Tag Archives: religion

THE AGE OF HUMANS

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I have lived through the  Stone Age, the Bronze Age, 

the Iron Age, the Middle Age, the Industrial Age,

the Space Age, the Communication Age.

I am human, so it seems, 

and able to look back as well as forward; 

a mere mammal trying 

to become part of that thing 

we like to call humanity.

How do we know who we are

when we do not know the neighbor next door?

How much effort does it take to explore

each member of a community?

We do not even truly know our family.

Strangers pose a serious threat

that we have not learned to handle yet.

We play with religion and philosophy

to understand what humans are meant to be.

We have become the source of inhumanity

around the globe we once thought flat.

The more we learn, the more we fear.

The less we know even where we are at.

We who do not know ourselves, can 

never feel safe.

Without self we are never in a truly safe space.

Democracy is as fragile as we.

If we cannot trust ourselves, whom can we trust?

In a democratic republic, trust we must.

Demagogues know this is so.

Wealth and power are hard to let go.

To seize power from “no-nothings” comes easily.

Divide and conquer rallies laughingly.

It has become a right-wing norm

used by our nation’s enemies

who need never use their armies

to cross our borders, when we are so willing

to allow them to sway and inform us who we are

day after day after day after day after day.

Only because we do not know who we are, anyway. 

Or, in any way useful to ruling ourselves.

Like human children, human adults vote to play.

Humans are entering a new age every day.

A I will now become the new me,

a me I never expected to see.

One I never knew, it is true.

A I will know me much better than I do.

It will write and speak and act for me.

Deep inside what I once felt was free

will wither and wonder if I could have become

the real human, the real man or woman

the real me.

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J.D.VANCE

May I lie to you?

I promise to do it sweetly

and completely.

You will not feel a thing,

not really, never really.

Soft-spoken hateful lies

only raise hair across the nape.

Polite lies do not become the farce

of a carnival barker red in the face

who raises bile and never smiles

except in that smug way.

My smug smile lies in wait

only to be seen behind the screen

of my politeness and grace.

The need to shower away filth

subsides as one leans forward

to catch the whispered slide

of my quiet lies across the skin.

Lying to win is not a sin.

I lie so well.

No one can tell.

and so, I softly and secretly smile

with serious gaze all the while.

It is ridiculous

how insidious

polite lies swell.

Can you tell?

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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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Goodness and Mercy

Goodness and Mercy

follow me every day,.

Their footfalls softly fall

As I make my way.

As darkness drops ahead

they lift their torches

to light my way,

comforting through nights

that threaten

To never go away.

I hear their voices

in children at play.

I feel their touch in hugs

from friends keeping loneliness at bay.

I share their laughs and smiles

with strangers on my way.

I am carried in their arms

by those who lift my fears away.

I accrue my many debts

but it is they who pay.

They carry me toward my fate

when I would wearily delay.

And, when it seems useless,

they remind me to pray:

“Thank you, Goodness and Mercy

for following me all my days.“

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USE YOUR WORDS

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How often we tell children

“Use your words.”

But, we forget too easily

that words have power

only if they are heard, 

and not dismissed breezily.

Men decided long ago

not to listen to women.

So many lies are told

to quiet women’s voices.

Eve has never been forgiven

for opening men’s eyes 

to painful truths.

Women’s voices are not more shrill.

Women’s screams are not made

to give men their thrills.

Women’s truths are too often

pushed aside to save male pride.

Doors are slammed shut

against voices women can trust.

“Use your words?”

How soon we forget.

Pain is the great motivator

of forgetfulness.

It deadens speech.

It silences words.

Bullies remind us of our pain

to shut our mouths

and drown truth out.

“Use your words!”

Do not forget their power

in the kitchen, in the bedroom,

in the schoolroom, in the boardroom.

“Use your words,” minute by minute,

hour after hour, until the day comes

you  can vote your own power

to “use your words.”

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Think

“Anyone who has the power to make you believe absurdities has the power to make you commit injustices.” – Voltaire

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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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NO WORDS

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My words are in hiding.

They went south

on orders by an enemy

in a language unknown

on internet connections silenced

on phones which could not be charged

written on leaflets

dropped from the sky

with the dumb bombs

which destroyed the words

where I reside

in hopeless desires

for peace, at first;

now, simply, not to die.

My words and I moved south

to promised safety.

My words and I could not speak

of what we saw 

along the way

south,

leaning on false promises.

Still, my words must hide

in shelters bombed 

despite the promise

despite the effort

carrying my words

which are my children,

silent, on my back.

Trapped, my words and I

with nowhere to go.

Without hope.

No one speaks words;

Only the bombs may speak,

with a language of their own.

A language no one understands.

One no one ever wants to hear. 

My words hide here.

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HAIKU FUNDAMENTALLY TRUE

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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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AN ODE TO MIKE JOHNSON

A Speaker who speaks silently.

He hides in plain sight openly.

Bearing no color, chatting amiably,

amid many-hued others feverishly

there to cover stories that bleed wickedly.

He seems so normal; and, so confidently

preaches stories and fables smilingly.

Keeping all entertained endlessly

as their eyes fall from the prize of democracy,

Stolen and hidden in his wallet shamelessly

are votes cast, all hopes bashed easily.

He smiles calmly, benignly and evilly.

He leads as his party follows blindly.

Hiding in the spotlight openly.

His weight placed upon freedom crushingly.

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