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 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?

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.