It’s MLK Day
the mail will not come
some people take a day.
Too few people think
about what his words
really mean to them.
Too few people share
his dream, for it
requires reaching out.
Too few people find
his words in their
sheltered hearts.
Too few people will
understand what
I’m saying here.
Only that the
mail didn’t come
and school’s out.
We’ve spun out of control.
So I heard it said.
It did not start this way,
but here we are in the
spin-cycle.
We start with a spin
around the room,
a fun look as babes
at the world so
beautiful, so small.
We spin for the joy
of disorientation
as we stumble
and fall about,
still growing.
We spin for love
in the ever-blessed
dance-of-life for
which it is perfect
to celebrate.
We’ve seen the world
and room spin
as we take fun and
celebrating a bit
farther than advised.
But the spin we can
really do without
is imposed by those
who deceive in their
sucking whirlwind.
They spin so fast
they confuse the
momentum of the top
as stability. But it
surely is wobbling.
When it crashes,
losing power against
the resistance
of truth it will
spew out a mess.
However, in the end,
the world will spin-on
unchanged no
matter how we
or they tried to spin it.
Sorry for frequent readers about the repeated theme, but I feel I must express my fervent concern over the continued rise of autocratic forces (fascism in reality). The slippery slope away from democracy toward dictatorship starts with populism. Populism which is anti-policy, anti-plans, and pro-grievances and pro-fears finds the underbelly of society, the hatred and fears which is being tapped into. The themes are tested in rallys and then exploited further… todays themes are deep-state (the swamp – holding us back, coming for our guns, etc.) and immigration (latent racism, economic fears, safety fears)… populism successfully gets a large part of society to vote against their own immediate and long-term self-interest.
The GOP strategy book says we cannot win the economic argument on tax reductions for the rich, or on reduction in social benefits (smaller government) so we’ll pursue culture wars and further a divisive populist agenda. But populism leads to a worship of the culture warriors, and as the populists feel besieged, especially by the state, they want fighters who claim to be right, never wrong. To get past reasonable doubt, to get past reason, alternate facts, conspiracy and blatant lies are needed to migrate from populism to cultism. Cultism … always right… gets us to power makes right, and intolerance to opposing views, and if power makes right, who needs compromise. If you don’t need compromise for governance, what is the point of democracy… a very slippery slope from democracy to autocracy.
Watch the House of representatives. Jim Jordan the insurrectionists who sought pardons for himself and other congressmen will be given the gavel to investigate the government, to issue subpoenas when he had not honored subpoena from the Jan. 6 committee investigation.
The attacks that will come, the attempted weakening of our government’s justice, and democratic institutions (including voting rights)… the idea that power is all that matters, tolerating cheating to get in office, like Santos, just so they have the additional vote. Taking over government through violence, Jan 6 Coup attempt. Exportation of these ideas to Brazil and other countries, make the rise of fascism a global problem. We are in a true Orwellian time. Beware what lies ahead on this very slippery slope.
I was listening to an article on the topic of lost and found, and the writer was putting things from her life into these categories. But what was not said, at least in the NPR audio, was what I thought was the essence of the words Lost and Found… that only something of value could be lost and anything lacking value will never be found. Value is the determining element… and so this poem:
LOST and FOUND
Look here, look there, look in your heart
for only what is precious can ever be lost.
Find this, find that, and feel for this, for it
must be valuable to be worthy of being found.
And what is valuable to me may not to you,
for there are things and more than things
of which to consider.
What can be replaced, and what never
will be replaced, and what can be repaired,
and what will never be repaired, and if
the value is no longer there, it is no
longer lost, nor could ever be found.
But what we can never lose and we can
always make valuable is what we do
and say and feel in the precious moments
of now we find for ourselves by grace of
fortune and spirit.
See where we are, see that on the two year anniversary of an insurrection attempt we are unbelievably divided. Two years of continued blindness to the lie, blindness to what this is doing to our great nation. Two years later the traitors to democracy; democracy…which must be defined by the the peaceful transfer of power… are still trying to burn down the system, and replace it with an autocracy, a system where power is all that matters.
Open your eyes Republicans to the danger of the insurrectionists you’ve coddled in order to achieve power… it isn’t working and it is dangerous to democracy. Help is just across the aisle.
Open your eyes Democrats to the opportunity in front of you this very week! Make a deal with the moderates in the Republican party who are under siege… create a coalition government, allow a moderate Republican representative be Speaker, in exchange for agreement to address the country’s issues, including immigration, debt-ceiling, assault rifles, drug crisis and a national abortion law… there is much to do… use this opportunity to rescue democracy, use this opportunity to change it from us and them, to We The People. Isolate the extremists and give them no quarter.
Open your Eyes America… make our government work… save our democracy for future generations!
The swing swings devoid of spirit
while strolling sad and quiet near it.
Dusty groan of a merry-go-round
objecting to being pushed around,
and teeter-totters tilt no more without you.
As a lithe light carefully filters through
and the shadows are familiar gray
as trees whisper, but don’t quite say
what they mean when lost leaves fall
cluttering the grass just a bit too tall
walking in remembrance of time long ago
when we blissfully didn’t quite know
how tired such a thing could become
without the blessing of youthful fun.
Another cold December morning,
too cold to walk, as is my custom.
Seems better to sleep-in
and rising to write
some thoughts
put a log on the fire.
It burns warming the room,
giving a nice golden glow,
like a sunrise in the room,
it is peaceful it seems,
but of course it is violent
just as every sunrise is both.
It’s Christmas Eve and all through the world
many are stirring restlessness in fitful sleep.
For there are storms of evil exposed in the East,
and faithless father-figures failing everywhere.
And though there’s surely a renewal of Christmas faith
with those who in the dark and bitter cold, and flashes
of war in the night sky and with those protesting with
uncovered hair, or fearing life-threatening diseases.
The world in danger, as it was four score and seven years ago,
with a rise of this evil presenting a third type of hell.
It is now it seems a baby of future-hope may be born,
In the most humble of beginnings, and difficulty of times.
Will she be cold in the dark with a star of fire in the skies,
Or in the Kurdish mountains with defiance in her eyes.
Or possibly in oriental lands threaten by disease and strife
Or even along a border as her mother seeks a better life.
She will come in this world of ours and we’ll come to know
there’s more to Christmas then decorations and lights aglow.
There is hope for salvation beyond religious show, and the spirit
brings us wisdom, love and hope if we’ll open our ears to hear it
… and hearts to feel it.