Seeing Red

Amidst a mess of document

left in a box in this old home,

new to us these last few years,

mixed among the old receipts

for plumbing work and seedling trees

and appliance manuals

for appliance dinosuars

long gone to their extinction,

I found a weathered yellow sheet

Typed upon in fading blue,

a restrictive covenant

that pierced my heart. Could it be true?

Did my predecessor here,

in this vibrant melting pot,

this neighborhood of polyglots,

seek, back then to enshrine

his bigotry upon the land

from that point and for all time?

Yes, my friends, I’m sad to say,

around the time my dad was born,

some lofty ass took it to mind

to codify a huge red line

around this humbled cot of mine.

Dawning Images (38)

All these little aches

accompany us daily;

our lifetime boon companions.

Weathering

Like the well worn seat

in my old, hard driven, car,

molded, thus, by many miles

this nostalgic ache

dwelling here, where grief once lived

is my new life’s companion.

Anodyne Applied

Dawn’s fury displaced

by a walk among the blooms.

Harmony restored.

Among Us

There is lots of room

in which all of us may dwell

here between God and Satan…

even our politicians.

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.

Baptismal Balm

Basking in the flood

of, maybe too hot, showers;

washing aches away.

Savage Waters

This disease leaves wounds,

rivers both wide and deep.

Too deep for fording

and much too wide for bridges,

so we build ferries

and brave treacherous waters,

holding connections

to our loved ones long estranged

by these savage waters wide.

Harken Ozymandias

With your every stride

Fallen leaves and memories

Fragment into mulch.

You think yourself bold,

Decisive man of action:

Midas of decay;

Modern day Nero:

Tweeting while Rome succumbs

To internal flames.

Survey these ashes

Stark remains of the fury

From your careless match.

Where Colossus stood

Only dust and rubble stir

In warm autumn breeze

And yet:

Despite your chaos,

Slender verdant tendrils grow

Rooting your ruins

Proving to you, Wretched Waste,

That even now, hope remains.

The Morning After

When cheers subside

And mournful sobbing ceases,

All that remain is more mess.

Katauta 3 Nov 2018

What old friends may lack

In style, flare, or fashion

Is far outweighed by comfort.

History Senryū 10 Jun 2016

From these first twelve steps

A vast movement arises

Saving people’s lives