Tag Archives: pandemic

DECONSTRUCTION

Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025

The streets were lined for blocks on end.

Signs reminded all who rejoiced to attend

Why they walked and talked and smiled and waved

At passing cars who braved delays

While drivers honked horns and shouted out

“Vote him out and make it a rout!”

Costumed critters danced to our delight

Knowing their freedom would give him a fright.

Deconstruct the lies we have been told.

Deconstruct the narrative being sold.

Deconstruct the bullie’s hold.

Deconstruct institutional mold.

Gather in peace the young and the old.

Stronger are you, more wise, more bold.

Deconstruct so we can rebuild

What he has destroyed with his minions’ lack of skill.

We know how to do this, and more.

We have done it many times before.

Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025

My thanks to my friends in Clintonville area of Columbus who helped me attend this moment of patriots’ challenge to the con men robbing the USA of its power, wealth, ideals and humanity. The lack of media coverage was appalling. The misrepresentation of attendance numbers cannot be challenged when media fails to provide images of the gatherings. A local station covered it AFTER it was over and crowds had dispersed. Another stated hundreds attended when it was actually thousands. We are here. We are resisting. We are going nowhere until the despotism and kidnapping of people and the Supreme Court, universities, news organizations, social media outlets, medical and public health Institutions… even our very language and the meaning of words and phrases has been brought to an end and freedom restored.

We shall not be silenced.

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Filed under COMMENTARY, POETRY, POLITICS

THE HOLY TRINITY

This Sunday the garden is my cathedral.

Where I can kneel un-masked

among hostas and ferns

and turn my gaze upon Creation,

Third person of the Trinity

Who sows the seeds of Christianity

Buried deep with the Second

in the fertile soil of the earth

prepared by the First,

Master Gardener of our souls.

I contemplate Second’s rising

as I ponder the resurrection

of every living thing that grows

after a long winter of cold and snow.

What prayers are these I offer

in the pantheon of gods of long ago?

The prayers of an immune-compromised 

Catholic unable to sit among 

un-masked rows of worshippers 

kneeling in too-few pews

listening to the Good News

spoken by priests within brick and mortar,

while I  kneel in the open-air garden.

My communion is deep if incomplete.

I sign the cross and sigh,

breathing in the energy of the Trinity,

which keeps my soul alive.

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Filed under POETRY

Pandemic

How does one get lost

Behind isolation doors

Left alone with words?

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THE FINEST LIGHT

Forty winks and now

we see you,

until we don’t

lest we are mistaken

we have awakened.

The sun stays hidden

as we pretend

night is at an end,

and a new day begun.

The winking does not end.

The winking does not bend

the light enough to hide its glare 

crouching low behind the clouds.

Would it be wrong to open eyes wide

on days like these

bathed in cloudy skies?

Seeing truth shining bright

might justice be the finest light.

Stop winking.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

The Sounds Of Isolation


The silence is too loud.

Thoughts scream across empty space,

then follow me to bed at night

where cacaphonous dreams replace rest

and solitudinous slumber.

Limbs collide amidst the din of broad strokes

across swollen heart strings

screeching a loud lament.

Reeds explode in pressured bursts of pain,

pealing shouts across my brow.

Constant drumming throbs a meandering beat

unbalancing my feet and mind

with words best left unsaid.

Isolation breaks the rhythm of silent speech.

Music bounces off the walls of my retreat

to this empty, safe and un-crowned house.

The silence is too loud.

I cannot hear my self think my thoughts.

The lyrics repeat the same phrase

over and over and over.

When will this end so we can begin again

to dance in the streets?

And meet for brunch before the matinee ?

When can we say, “See you later today” ?

The silence is too loud.

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Filed under POETRY

TIME TO DANCE

TIME TO DANCE

Beats sound

a groundless thump

against the heated air

of bodies dancing

worry laid bare.

To dance, to leap,

To sing, to weep.

Undulation and ululation

sound the escape

with brave elation.

Dance, dance

with butterflies and bees

as if life depends upon it.

Flutter and flit

On currents of air.

Rhythm and blues

are every day news.

Dance, dance.

Sound the best with feet

lifted above despair.

Dance, dance

with joy unabated.

Float like lilies

on pads created

To go with the flow.

Dance into the future.

Dance down the past.

Dance up the present.

Dance as if this chance

may be your last.

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Filed under art work, POETRY

A TICKET TO RIDE

Already forgotten bell curves

overcome by spikes and pikes

carrying virus loads

up the nose.

No more waves

of predictability

nor general systems theories

of how things go.

if there are rules of pandemic,

they are rules lost in the mystery,

lost to a history

passed by and past off

by those who scoff

their vulnerability.

Roller coaster rides and pandemics

take away my breath.

Sudden falls after steep climbs

drop my stomach to my toes.

Harsh and sudden turns of phrase

bring fear of death

around each unexpected curve.

One does not mind a five minute ride,

hands held high on final descent;

with a grudging stop and final flop.

The ride softly ends as riders depart.

Unsteady feet steady once more

ready to explore the carousel, and bumper cars,

cotton candy and games of chance.

A three year ride is way too scary

and leaves us wary

of how, if at all, it will end.

With a bang or a whimper?

Or, a sullen long simmer, fall after fall

along rails beginning to wear ?

The ride must continue until all are loaded

with a vaccination, or two, or three;

maybe, more even than four.

The tickets were free,

but too many refused to take a shot

at ending the ride on time.

More climbs, more falls, more curves

until we are all sick to death or dying.

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Filed under POETRY, Uncategorized

TRANSFORMATION: Happy Mother’s Day

Photo by Hernan Pauccara on Pexels.com

Wondering who you are becoming after the struggle to redefine your life during a global pandemic which changed the rules on how to live?  I do. My one goal since December 2019 was to survive, and help as many persons as possible to survive with me. Now, survival becomes a possibility, if we can eliminate the threat of global mutation and spread. If we do not, a newer, deadlier variant will swing back around. But, for now, I have hope for continued survival. I am ready to consider being reborn, transformed. Are you?

I stayed at home alone on Christmas. By January 2020 I was refusing to attend any public gathering and private parties.  I started ordering groceries. I had purchased a box of N95 masks and suggested others in my family do so as well. They all looked at me askance and asked, “why?” I explained there had been reports of an airborne virus spreading rapidly in China, one never before seen. One, killing a large percentage of those infected and causing severe symptoms likely to linger for unknown period of time in its survivors. They looked at me askance. They continued with life as usual. I continued to batten down the hatches, the crazy old woman of the family no one understood; but,  loved despite my eccentric behavior.

This reaction was not new to me. Whatever tidal wave of energy created me in my Mother’s womb it was not familiar to my parents. I asked so many questions as a toddler, trying my Mother’s patience. But, she always would attempt to answer. For example,  “Why does it get dark at night; then, light again?” Patiently, Mom explained, “It gets dark when the sun goes down; then it gets light when the sun comes up.”  “But, why? Where does the sun go?” Mom would then tell me the earth revolves around the sun. It does not go anywhere. “We are turning on the Earth,” she said.  “But, how does the Earth turn?”  Sighing Mom gathered two bouncy balls and showed me how the earth rotates changing the sun falling on the ball’s surface.  “But, why does the earth turn?”, I asked. “Because of gravity, I think” she answered. “What is gravity?” I asked. She then explained gravity was a force. Which comment led to tides, falling down after jumping etc. Every such conversation ended with my asking, “But, why?”; and my mother answering simply, “Because”. Over the years she called me her little “why because”. As I got older and questions continued unabated, she would comment, “ I don’t know whose womb you came from; but it was not mine.” WHAT! “But, why would you say that, Mommy?”

The first day of school I got there an hour earlier than anyone else after begging Dad to take me in on his way to open his restaurant for the breakfast crowd. He explained to Sr. Aloysius how eager I was was to learn all I could, as fast as I could. She gave me a first grade reader after allowing me to choose my seat. I chose the one right in front of her desk, of course. Day one was a dream. Day two ended as a nightmare. After class I stayed to return my reader, asking for the next book. Sister explained that this single book was our reader… for the year. For the year! “But, why?”, I asked. “I read it last night. I cannot read the same book all year.” Sister asked me to read page one. Then, she flipped to mid-section asking me to read; then to the last page. When she realized I had indeed read the entire book, she looked at me askance and asked, “what am I going to do with you?” Just like my own mother often ended a conversation. I was doomed.

One day, many months after my viral warnings, a niece asked me, “how did you know this would happen?” How did I know? How did anyone not know? Anyone paying attention would have known. Why are we so unwilling to pay attention. “Attention, everyone!” Sound familiar? We hear this everywhere we go. The most common teacher’s comment to students. Of course, we human beings must always be reminded to “pay attention.” Even with the threat of global annihilation of millions of our brethren we must be reminded to “PAY ATTENTION.” This has never been more important than it is in this moment, when the entire planet is about to be reborn. We are in a moment of such transformation that the attention of each of us is critical. Our entire planet Mother Earth faces rebirth, as well. I would like to be here to witness it.

In this transformative time of rebirth we can decide who we are, who we will become. We are still in our mother’s wombs yet. But the moment of rebirth is soon ahead. Ask “why?” always ask that question as you proceed to learn who you are to become. Decide whose womb you are in; one creating a person who honors all life and respects it enough to give it our attention, or one whose self-interest trumps the needs of our earth and all who live by earth’s bounty. Pay attention. I will not look askance at you. I will notice. I will be grateful. I will rejoice! I love you, Mom, for always honoring the “why”. Happy Mother’s Day…everyone.

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