Life flows through life
And love follows life
Life is fed by life
Love enriches life
Only through giving life
will we have more life.
Only through loving life
will we find more love
In every positive action of life
we demonstrate a life of love
And the circle continues,
life, love, love life, and repeat.
Rum raisin ice-cream is the best… it originated in Sicily in the 1930’s … where raisins were soaked in a local wine and mixed then into gelato. When it was brought to the United States the local wine was replaced with rum… what a great upgrade from the old to the new.
Rum Raisin
In the back furthest from the door
is the special treat I came here for,
Beyond the chocolate and cookie dough
not the vanilla or strawberry of old
or the mint chocolate or rocky road
lies that special treat, yummy and cold.
Like heavenly angels would dream
sweet raisins and rum with cream,
overflowing with richness and icy cold
it tastes smooth and perfectly bold
from Sicily it came here to our shores
and found its way to our local stores.
At the small ice cream shop on main street
of every small town, you’ll find this cold treat.
Just give it a try, in a cup, or better, a waffle cone.
Others will want to try it and not leave you alone.
But, love is sharing its perfect smoothness and taste,
and returns you’re sure to make, with all do haste.
There is a crackling in the air
there something out there
that is reaching across all life
and it’s a cutting sharp knife.
It’s angry, it’s hard and telling.
It’s comes in ugly and yelling,
and it’s as unrelenting as gravity
pulling us down in its depravity.
Power is all that matters now.
Nations and peoples must bow
to devils of the East and West
at the time of their loyalty test.
Else, the four horsemen will rise
as they chase the phantom prize
of power, wealth and adulation
from all of you and every nation.
The end is just beginning
The world is now spinning
in a direction of great turmoil
in a battle for minerals and oil.
Evil must be stopped now
before fields feel the plow
before the seeds are in the ground
before the final trumpets do sound.
It is time to rise up, to resist,
to make arguments and persist
with values and courage unfettered
while reasoned people still matter.
Before the power of evil is too strong
and right is indistinguishable from wrong
in the apocalypse of the four horsemen
and the battles which precurses the end.
Rise up, while we still can
Rise up, and upend their plan
Rise up, with all the power of good
Rise up, let the future know we stood
bravely for them!
Around the age of four and a half it is natural for children to skip, despite it being relatively inefficient compared to walking and running. There’s no evolutionary reason for it… except it is fun.
SKIPPING
I’m skipping, just to see if I can
it comes as natural as breathing
as my mind travels back to childhood
as my happiness swells through the
exertion.
A stick-in-the-mud, says you’ll
wear out your shoes – is this what his
mother told him once long ago to
tamper his fun, or is it just being
old and grumpy?
If you are happy, let it all out with
a smile and a skipping hop and slide,
and if not happy, you need it
even more, because you can’t skip
without happy!
Remember hopscotch, or jump
rope, or wheelies on a bicycle,
such meaningless, un-measured fun
now possibly beyond our reach,
but for skipping.
So when the world gets you down
when the press of life is upon you,
then take a moment for skipping
and unwind and be a kid again,
happy!
Great Blue Heron
STILLNESS
Waiting for the world to turn,
slowing heart rate, muscles burn.
Stalking stillness, silent silky moves.
Waiting until the opportunity improves.
There will be one moment or another
when two worlds will come together
for the strike of singular survival purpose
changing lives on each side of the surface.
Thus for a moment captured in time,
the grace of stillness finds a rhyme
in the heart of a poet on a fine sunny day,
as a lesson in patience for what comes our way.
Here it is Sunday morning. I have no clue what I will write as of yet… I have poetry in my heart, but in my mind I have the worry of democracy fading and the rise of autocracy, and the crazy ambivalence of those who will feel the greatest loss. There is the romantic me, with feelings at my fingertips and then there is the raging realist with fire at my fingertips, and there is no resolution of heart and mind, there is no reconciliation possible other than to say it to you as clearly as I can, that the rage must be satisfied to make room for the poet. That the press of real life on so many people cannot be consoled with the wonders of nature, the grandiose of existence in a universe of great possibility when there is the coming oppression of thought, of all things we hold dear, including our Dignity.
We must not be satiated with the joys of life alone for those who will come after us must find that we left the world better than we found it, and not in the hands of those who would plunder the wealth of their futures.
Precious Dignity
Where have you gone?
Why do we have none?
Were you stolen along with the aid
from all the people who prayed
for help from those with plenty
of everything, except now our dignity?
How can we find you within us?
Are you now with Lady Justice?
For it seems she’s flown away with you,
both of you denying there was a coup.
We are not who we claimed to be
without Justice and Dignity.
For the sake of power, we lost our affinity
for both Lady Justice and Precious Dignity.
Hate is nasty and Cruelty her sister
as they work together to blister
our senses, as our world is undermined
and Justice and Dignity is redefined…
As Imperial Hate and Blatant Cruelty
become the new tools of power!
You have no idea how beautiful
you are, how a flight in sunlight
over reflecting waves can soothe
the soul, how perfect the moment
when nature brings us something
rare, something fleeting, and
we have the means to share in
art, photo, poetry, and we capture
the very essence of grace,
a lovely expression of nature’s
face presented to us mere
mortals, reminding us there
is something more, something
which permits, no requires
our wonderment, and we
have the power to see,
to feel, to capture, and
share what the world grants
us as our birthright, the beauty
of nature, which is in all of us,
and too often, you have
no idea just how beautiful
you all are.
in Love and War,
which can only mean there
are no rules, and all is fair
in the chaos which follows
what our purpose allows.
And winning is the reason
for the trouble of the season.
But for who do we win?
Is it for love or war we will sin?
For love is a faithful multiplier
and war but an ugly divider
as we do the math of our souls,
contemplating our purpose and goals.
Thus, may it always be the chaos
of love which creates the ethos
in which our spirit resides
and our soul never hides.
They give their very best,
as they blossom bright
and shine for us,
as we experience
their buoyant beauty,
their fragile fragrance,
and we love them for how
they brighten our world;
yet knowing the truth
of time… that they are
for us but a moment and
will be gone too soon,
as their beauty will shed
as the relentlessness of gravity
overcomes stout pliant bodies,
and colors fade from bright
hues of purple and stunning reds,
mixed with startling whites into
dull grays of formerly stately hues
and life-altering brown spotting
finds it way to the surface,
while we witness the arrow of time
carry them beyond those
brilliant moments and flashes
of color, into a fragile
state of disrepair,
but oh the memories,
the memories
of the glory of life.
I was thinking about the march we are on toward autocratic rule and dominance of oligarchies with a diminishment of the institutions of government, the scattering to the winds of the free press, and the pending attack on others as we move from stated isolationist objectives to imperial expansion…
Sure, Americans voted to move away from the status quo… we expressed a “need” to shake things up. We voted against bloated institutions and the expressed wisdom of those more educated than ourselves, we decided that we are the Americans of the 1950s, with our I exceptionalism in tact, our conservative values preserved… and yet I wonder how the resulting diminished government, failing free press, tariffs, and conflicts with nearly everyone will square the circle for Americans?
I have no doubt, that Trump and his minions, as they celebrate their presumed mandate, will think they have the support to change our system of government, to change information flow, to muck with our reputation in the world, and ultimately impinge upon the ideals we have long held of ourselves. As they overplay their hand, how will this set with Americans who have known a working government, no matter its flaws, have known the freedom of vote, and representative government, who have relished fair play and equal opportunity?
Americans believe their country has been a force for good in the world, no matter our mistakes. As a nation of immigrants we have always had a warm heart for those in need and the downtrodden (well not always and not so much),
I think there will be a backlash. I don’t believe we are like the beaten down and weak Germans of 1934, or the Hungarians of 2010, when Orban won his second, “for life” round in the role of Prime Minister, or for that matter we are unlike the Russians of the 2000’s ready for Putin’s strongman rule. No, we have a vibrant economy, regardless of the price of eggs. We have a long tradition of freedom. We remain unconquered and are not vulnerable as other societies were… no, we will not allow our institutions, our free press and our voting rights to be trampled upon.
We will wake up and realize we are going in the wrong direction and the disruptor in chief will be disrupted. The midterm elections will be a chance to say, hey wait a minute, this is not going as we expected. Then the battle for years 3 and 4 will be a battle for our future. Americans will win, must win. The pendulum will swing back toward the middle… the far right satiated they won the imagined war against wokeness (whatever the heck that is) and the far left will be satisfied with the survival of democracy.
I imagine we will be nostalgic for George W… Bush that is.
Count on overplayed hands to bring us back to the middle. I choose optimism as the second Trump administration begins this week. I choose optimism that the extremists will go too far causing a backlash. I choose optimism that Americans will start seeing they really did mean what they were saying. Americans will bring us back to the sensible middle. I am choosing optimism… for the alternative is freaking ugly.
God Bless America!
… please!