Tag Archives: honor

BACK TO THE GYM

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Most of us have been away from the gym too long.

Our freedom-loving muscles have grown slack.

We had not fully recognized the slack.

Others noted the weakness

of our democratic body.

We went about our day aware that each act

became more difficult, more strenuous.

Success became less assured, more tenuous. 

While we grew soft, life grew hard.

We could no longer lift our children above our heads.

Their safety could not be assured;

not only on the playground monkey bars,

but behind their desk, or sitting in church pews.

Even our voices became more feeble

as we stopped the exercise of free speech,

and bemoaned the simple act 

of marching down the street.

But others watched and saw our weakness grow.

Knew we were no longer paying attention

to our former strength and ignoring our work-outs,

while we flaunted more the medals on our chests

and the trophies on our shelves.

We no longer recalled how we earned those awards.

We forgot the daily struggle at life’s gymnasium

to keep the muscles of self-governance

strong enough  to take on new challenges and ideas.

Our weakness made us run from, instead of with,

others racing along the path to freedom.

We envied their success, our own no longer moving

us forward and ahead.

The only way the weak can win is by holding others back.

The truly strong can win by running hard and long.

We all looked away from those who cheat

to claim a win they do not deserve.

It feels too close to every nerve

now weakened within each lax muscle; 

a republic struggling just to stay upright.

Religion becomes the panacea of anxious nights.

We can only hope our muscle-memory

of freedoms gained in the past

is strong enough to make our democracy last.

Back to the gym. Walk the streets. Shout the speech

that you recall in memory grown weak.

Build back the muscle needed to wield your voting power.

Now is the hour 

to get back to the gym.

Be strong and carry on!

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

SHARED SHAME

Do you see the military

roaming city streets?

It is not my imagination

we are a threatened nation

about to lose our liberty.

The military which was once

our department of defense

against outside enemies

has turned its face within.

Now, it is the department of war

against those it would once defend.

We saw this coming.

We raised the alarm.

You answered with smarmy charm

that both sides do it.

What “it”? I ask. 

I do not make war against you.

I build no fence to enclose you

in concentration camps 

and jail cells with no chance of bond,

nor due process, nor rule of law.

You do all this and more.

You call me names to intimidate

and threaten my peace, my livelihood.

You take away my safety net, my health,

my happiness, my freedom to speak

and resist you. You call me your enemy

to justify your willingness

to let the constitution be tossed aside.

you no longer have integrity nor pride.

You can only feel shame if you have pride.

And you have no shame.

But, I…

I have enough pride for two;

enough to be ashamed of you.

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STORMY NIGHT

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STORMY NIGHT

Scattered rain was predicted.

The evening news meteorologist

calmly warned of light rain.

Instead, a wild storm came

filling the night with thunder

and meaningless blunder

as lightening broke asunder

a peaceful, if not restful, sleep.

Too wild a storm to venture out in.

A storm to set us back and shut blinds

to keep from seeing or fearing ruin.

This storm rapidly blew in 

while most of us slept.

At sunrise, when I rose, I looked outside,

finally, and see the truth.

It is not what I was told, nor surmised.

The yard is battered.

its inhabitants scattered in burrows;

the garden littered and furrowed

by limbs  dragged and cuffed.

The flag hangs upside down

until it touches the ground

in sacrilege and shame.

The flag holder has been pulled loose,

its screws unscrewed, its anchor

pulled apart and left hanging in dark space

through a night of constant turmoil,

leaving my flag drenched and soiled.

In morning light I could finally see

the upending of  democracy,

right on my front porch

where everyone could if they would

easily see. No neighbor reported

nor interceded to fix a flag so distorted.

But, false solar lights alone

across the yard ways shone,

too low-light to assess 

a flag under duress.

In morning light, in my nightgown I alight

to pull my flag up and close.

I place it upright to stand tall,

allowing the tears soaking it to fall,

that it may slowly dry out with the sky;

held by a newly installed holder,

one stronger and bolder.

I promise you this: the flag, my flag,

will soon again fly safe and free.

As will all of our beloved country.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

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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NEGOTIATION

Eyes in the back of the head.

Negotiations with liars.

False flags of intent.

Time ill spent?

Honor builds trust.

Honor’s cup was emptied.

Not so long ago we forget.

Chechnya, Syria,Georgia

Ukraine.

Fill the cup with honor first ,

Else we drink 

from a poisoned cup.

Do not wait, nor hesitate

to defend against war

delayed not ended.

Eyes wide open.

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Filed under POETRY