Tag Archives: survival

MY FELLOW AMERICANS

MY FELLOW AMERICANS

I hold my tongue.

It takes strength I do not have.

Whimpers escape

On shattered breaths,

In silent screams.

The fight worries my soul,

Battle weary and choking,

On words held tight inside.

Once the scream begins

I doubt I could stop.

I wait for your speech.

I yearn for your promise

To stop the authoritarian

Who has taken over our house,

Emptied its vaults,

Stolen its wealth,

Sold its power

To the highest bidders.

So, I write. That I can do

While I wait for you.

To me, this nothing new.

Do you believe me now?

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

KEEP LAUGHING

Photo by Rodolfo Quiru00f3s on Pexels.com

Earth is laughing so hard 

she is holding her sides.

Her laughter has not died.

She holds it inside.

Too often, there is not a smile to be seen.

Comedians and laughter are under attack; 

sad attempt to kill laughter, it is true.

But, let me tell you

I awake every day with a smile on my face

and my mind full of plans and laughter as I cope;

planning strategies to keep us all woke

enough to strategize and energize

enough to keep Earth and our freedom alive.

I smile when I find new ways

to resist, persist and overcome

those who strive so hard to make us glum.

Where they see threat, I see possibility.

Where they feel fear, I feel connected community.

When they shout their pain, I shout my glee.

Earth trembles to keep her laughter inside

at the foolish ego-maniacal MAGA leaders’ pride.

Earth continues to teach us her lessons

with a smile on her face from sunrise to sunset.

Giving us the means to keep us alive, and all our needs met.

Balance and connection are what we need

to continue on the path to wealth without greed.

Intersected boundaries are what we need

to continue on the path to true peace.

This is Earth’s greatest gift: her instinctive ability

to make us laugh as we grow in humility,

knowing we cannot berate nor control

Earth’s power to grow, to heal and renew

the damage men and women unintentionally do.

I laugh aloud with Earth today.

Our guffaws and chuckles thrown out wide.

Come laugh with us, then; and hold your heaving sides.

Try to unbend and dry your eyes so you can see.

That laughter has not died, nor ever must.

Constant negativity has nowhere to go

except “dust to dust” buried below,

in the space laughter has made deep within Earth.

And once this doom and gloom comes to an end

the entire world united in mirth 

shall laugh once again.

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FORTUNE TELLERS

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Squirrels dance with abandon

to circadian rhythm

leaving behind all restraint,

and stashes of seeds and nuts

in unlikely places which

I shall discover in Spring.

Like gypsy fortune tellers

they scamper from one customer

to another predicting what is to come.

The plants seem to listen 

afraid not to learn their fate.

They wilt a bit and lose color

as their fortune unfolds.

Their worst fears make them bold.

They bloom twice as many flowers.

They turn every flower head to seed.

They will not be caught unaware

of warnings gypsy squirrels have brought.

Perhaps, their glory will fade.

But, all will not be lost.

The squirrels promise new life will appear

in old and new plots.

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REPLANTING DEMOCRACY

Leonoras Widow’s Tears, from Breck’s bulbs, planted 4-24-2025

The Holland roots arrived today.

They still need to soak

before I can plant them

deep enough to grow.

What Leonora’s tears will bring

to the garden yet this Spring,

I do not yet know.

The soil is as dark as ever.

This is no reason to fear.

It does not mean it lacks

the ability to accept seeds that grow

into new ideas, new joys, new hopes

beyond our current capacity to know

what wonders in freedom’s garden

will seek light, grow upright and glow

amid the new plantings we start today,

across new paths and waterways,

across neighbors’ fields 

on new roads and byways

joining the others we already know.

Together we continue to sow

new seeds of freedom, perhaps hybridized

alongside the naturalized and native plants

that make our yards, our streets,

our neighborhoods, our nation states,

our very planet come alive again

in even more fruitful and beautiful ways.

I plant with hope this day and every day.

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MUMPISM

Photo by Lisa Fotios on Pexels.com

Like lichen I cling

to foundational rocks, loose.

Democracy lost.

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SURVIVAL

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If love can survive death,

it can certainly survive life.

No challenge is too great

to overcome hate.

Wearing love as a mantle

protects the ego inside

allowing humility 

to overcome pride.

Carrying love as a shield

pushes anger aside,

opening new paths

far and wide.

Holding love as a torch of fire

enlightens all within its reach,

opens eyes wide and inspires

an easier search for truth and peace.

Embracing the spark of love in others,

no matter how small it appears,

empowers trust and dispels fears.

If love can survive death,

it can certainly survive life.

Love saves us both,

those who give and receive.

Love saves us all.

Hate simply deceives.

Start sewing love.

One stitch at a time.

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LETTER TO THE YOUNG AMONG US

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Rain has ceased her assault for now,

broken records shattered faith 

in weather patterns, and how!

Streets flooded and gardens submerged.

Waves above plants crested and surged.

Climate change shows the fruitless folly

of distracted senses unable to observe

nothing that matters more

then destructive weather battering the door.

Mother Nature refuses to give up on us,

On Earth’s survival and our own.

She bellows and blows

to drive her message home.

The nihilism of our young is no surprise

as they watch all they knew of truth and honor die.

The hopefulness of youth also decries

the callow acceptance of loss

by ancient leaders who fail to count the cost

as their years surmount their reason

in their final season.

Time to allow youth its voice

and watch them lead us forward

to a better choice.

Allow youth to set aside 

the greedy old clinging to their wealth;

as if wealth, not life, is the real prize.

Stay strong young sons and daughters.

These old bones are counting on you

to laugh and love, to plant and grow

a world much better than we have left behind.

I salute you and offer you

all the wisdom you can unwind

from old codgers 

with weak limbs, but loving minds.

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WORDS

Are words without heart more marketing than art?

Is there any assurety my words sit on your lips

with the same joy they sit on mine?

I count on words to keep us all alive.

Or is it false security to believe in such vanity?

I sit quietly, in meek wonder at the power of words

to turn a cheek against a blow, 

or use a laugh to turn aside sorrow.

As I await inspiration words flow.

I wonder how this can be so.

What is life but waiting to know?

What is hope but a quickening of spirit?

What is faith but a breath in and breath out?

What is love but accepting whatever comes about?

Has life any purpose or is it merely aspiration?

Is life simply our imagination?

Without imagination can we survive?

Can any nation?

I wait. 

I breathe.

I accept.

I imagine.

I survive.

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