Shhh!

A day sunny and bright

Or rainy and dark like night

So much to do or maybe not

It might be cold or maybe hot

A weekend’s quiet afternoon

Or workday getting away soon

Any way you look at it by me

A glorious afternoon it can be

With just a little nap time

That can be all mine o’mine

Today the Olympic closing ceremonies will occur.  For a couple of weeks, we witness high-level performance of athleticism as well as examples of great sportsmanship.   Imagine that so many people gather to celebrate the purity of sports and the example of dedication these athletes put into their pursuit of sport.  We’ve seen examples of athletes helping others, of embracing at the end of an event or race, appreciating the dedication and sacrifices shared.  We’ve seen gracious crowds appreciating the efforts as athletes expose themselves to injury, exhaustion and more often failure than conquest.  Sure we too celebrate the great victories and the greatest victors, but it is always with respect for all the competitors.   There is no racism, there is no hate-mongering, there is only understanding and respect we see.   I think of our political discourse in our country is something of an athletic, contact sport.  Sure some bruising competition is expected, like the rugby and soccer, and wrestling and even jostling on 5000 meter races, but why can we not stay within the bounds of civility and respect?   Think about the Olympics, the greatest issue between athletes was the disgust for those that would not play fair, those that used performance enhancing drugs to give them an edge over athletes that worked so hard to get to the games.  Even in this extreme case it was honest expressions in defense of the Olympic values we witnessed.

The vitriolic language and insulting behavior especially by Trump in our political competition, but certainly not restricted to his brand of politics, is beyond the bounds of fair competition.  I fear that the anger and hate he has tapped into and is encouraging is tearing the social fabric of our country.  I fear that it doesn’t end with completion of a race, then we all hug and appreciate each other as Olympians do… but rather it continues and seethes and surges through-out, in manifestations of senseless violence stoked by continued outrageous statements.  What really was wrong with Political Correctness, which is just a snarky word for “Respect”.  Do we not have respect for each other and our differences which are rarely ever as great as our similarities?   With the closing ceremonies tonight, I hope we can find a way to tap into the Olympic example and bring back respect, fair competition and even Political Correctness.  Then maybe we can really keep America Great!

Be humble of heart, expressive of soul and open of mind

Difficult at times in the world we live… but I think it is necessary reminder to what I aspire to be…  I wrote the following on the cover of a first book of poems I wrote as my way of expressing my thoughts as I was embarking on a sharing of my inner-self through my poems and stories.  I have repeated it here to express my gratitude for everyone that has not been a lion in their critique of my writings as well as to remind myself humbly that the world may never notice or care that I wrote such thoughts, but I’m happy that you do… thank you!

Check my ego at the lions lair

Exposing my soul with little care

Little will the world later note

What this writer here hath wrote

Summer Marches Toward Fall

The world is quiet for me

Well really not I think I see

The mantel clock ticks on

Always forward, it marches on

And the leaves rustle in the trees

Wiggle and giggle like busy bees

Green they are supple and free

Well not quite so, tied to a tree

They work until fall’s chill

Soon to be dead and still

In that fall sunset before night

They show their colors bright

For those few weeks they are true

Shining bright for me and you

The mantel clock ticks on for all

As summer marches toward fall

“Man, unlike any other thing organic or inorganic in the universe, grows beyond his work, walks up the stairs of his concepts, and emerges ahead of his accomplishments.” 

― John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

Only through our ability to work together, to imagine beyond our existence, to grow beyond our limitations is this possible…

Mickie’s Meatballs

First our hands we carefully clean

Because nasty germs they are mean

Find a big bowl good for mixing

And small stool for height fixing

A pound and half of meat

Pork and beef is really neat 

Precisely measure you see

Two handfuls or more of IBC

(Italian Bread Crumbs)

Three eggs and no shells into bowl they go

Season with garlic, salt and oregano 

Another careful measure of parmesan cheese

If you must, only  bit of pepper, just don’t sneeze 

Now a little olive oil a tablespoon or two

And have Mickie mix it all just for you

Rolling into balls is her favorite fun

Hands small but she gets it done 

Fry them brown in a pan

Then into sauce if you can

Homemade sauce in best for you

But we just open a jar of Ragu

They simmer and cook smelling yummy for awhile

Then taste Mickie’s meatballs, you cannot help but smile!

Around the year 72000 BC an enormous volcano eruption in Sumatra (Indonesia) having the force of 1.5 million atomic bombs, causing a nuclear winter for the world, that lasted several years.  Our human ancestors population was killed off through loss of food sources, so that no more than three to ten thousand survivors were left.  Today all 7 billion of us are descended from this small group of survivors.  This makes us one of the most genetically close species in nature… from David Baker and “Crash Course Big History”  … The thought for our consideration is that for all the divisiveness in our world we are much more like all those people we think are different from us than not.  

They Seeded Our Future

Then the rains blew through but not for us

The earth cracked and paled and loosened

We waited, watched and figured unjust

The winds came and lifted the dirt

The sky was dark the sun didn’t show

The air was thick and stinging it hurt

The tenuous hold of prosperity our land

Banks know but not care of soil no longer

Time to leave and escape this desert sand

In bucking junk of a truck, lucky ones leave

Others walk or hitch or rail must ride

To a paradise, a promised land of lush and leaf

The road is hard, some will fail, others die

There is no certainty only hope to drive us on

No one looks back just move, shrug and sigh

Millions of others too demand a chance

Just like we, need a place to work and earn

A place to teach, learn and even to dance

But sorrow and difficulty like never before

The fields are controlled and pay is meager

We buy what we can from company store

Hunger is everyday, this migrant life of hell

Organize for safety and wages if you can

Survive beatings, floods and keep children well

We are needed soon, a call to action bell doth toll

We will rise up above for a world’s higher cause

We will feed each other, give sustenance to the soul

We are a precursor to a fairer world, a better life

One which we and our children must earn

With blood, sweat, incredible toil and strife

Inspired by the Grapes of Wrath

Riding high

Chancing extraordinary

Such fine and fickle winds

Suffering first occasioned loss

Lifted spirit flying

Rounding once again

Tenuous the line and hold

A slight movement 

Exaggerated response

Down is up, up is down

Yet higher and beyond

Hearts do sing 

With lines release

Seeking stability 

Pulled even higher

Chasing extraordinary