In a time of divisiveness, justice may be blind
but the people must see for themselves to find
that the system is fair, arguments of facts prevail
not spun to determine prosecution success or fail.

Defenses cannot be given as opinion or hearsay
and the authority of witnesses clearly on display
so that truth can be seen and carefully judged
and lies, and stories terminally be smudged.

Bring the unblinking cameras into the room
to give public witness and we may assume
that the spinners, the shapers of the story
will be drowned by truth in its raging glory.

The biggest story of our lifetime.
The greatest injustice and crime
being perpetrated on democracy
deserves a change in long-standing policy

Bring the cameras in  and show doubters the truth,
and if there be a defense worth hearing, let loose
for this is how justice works, on vertible facts
not crazy stories and insurrectionist acts.

For the defense of our democracy
in the face of attempted autocracy
requires everyone seeing it’s the rule of law
which will be the mighty’s  down fall.

Last night I laid awake
thinking of a poem, or was
it a song, which went on
and on in my head.

I thought to get out of bed,
to get it to paper, but I
persuaded myself I had
written it already.

It  was a grand flight of
fancy, travel to another
time and place, but it
seemed totally in reason.

Something I could sing
to the moon, and it was
beautiful, but now it is
but a memory of a feeling.

The song is gone, the poem
unwritten, but the feeling
of flight remains
etched in my heart.

Unrelenting when it blankets deaden  lands
causing waves and ripples across desert sands.

Creating its own tumultuous winds as a fire burns
and the choking dust, heat, smoke swirl and turns

paradise into hellscape, and lives once prosperous
become unbearable, deplorable and ponderous

from the enormous weight of the blanket of heat
which has now a life of its own, as it takes its seat

on the throne of all concern for what we have done
bringing climate to our lives, and what’s more to come

in the future of this world, for is this just the start
of something worse, and everything falling apart?

Geography and time Separate
and also Unite…

if we allow them such powers.

Ushered by a child to a table
to sit invisible in a service
dead-as-door-knob zone.

Watching service rendered
inefficiently to all others
by new highschool graduates.

Where one thing at a time
belays the visually apparent
fact they have two hands.

A drink served, from a bar
poorly provisioned without
limes on a busy weekend.

But we have bread and oil
and water, for the hour we
wait for our salads.

And yet we are seated,
listening to piped in jazz music
and each other…

We are not in a hot  sun
waiting in some monstrous
queue for a handout of food.

We are not lacking for
indoor air conditioning
and restroom facilities.

Our car waits in the lot
and we need not trek
to a border, or crowd in a boat.

We only require patience
and the recollection of how
greatly we are blessed…

and newly thankful for the lesson.

I’ve cried the Star-Spangled Banner
I’ve traveled America the Beautiful
I’ve faithfully Pledged Allegiance
I’ve sworn to protect her secrets
for which I had privilege to know.

I’ve saluted independence in poem,
and yet I’ve seldom realized
this is by fortune of birth for which
my joy and pride and all I respect
and hail as great is so rare and precious.

Independence and freedoms won
through blood and sweat and tears
and intellect and high ideals in times
long before, and in moments everyday
by those who keep the faith and
keep a most holy watch.

Something sought or required
Like the movie with Billy Crystal
who is looking for that One Thing.

But isn’t this what life is, the
Quaesitum… the grand quest in
life for that one thing?

As Curly said, in City Slickers
“It’s up to you to figure it out”
…  your one thing.

Life is a complicated thing
but so often the one thing
for each of us is a simple thing

May your life quaesitum
be worth the journey, worth the
quest, and you find your one thing!

The seas are a brutally unforgiving
place to challenge adventure, and even
more dangerous for migrations to a better life.

We are simultaneously fascinated with risk
of discovery while repelled by the desperate hope
for a better life for the most unfortunate of us.

We cannot look away as five
wealthy thrill seekers face
their tragedy of life existence…

While we can easily look past another
unremarkable sinking of an overcrowded
boat taking the lives of hundreds of migrants.

What is wrong with humanity and
our fascination with the extraordinary
adventures of a few wealthy tourists?

While the drowning of hundreds of
unfortunate migrants fleeing oppression
causes us nary a shake of the head?

Where is our interest, where is our
concern, what resources are applied
to rescue, what resource to prevention?

We must wonder about how we value lives
and how we mete out our limited
attention, resources and prayers?

A longing and desire
for something unique
for something tasty
for something valuable.

A tendency toward and
an affinity for activity
and action and power
a compulsion of sorts.

His need for power and
esteem is an appetency
which has driven his
entire existence.

Conveyed in crowd size,
ratings, the stars on the
shoulders of those who
served at his table.

The documents and trappings
of greatness, and importance
hoarded and protected
like fireflies in a bottle.

The women treated as
trophies of conquest,
no different than the
magazine covers, of his likeness.

Like Narcissus lost in the
his own reflection, he
has no soul, only the
reflection of a crafted image.

His appetency will be
the end of him just the same
and with this the honor
of all who held the mirror.

Appetency was the word of the day today… I thought it was very interesting…. the definition is included in the beginning of the poem. 

“Tonight, I say this to my Republican colleagues. You are defending the indefensible. There will come a day when Donald Trump is gone, but your dishonor will remain,”  … Liz Cheney.

Time is on my side says the patient man,
waiting for the moment to show his hand.

And yet time is no one’s friend,
it wins the long-game in the end.

Moments are very soon to pass
for those who thought it would last.

As if next-time would always be there,
because the last-time failed to declare.

And time will not be banked says the wise man,
it is to be spent before slipping through your hand.

The gift of present-time we should all be aware
is the most precious thing this life can share.