Questions of Heroes and Saints

Do heroes have to be perfect

in order to earn our respect?

Must they be free from all blemish?

Is that what we’ve come to expect?

How much stain, how much tarnish,

how much of a character blemish

can be glossed over by splashing

on coats of whitewash and varnish

before the seething and gnashing

of the oppressed leads to the trashing

of monument to those held dear

in eruptions of violent clashing?

The answers, my friends, are clear.

Let’s open our ears and try to hear

the history of brutal oppression

that cause so many to live in fear.

Since if we can’t learn this lesson

we’ll lose more than an election!

Folks, it’s high time to reject

this notion that every hero warrants beatification!

Friends, Family, and Loved Ones.

As we prepare for this Memorial Day; a time to honor and thank all of those who sacrificed their lives to assure that our American society could continue, I would like to take a few minutes to propose a little thought experiment.

My purpose is to cast neither blame nor judgement but rather to inspire contemplation and encourage conscious choice in our celebratory behavior.

Many of us will gather in groups, Monday, to pay tribute to our fallen ancestors. Imagine you are there, in that gathering now, well before you actually arrive. Think about this example, and let your conscience be the guide to your personal behavior.

Picture in your mind, the celebratory environment you plan. Imagine the size of the crowd. Think about the personalities of the people with whom you will be gathering. Consider their occupations and the number of people they must interact with daily and the closeness of those interactions. Contemplate, based on those factors, how many of the people gathered will be wearing masks and how many will not. Honestly and fearlessly reflect on whether you or your immediate family will be masked or unmasked. Do you have that image firmly in your mind?

Now comes the hard part- please read the remainder with an open mind and do not assume any prejudice!

Imagine that at the culmination of the celebration, a time comes for everyone in the crowd to draw a handgun and fire all rounds straight up, into the air- kind of a all guns salute to the fallen. Appropriate, since we are honoring those who fell in battle to assure our freedom.

Thinking back of the image you formed earlier of your holiday crowd, imagine that all those wearing masks are firing blanks and all those without are firing live rounds.

Ask yourselves, in all honesty, would you wish that you and your family, friends, and loved ones were also wearing military helmets or had, even, chosen to celebrate somewhere else?

An Unplanned Siesta

Again, I find myself

Standing at a crossroads,

Pondering directions.

Unsure which path to take.

Should I? Could I? Perhaps?

~

The sun is overhead.

At the roadside, flowers.

Birdsong lilts from afar.

Wheat heads rustle nearer.

~

It’s been a long journey,

Full of rush and bother,

That led me to this place.

~

Beside these thoroughfares

I shall pause, breathe, relax.

~

There’s time for a siesta.

His Master’s Voice?

They must think us dogs

salivating to their bells

doing tricks for tiny treats!

~

And how can they not

when we drool at every cue

playing games they tell us to?

~

Is there any choice?

After all, they hold the cards

and set the rules we must regard.

~

Why must we regard

their arbitrary edicts

when their only care

is their self-serving interests?

Bite the hands that feed, I say!

Ignore their strident bellows!

Exercise our every freedom!

Let us run across the meadows!

Stuck in the Middle with Him

Three oh one point nine!

Broadcast on all the networks.

Label it Fake News

And some will eat that sandwich

Unaware its their last meal.

Our neighbors may, even yet,

Construct and pay for his great wall

If only to shut him in.

And could you blame them?

Hopefully, in time

When we wake up and appeal

For them to let us exit

They will show us charity

Alien to our leader!

Ageless Wisdom

An unlikely trio

Chatter in language all their own

Incomprehensible 

To us older, wiser souls.

And yet the thought remains,

In whom is wisdom contained?

In them there is joy

Playful, exuberant, free,

And in us there is misery

Waiting on line, at the DMV.

From them, I take my cue;

No matter what the mission be

I can choose boredom’s due,

Or I can choose emotions free.