How many shoulders
were dislocated this month,
patting themselves on the back?
~
The answer, my friend,
is blowing in the wind that
swept humility aside.
How many shoulders
were dislocated this month,
patting themselves on the back?
~
The answer, my friend,
is blowing in the wind that
swept humility aside.
Where, oh where have those
old values gone in this age
of gross incivility?
~
Statesmanly reason,
and measured, nuanced response,
offer no zippy soundbites.
How can people tell
politicians from statesmen
before the ballots are cast?
~
Before and after –
statesmen don’t scorch the earth,
they nourish and protect it.
If Trump can’t govern
his tongue, how can we expect
him to govern a nation?
~
Some people believe
that he who governs the best
is he who governs the least.
How can this great noise
emanate from one with such
an insignificant voice?
~
For him to be great
again requires only
volume but not a sound plan.
How many maxims
can you state and break before
you have completely maxed out?
~
One with no compass
relies on sententious pomp
rather than admit he’s lost.
What did Wilde call
he who knows everything’s price
yet has no clue its value?
~
Cynics fit the bill
but never want to pay it –
not now or going forward.
Why not begin and
end the day with gratitude
for one small happening?
~
One small happening
that punctuates every day
assures gratitude.
Must politicians
always found their campaigns on
endless animadversions?
~
Negativity
and blame is much easier
for those of small heart and brain.
Why do we insist
that father knows best when it’s
clear that mother knows better?
~
Fathers and mothers
comfort and protect the young:
perhaps adults need neither.
However can we
hope to salvage sanity
in this constant news cycle?
~
The wheel goes round and
the sanest among us jump
off and find sanity there.
Do idiots bloom
or do they simply unfold,
revealing their ignorance?
~
There is a fragrance
to an unfolding blossom:
from idiots, more a stench.
As summer swelters
and tempers begin to fray,
how can we knit social wounds?
~
The best we can do
in the heat of the moment
is pause and listen.
Have you considered
how the world might be improved
if we thought before we talked?
~
Nothing would get worse
if we thought before we talked…
and talked before we acted!
When the big wind hits
Cleveland, will it silence you
or blow you away?
~
Though I don’t live there,
I’m confident we’ll all hear
catterwalling even here.
What might a chipmunk
want a poet to know and
what keeps him silent?
~
His message is lost,
be it mundane or profound,
muffled by cheeks full of nuts.
When the fire burns
or when the rain doesn’t fall,
are we better off than trees?
~
It’s all a matter
of whom the question is asked –
each of us or all the trees.
As we sit and look
at the forest, can you tell
me what we can learn from trees?
~
Each tree can teach us
that we are at the mercy
of forces beyond control.
How can we prepare,
now, in this summer, for fall,
lest we be caught, unaware?
~
Rather than prepare
for what’s not yet come, why not
enjoy what’s right here?
When the day is done
what do you look back upon
with pleasure and a smile?
~
The problems I solved
that they didn’t know they had
in ways they can’t understand?
As the days heat up
right along with politics,
can we ever keep our cool?
~
A breath of fresh air
can lower the heat of both
days and politics.
When the powerful
are held to a different set
of rules, how do we keep hope?
~
Just hope that justice
has been served and the noisey
rhetoric is sour grapes.
Does it seem to you
that choosing the least of three
evils is an evil choice?
~
Faced with no choice but
to choose, a choice based in love
can’t be considered evil.
If we could peer past
differences, what might we see,
and what might we learn?
~
We might see the face
of divinity, and learn,
at long last, to live in peace.
If I hold the reins
while someone else draws the plow,
do I become the tyrant?
~
If you use the reins
only to guide and steady,
you’re no tyrant then.
.
When caught between rocks
and hard places, how would you
suggest we get out?
~
In that narrow space
between rocks and hard places
is where souls are finely milled
And if by some chance,
we shed our yoke of bondage,
will our fields ever get plowed?
~
Wouldn’t you like to
hold the reins as you plow fields
of your own making?
Independence Day ?
then why are we enslaved
by corporate tyranny?
~
Do we not all wear
shackles of our own creation
at least to some degree?
When orbits decay,
does a falling body know
where’s the point of no return?
~
Brits might say knowing
arrives when reality
finally comes crashing in.
Is it a matter
of talent, influence, or
luck that leads to prominence?
~
Never trust in luck
but when talent and skill fail,
influence buys infamy.