placate the man

who would deny the vote in any way he can.

Even when reason returns, the fear remains locked in place

in a brain which keeps it safe for future use.

The only safe response can be 

to stop those frightening the children.

Fear only ends when we stand and fight,

defeat it and subdue it; and thus, destroy what causes fright 

so it cannot linger in a safe place.

We must lock away the fear-mongerers instead.

We are losing our children; and, too many can find no safe space.

“Dear Republicans, you are frightening the children.”

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DESSERT LINES TAX DEMOCRACY

There were too many choices on the dessert tray.

“Each one take one” deserted us in the fray

to take more than our neighbor day after day.

Only those who had already eaten their full

were allowed into the dessert line’s pull.

They soon fearfully learned to guard their place,

that their rights to the line were not earned, but disgrace 

to those deprived of sweet-takings

engaged in new nation-making;

not filled with days of Turkish delights,

but with hungry days turned into endless nights.

Where dreams dashed middle-class hope, 

which died on buffet lines, the poor man’s trope.

The anger is real, if misdirected

believing The Big Lie that goes un-dissected

lest truth arise before their eyes

explaining they face their country’s demise.

We are the source of our own destruction

electing leaders who lie without compunction

and promise to allow us into the buffet line

where dessert is denied time after time.

Democracy dies with the death of the middle-class.

Without “each-one take one” our democracy cannot last.

The buffet lines of life are heavily taxed

while the dessert line where few stand tight go un-taxed.

They are bloated and full of themselves, supremacists all,

while the rest of us watch democracy fall

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AGING CHILDREN ALL

Healthy minds come in all kinds.

The butcher, the baker, the candle stick maker

all row together or sink below the sea at best, 

or wander earth’s oceans without rest.

Too much anxiety, too little propensity

to throw out life preservers for everyone,

it is clear, makes enemies where there are none.

Children’s rhymes are true for all times.

Those who think they have left behind

childhood are out of their minds.

Forever childlike is my goal . 

It is the only way to assure I stay whole.

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VOTE WHILE YOU STILL CAN

The things I would like to forget are clear

while the things I would like to remember

slip away like a playlist on a playback feed.

The happy faces of refugees

making it safely to Lviv,

then on to even safer spaces

are not so clear as those in tears

who remain under siege in fear

that they will die of famine or thirst

or gunshots, missiles, or worse.

Too many soldiers lie in wait

at too many city gates

to begin the killing spree

of genocide against those free

of despots and autocrats

across their borders.

I can barely say the names

of those who live here at home

with the same desire to destroy

our hard won democracy.

It is clear whom they admire.

First, themselves for cleverness

and ability to con under the duress

of fear, superiority and loathing. 

They build fear’s  weapons

and amass stockpiles of fear

funded with tax-free incomes

and air it far and wide,

while they hide as Citizens United

in common cause to destroy

people of color, women, and those whose gender

threatens their white male masculinity

and the women who wash their feet

with unshed tears from their own hidden fears.

Cowards are everywhere.

We used to deride them.

Now we elect them.

I wish we could forget them.

But they are hiding in plain sight.

and they will never do what is right.

And so we must reject them 

and win this last fight against them.

Vote! damn it. Vote!

While you still can.

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AGING OUT OF PLACE

Years weigh down the lane I travel.

The dust has settled, as have I.

Even the air seems dense and pale,

too easy to inhale or exhale.

My pace must slow,

each foot placed just so.

Should I fall the earth would feel

hard as glass.

We both would shatter.

Eyelids weighted by experience

of both grief and joy dim the view ahead

of this road I know

must end, sooner than I’d wager,

anyone would hope.

It grows quieter here.

My ears have dried with my tears

remembering  long lost friends and family.

Crystals form within bright as stars

then shift from their moorings

as I walk, daring me to fall and jar

the brittleness of each new morning.

So, I slow. But still, I go.

Where? None of us really know.

which makes this journey

an adventure beyond this space,

an exploration of love and grace.

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HOLY COMMUNION

Hope is a gift we can only give ourselves 

when we have faith in ourselves

which requires we love ourselves.

Believing in ourselves

allows us to believe in others.

We only know this by the gift of love

others give us.

The hopeless cannot have faith

until they love themselves.

They foment insurrection

to make a dark connection

with other lost souls.

Loving the faithless,

those who have lost faith

with their own humanity,

with their own community

is perhaps our own best hope

for unity.

Perhaps love is the more difficult gift,

the more difficult to find, 

the more difficult to hold fast.

Perhaps we are not meant to hold onto love

to make it last; 

but to let it go and find its way,

to those whose need is greater than our own,

that we may create better days.

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DARK DAYS

Is this enough for you,

these coldly dreary days

when dew frost bites

flowers bold enough

to brave the threats

of a winter not quite through?

Snow waits above 

the sky’s borders high

and falls with icy rain in tow

to warming earth down below.

Climate knows not 

which way to go.

She is confused and changeable,

grief-stricken and unreliable,

searching for freedom

amidst the rubble and dark skies,

bringing tears to those-who-love’s eyes.

This is no Arab Spring

where hope can grow.

This is a tethered Spring

driven along by bullying winds

daring anything to grow

or even survive in Mariupol,

now Finland and Sweden, too.

This is a dark cloud eclipsing the sun

where once democracy could freely run.

Is this enough for you;

or too much to bear a moment longer,

wishing we could be as brave as Ukrainians

and so much stronger ?

Is this enough for you ?

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