Tag Archives: God

MORNING DOVE

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Morning brings us mindless enterprise

until Brain sorts itself sorts itself out

and finds a side to lean on as

rational thoughts begin to unsteadily rise,

as do we, from beds draped in blankets

and dreams, soon lost in shallow mists.

uncertain what this new day will comprise.

We only awaken when the world makes sense again

and each moment of each hour of this day stops

being a devastatingly horrible October surprise.

Which may explain why so many refuse to awaken,

fearful of what the day may bring to their side.

Living in the dawn of denial and refusing to think

keeps nightmares hidden behind false pride.

Which may explain why so many fear being woke,

and despise those awake, yet steadier, than they are.

It is easier for some to remain in the dark ages,

unable to face each new day with hopeful anticipation.

The unstable on their feet, pushed around in misdirection,

bombarded steadily by false presentation on their way

to the kitchen from the bedroom to prepare for work,

which may or may not be securely theirs if AI has a say.

In darkness, they color outside the lines of common sense,

unable, and scarily unwilling, to follow a rational conversation;

or simply refuse to move an inch, holding on to the fence.

We all need a simple cup of coffee, for satisfaction.

We all need a moment, or two, of silent reflection.

We all need to accept our common imperfection.

We all need a personal course correction.

We all need to reassemble our sleepy thoughts

and start behaving as we ought.

We are stronger than we know.

We can stand on our own.

we can let fear go back to sleep

as we awaken on balanced feet

facing each new day.

That is no mean feat.

It was never meant to be.

We were made from and for love.

We are the morning, not the mourning, dove.

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TO BE OR NOT TO BE

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TO BE OR NOT TO BE

The dark of night yet lingers and hides horrors from our sight,

as surely as using his poisoned pen our would-be king

claims undeserved, and hitherto unknown, power and might.

Disguised as feeble-minded and deranged in his fake rage,

surrounded by sycophants helping him turn every page,

he orders and re-orders freedom as his serpent

sibilant breath hisses and shouts across a stage,

revealing his sins and our own, as old as this nation.

Our fears and incoherent anxiety revealed with every breath,

as old as earth’s uncertain and unknowable creation.

Our American Garden of Eden has been turned into hell

for people of color and women, immigrants and refugees

who come with promise and work hard to make true

the promise that over 250 years determinedly grew,

and journalists pledged to tell us truth that is balanced and fair.

Even a live view of a firing squad of a criminal in a wheelchair

does not diminish the would-be kings charm

like a snake sung into action by Congressional inaction

which daily increases a litany of new harm

while they refuse to impeach and remove him 

and his co-horts who claim he is only joking, 

and ask us to believe he is such fun,

as he destroys the Bill of Rights, one by one;

and ignores every court order to cease and desist

his personal form of corruption and grift.

The rule of law, its lawyers and judges live in fear

as he unleashes his supporters to threaten and sneer.

Americans, it seems, find some ability to be tolerant,

though not as we hoped, to keep us solvent.

Americans accept racist and sexist firings

to make white supremacy in charge, and re-wiring.

Americans accept attacks on the Capitol and its defenders,

and pardons for criminals whose attacks never ended.

Americans can accept attacks on electoral process

and threats of vote seizures meant to intimidate

and stop voters who cannot wait to participate

in tossing the bums out with freedoms’ voting clout.

Americans can accept endless war financed by the poor

while the richer get rich making deals with enemies galore.

But, hands in our pockets, is a step too far for us.

You cannot steal our money like you steal our Jesus,

to convince us neither He, nor we, are who we once were.

Money has become our one, true god;

and whiteness, and gas prices, our only guiding star.

Vote evil out of this garden of Eden,

the serpent and all who will not act against him,

who now pretend they are on our side with false pride;

while cutting trees into crosses and debasing the wood.

The promise of America  requires you vote Blue

to keep this nation free, progressing, and claiming what is true.

Join NO KINGS rally and marches near you on October 17.

Make a plan and VOTE on or before November 3.

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AMERICAN RENAISSANCE

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The dark ages were not dark everywhere.

Light shown to the East, the South, and the West

while Europe cloaked itself in dark days;

as The United States of America does now.

Even camera crews have turned off light and sound.

And evil men and women try to rebound

by creating their own clown-faced muse

with his crypto, coins, twitter, and TV news.

These wanna-be strong-men turn away from the Light of Truth

forsake the Bill of Rights’ light once so very bright

with promise by all, for all, and to do all things right.

We watch all systems fail across airports,

roads, water plants, farm fields, schools and hospitals

and death becomes unleashed by ICE men

playing false as con-men overrule the Rule of Law.

Their appointed judges enact The Rule of Flaw

This may be America’s final straw;

judges sitting in dark court rooms

unable to see what facts there be

so precedence can be overruled

and lights kept turned off, but not for all.

January 6 criminals, rapists, pedophiles, and fraudsters are free

to roam in darkness so deep we cannot see

that none of us is allowed to remain free.

None of us are safe from deportation

to an unknown country, or to our own private hell

here in our own homes, on our own streets,

within our universities and our own communities.

The lights seem to be growing dim

as Dark Ages descend again.

Artists can paint, sculpt and write in the dark.

They see more clearly what is, and imagine what can be.

Their imagery is lightened within dreams and memory.

A new Renaissance can overcome such darkness.

It did so once. It can, again.

There should be no return to the old days, but a rebirth

of those ideals sought enacted by people of Earth,

when our constitution, its amendments and Judicial Act

were put in placed to support a Bill of Rights

to overcome dark night and shine a brilliant Light

across an entire world. Peasant freedom unfurled. 

The work of artists is to bring forth light and right;

a Renaissance of love and peace, respect for all;

and, the courage to make things right.

Art and artists’ dreams dispel, like a liars’ tell,

 shining light in the depths of these dark nights.

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MY FIRST AND ONLY CONFESSION

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Confession is good for the soul.

I have been told.

My first confession

at the age of seven

Took Sister Mary Claude,

whose diligence I applaud,

months to abate my fear.

First in line, I strode near

the confessional where Fr. Torre

waited to hear blood and gore

from little ones whose blame-game

only recently became a cause of shame.

With whispering words I began to confess.

“Father, forgive me.”( I felt such stress.)

“This is my first confession.”

Father stopped me right there

as I sat on the edge of the chair.

He was behind the screen,

a solemn, still figure barely seen.

“Please speak up so I can hear.”

And, so I did, and started to enumerate

all my sins, expecting him to strongly berate.

His words caused me even greater fear,

“Louise, not so loud, or all will hear.”

No longer did I worry who heard what.

He knew me, when I had been taught,

confession is anonymous.

Now, I felt infamous.

How could I face him across my Mother’s table

when he came each week that he was able

to eat her suga and Italian food;

and feel like family, with buoyant mood.

My only sin that day

was what I confessed every single Saturday,

“I disobeyed my Mother 10 times a day,

every day, of every week, of every year.

I was a disobedient child who shed no tears.

And over these many years

I have never changed my insolent creed

My father told me as I stood at his knee,

“Every man puts his pants on one leg at a time.

No one is better than you; (I liked that line)

and you are no better than anyone else.”

Equality set my soul free, made my heart pulse.

Equality became the base of all courage.

Equality kept me from being discouraged.

As a woman in a man’s world and profession.

I learned to speak up and out loud in my first confession.

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Filed under FAMILY STORIES, POETRY

EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE

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How easily done depends

on the sinner and sin done that day.

No “ I lay me down to sleep”

before this Catholic child closed her eyes.

An examination of conscience, 

a deep and complete review 

of my sins committed that day, as I prayed

in true contrition for my sins; and a promise

to make restitution to all I had harmed

in my self-centered, humanly-corrupted way.

Only then, could forgiveness be petitioned

and God swayed. Sister told me so in class.

Father told me so in the dark confessional.

I await an examination of conscience by all

who voted for MAGA  entranced and enthralled

by promises of heavenly and earthly reward

for allowing hate to invade and invoke

the souls of nation recently made awoke

by African-Americans and women who showed

they were equally great to any American.

Make America Great Again only meant

make America white again.

And my church paved the way.

Her misogyny always ready to deprive

women of any control over 

the length of their skirts,

the choice to love or escape 

abuse in any man’s embrace,

manage their reproductive health,

choose or excuse another’s hate.

Abortion became the rallying cry

to bring sinners off their knees and to the polls

to vote for the liars who played priests like fools.

There is no place for judgment or blame.

Sinners all, we play the same game.

There is a need for an examination of conscience,

for restitution to a nation’s sacred tenets defamed

by such reckless, sincere but sinful moves.

Now, priests and pastors see the error of their ways

as they accompany immigrants to hearings

to protect them from MAGA misrule?

The MAGA the churches helped elect

is not a surprise. And, it remains a sin to be

examined deeply, and completely reviewed.

I await the results of such a self-examination.

I await the restitution to be completed.

I await the apology for distorting Christian theology.

I await the chance to forgive, wholeheartedly.

I know my church is only human.

If only it could remember that truth.

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GODDESSES AMONG US

I see now why the first deities were female.

Only a woman speaks to the soul of  birth

and breathes new life into 

every soul on this beloved earth.

Goddesses with distended wombs

weighted with hopefulness

are found in every ancient tomb.

Our future had seemed lost.

The entire world seemed doomed.

Death in every household loomed.

A globe on fire steeped in hateful rhetoric

gunned down every effort to escape 

a despondent, hopeless fate.

Covid stole the innocence

of even those usually sitting on the fence.

No one was content to wait and see

what November wrought for democracy.

Moneyed oligarchs of greed stole hope 

as well control over justice with abuse of power.

Federalist  Society Judges delayed justice

hour after hour after hour after hour.

Even the Supreme Court undermined

the Constitution which is yours and mine;

not theirs, not wealthy donors, not those in power.

Then she, she, she, she, she, she, she

took the torch and raised it high.

Emma Lazarus’ female guards our harbor.

Kamala guards us in our darkest hour.

Her smile and laughter brings us

up from our knees, our prayers answered.

A goddess has arisen and made a fuss

of all the lies and hate-filled derision.

Her solemn promise made to us

that she will fight at our side.

She will tan the evil-doers hide

as mothers have always done,

chastising our sins one-by-one.

And so we rise with delighted surprise

to shout as one that we are not done,

and we are not going back where death resides.

We are going forward where life begins.

To a place where elections are open to all.

To a place where life is treasured not spent

on greed and control and all that is indecent.

We are headed to the polls to give our consent

to a mother goddess from heaven’s descent;

called by Joe’s prayers, who always seems to know

what we need and whom to follow.

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BODHI’S FIRST COMMUNION

Memories of bridal veils and sharp edged crinolines

biting the legs, seated and held still in quiet pews,

hands tight on rosary beads, Grandma’s gifted pearls, twisted,

turning, clacking, in anxious prayer.

Feet planted on kneelers already down

to hold aloft tiny feet in lace-edged socks

in white leather shoes with silver buckles.

Seldom seen relatives from far and near appear

to grace the day so full of grace it overflows

until the urge to flee such attention lightens the air

and breath seems a solemn plea to rise and go.

As my memories do because there he sits,

solemn and silent, and ready as I am never,

with a strength and wisdom so rare

it settles the soul and stiffens the mind

reminding us of the moment soon to arrive

when Grace itself takes form in the Host,

a thought so alive we all rise to process up the aisle

all smiles of delight light us inside and out

as the Host melts on the tongue and our hearts shout

God is alive! As am I. As am I!

Unconditional love exists in this moment of bliss,

in communion with all others, our sisters and brothers

within a family, a church, a neighborhood block,

a city, a nation, an entire world

of people to love and bring inside hearts opened wide.

No human assessment of follies,

no judgement of errors done and undone,

no constant surveillance of sins yet assessed.

On this day

with this child

one only feels blessed.

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RICHARD FIERO

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“I had to protect my family.

And, everybody in that room was my family.”

So, Richard Fiero explained,

“These were all good people.”

The soul and heart are strained.

The heart and body are pained

beyond false boundaries of age,

race, gender, and faith.

Who stands partner with such grace,

spread by this hero who stood up to hate?

From whose pulpit will he be praised?

The same one which makes baseless claims

that simply being what God made,

true to self and biology,

somehow makes a sinner who must be saved?

Whose audacious foolery is this?

What jaundiced view leads 

gentle souls astray from God’s bliss

in the diversity of His creativity ?

Such dark roads followed by the judgement prone

lead always to the home which the violent call home.

Close down the dangerous paths from such pews.

Put up warning “unsafe” road signs. Shout the good news.

Accept all of God’s creation, or stand alone.

And, for God’s sake, embrace a truth known well;

following paths of fear lead straight to hell.

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DOMINION

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Why must we believe in hierarchical hold

over all of creation when we know

creation is a manifestation humble and bold

of greater power than our own?

Creation is the hand of God

who needs no interlopers to command

what has already been put into a plan

to continue the life force falling from His hands.

No dominion then, an ancient view,

replaced by a single rule of egality

to love each creation as He loves you.

No dominion then, but brotherhood,

as Francis told the Assisi fold,

brother sun and sister moon

brother wolf and sister frog

brother lake and sister river

brother corn and sister clover

brother rock and sister sand

brother man and sister woman

brother children and sister aged

brother Muslim, Hindu and Jew

sister Catholic and Protestant, too.

No dominion needed here.

Brotherhood and sisterhood

held close and made dear.

Creation needs no dominion

to replace our fear.

Faith, hope and love makes this clear.

So preach to creation, but not of your rule.

Preach of your love and promises true

to protect and defend any and all 

which is shared with, not given, to you.

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