Tag Archives: politics

Campaign Music

No single note is discordant.

No single vote voiced is wrong.

How the songwriter

puts the notes together

determines the song.

Our brains fine-tune our ears

to listen for the meaning

of words carried on the notes.

Some songs lift our spirits

to reach a higher cause.

Some songs depress our spirits

and make our hearts pause

with the fear of the other

we hated all along.

Some songs get us on our feet

to dance together, smile and sing.

Some songs hold us in our seats

ready to shout out in defeat.

The songs which truly make us strong

Are those we can rely upon

to offer hope, and love, and peace.

How the notes are brought together means everything.

The music that is America

is hard to sing if notes

are not treasured,

So many notes over so many years

from so many places refugees fled in fear

of famine, crime and even war.

We have sung the song of safety and of freedom,

welcoming all to our shore.

Songs that open minds and hearts

are the best place to start

a journey to a better future;

unlike the songs meant to keep us apart.

So many discordant notes

strung together create chaos,

not a strong and lovely song.

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Filed under POETRY

TWO DIFFERENT TEA PARTIES

Louise at tea with friends

We sit together in the tea room,

four friends sharing stories of our lives

as we have done since first grade.

Now, older ladies at age seventy-five

the stories remain the same in the telling

if not in the content, with little to no surprise.

Our stories are those told by women over time

while their aged hands hold cups of calming tea

Heart-hands are held within the circle of our lives.

We studiously avoid this day 

what brings us to our knees to pray.

We know our country and our world’s democracy

is sadly  attacked, torn, bleeding and frayed

by hypocrites who lie and find distorted ways

to describe the problems we all face.

We agree the Republican Party is a disgrace.

Its leaders praise and offer support

to Putin, Orban and the sort of autocrat

who rules with iron hands and deadly fists,

claiming they are too MAGA strong to resist.

Laughingly, as if they are proud

supporters rally round Trump, shouting loud

with triumphant cheers, they form a crowd

of sycophants and fools who hide their fear

within the lies of those they cheer.

They no longer need to wear white sheets.

They are legally and openly armed to the teeth

to create a white supremacist militia.

They act with impunity in every community,

even in D.C. on the 6th. of January.

Hate crimes increase, threats roam the streets,

and gather openly in social media accounts

where they can hide their hate with open pride.

We old ladies have no fear. We have seen this before.

We have lived long enough to recall all 

those who “drank the tea” and raised the cup

to the “Tea Party” who plotted it all,

willing to watch America fall

so long as Republican supporters with great stealth

could retain their hold on power, and keep their wealth.

This is nothing new. We watched it happen as too few

paid any attention to how it happened and came to be

that we face the loss of our very treasured democracy.

They attack our very humanity, and make love a sin.

Their victimhood becomes a sign of religious grace.

Too many “find Jesus” as His words are replaced

with a false idol determined to win the race

to the White House and the presidency.

So, we sit together and drink our tea.

We may find it hard to stand on our feet.

But we shall not allow our democracy’s defeat.

We will vote for the only political party

we would be willing to invite to join us at tea.

Democrats all, we still can stand tall.

We may be a bit slower, but we go where we need to be,

to the polls to vote for those who still uphold the law.

We still speak what needs to be said

as facts remain alive, and truth is not yet dead.

We are still alive, as you can see. No one is too old

to uphold democracy and jail those whose crimes

are so many and so bold. We ladies recognize

that lies are still lies, no matter who enjoys their telling.

The con is not new, though the conmen may be.

Heat the kettle. Bring the water to a boil.

Brew the tea. Fill your cup. 

Drink the real tea and wake up.

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Filed under Uncategorized

DYING WHILE LIVING

Like it was yesterday and ever day since

is the memory which makes me wince

that childhood can be erased

and all lost innocence traced

to a single moment.

Sister lined up my first grade class

along the back wall, she put us in place,

gently pushing and prodding.

Then, she drew our attention, with no coddling,

to the lesson she was about to impart;

one which will reside there until my soul should depart.

The lesson from our first grade catechism

explained the grace of God as our chrism.

Every child wonders why she is born,

how her life came to be is a question well-worn.

The answer sister told us is simple and clear.

God simply wanted us here.

She added with smiling and quiet sigh.

From the moment of your birth you begin to die.

That is your purpose; to live then die, to journey to God.

I blinked my eyes in solemn surprise, then prod

with the question I just had to ask, “I am dying alive?”

The answer was clear, “Doing good is how you survive.”

Age is not a curse, but a lesson in living

after a public and private life of giving

all that one is or ever could be,

seeking every person’s right to liberty.

With age comes wisdom softly hidden

in that catechism message often forbidden

to instruct the lives of our children,

entertained and overly protected

by a crass generation of parents selected

to bring forth lives to serve others in goodness,

not merely create a personal fortress 

filled with money and goods to stem their loss

of lives full of purpose, all honor tossed.

Dying to self starts at our birth.

Living for others gives our lives worth.

Remember this rule from God’s covenant.

Living for others makes age irrelevant.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

HAIKU FUNDAMENTALLY TRUE

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

No confessional

can hold the sins of men done

in God’s Holy Name.

Right-wing Pharisees

roam the halls of governments

exercising hate.

They lie to themselves

stealing freedom’s greatest truths

to lie to us, too.

Money flows and fills

pockets-to-let to control

greed’s supremacy.

Unregulated

democracy fails to be

free for you and me.

Fascism now reigns

in God’s name, on lips profane

from pulpits and schools.

Separation fails

to protect laws, or faiths,

when religion rules.

Time to drive out the

money-changers from temples

of government, now.

We cannot allow

such hate and such harm to be

offered in our name.

Such Offertory 

should be left at the altar,

not legislatures.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

BUILDING BLOCKS

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Whose power fills the vein,

courses through the body politic,

amidst the loosening strain

by seeking peace and unity

to replace the the fearful rage

wrought by endless war ?

Culture is not the same

as power playing games

to win at any cost

what some fear they have lost.

What they have lost they took in theft.

No need to now feel bereft

of what one never owned.

Thieves have no honor it is clear.

Nor hesitation to build fear

by bullying, intimidation and threats.

Lies cannot heal the wounds,

nor close veins opened in regret

of what we failed to acknowledge

in a past we chose to skew.

Structures fall in blocks of despair

as we stand in quaking dread

of what might lie ahead.

Disaster and opportunity are well met

in the rubble which now settles about

our feet, and all we doubt.

Thoughts and feelings drift down

in the dust settling all around

thoughts tossed and set askew.

We are left choking on what we cannot see.

A pause is not amiss.

But, we cannot afford to wait

to rebuild a globe and create anew our fate,

and heal the hurts from falling debris

from hidden, hate-filled, fearful history

disclosed as walls and nations tumble.

Gather those who grieve the loss of democracy.

Clear the rubble, dust and minds

with a truer view of history

Dedicate such memory to better buildings.

This is humanity’s strength.

Not the structures of banks and governments;

but the blood flowing in the veins

in powerful resiliency to those who would suppress

truth and honesty.

The muscle and sinew of strong minds and hearts

whose only thought as worlds break apart

is how to build anew

a better, fairer, stronger structure

to protect both me and you.

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Filed under POETRY

POETRY’S PATH

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Poetry may hide under rocks, too.

Poems litter the path with words

often unattached

to any reality,

and blocking the way

to progress.

But, poetry exposed to the sun,

and shared with everyone,

opens up paths of discovery.

Poems can be used as tools

to bring back home

fearful fools

who climbed too high,

led astray by fraudsters

who use their fear

to build a gate,

and create hate

to block the way

to unity and community.

Our village awaits

the return of those who thus roam.

Let poetry guide you home.

Leave hate behind.

Make easier your climb,

unfettered by false letters

in tweets and squeaks

by cowards, hour upon hour.

Such false facts weigh you down

more than personal adversity.

Community will share the load,

no matter how hard your road.

Love, not hate, always finds its way.

Come home.

Come home.

Come home.

Today.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

BULLY PULPIT

Photo by Rosemary Ketchum on Pexels.com

Excuse me, Judge,

to be fair

I must be allowed to break the rule

of law and every other kind

so I may be able to do my thing,

which right now,

well, since forever,

has been running rings

around the opposition

to whatever scheme

currently could make me king.

Money has never been enough.

So, judge, I have to get tough.

You cannot believe

you can treat me

like all the other thugs,

who commit crimes

but cannot stand to do the time.

I am in a political campaign.

I have no time to admit the blame

for what I have done,

and continue to do.

Judge, shame on all of you.

Those other criminals can admit

their crime.

I simply do not have the time.

My problems are all because

of Jack Smith who dares to charge me

with crimes I have committed

against the country and the people

I must rule.

Judge, your interference

is really cruel.

If you, or anyone else, gets in my way

there will be hell to pay.

That should do it.

That is what I have to say.

Bullies always get their way.

I am the biggest bully of them all.

Let the others take my fall.

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Filed under POETRY

WOKE

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Wakefulness from nightmares does not feel safe,

nor clearly defines the life we make,

nor effortlessly guides the steps to take

while we try to stay awake

the day after nightmares reign.

The last person to fear, by those whose dreams allow

peace, security, joy and love…somehow…

are those of us who wake from dreams with screams,

and recognize the loss of hope

which forces us to stay woke

lest we descend once again

into nightmares which never end.

The American dream may be the goal

of those who dream peacefully all night long,

as well as those whose dreams unfold

as nightmares left from days of old,

and from the streets left bare

by poverty, racism and despair.

Waking cannot be a sin

for only those whose dreams begin

in sorrow and pain.

Does not every one of us awake?

Are only those who dream sweet dreams

allowed to waken in the morning light

and not have too explain

it is their right 

to stay awake?

Attacking those who awake from nightmares

instead of dreams may merely be a way

to keep some within the nightmare world

any sane person would hope to flee.

We are each entitled to awake and greet the day.

Dreamers of dreams or nightmares,

we are all the same.

I am I,  and you are you, when we are asleep.

And, when we wake. I am you and you are me,

those who waken to the same day

after long nights of life on display.

in nightmares or in dreams.

Then, morning dawns with sun’s fierce stroke.

Suddenly, we are both woke.

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Filed under POETRY

FIRE

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Who created fire

to cleanse all desire

too hot to handle

man’s desire

to rule in God’s place?

Bound by stones

of hardened hearts

contained fire warms the hearth

where love and safety glow

amidst the deepest dark.

Fire un-contained

destroys every tree

on hillsides, across plains;

sends smoke signals

beyond borders once claimed

by nations no longer constrained

in their wanton use of power

growing by the hour

which drains the very soul

of Earth’s sanctity and place

within the universe of grace.

Fire knows its place,

its power to cleanse

over-rated mankind’s 

history of disgrace.

Man’s invention? I think not.

We simply forgot

we only placed stones to hold its power,

and soon kicked them aside

to save our wounded pride.

History knows the place of fire.

It can hold what is too hot handle

across memory and time.

History turn to ash 

when we burn it to save the party line;

a line crossed by the fire of ire’s lies

burning too hot 

to save people and nations.

Hot enough to restore creation

before man destroyed

his only chance at participation?

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

HAIKU IN MY DEFENSE

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The lines were too long.

I was too busy to wait.

So, I robbed the bank.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS