Dissidents must craft

songs of compassion and hope

blazing the path to progress.

~

It’s been songs sung in

fields and on the road that have

helped us overcome.

No room at the inn.

The stable doors are slammed shut.

What have we become?

~

Simple primatives 

cowering in baseless fear

craving potent guardians?

Not all nausea

can be blamed on the White House,

but who else shares the burden?

~

We also find it

hard to stomach the support

 big donors give to small minds.

What part of “Love thy

neighbor” do Trump-supporting

fundamentalists not get?

~

Either there’s no love

in their hardened hateful hearts

or they ken zero neighbors.

Perhaps doomsday prep,

long a practice of the right,

is finding new adherents?

~

Doomsday prevention

is what pink hatters seek. They’ve

had enough of doomsday speak.

.

What helps us see past

thoughts, feelings, and memories

to present reality?

~

Non-duality

teaches us that things just are;

neither good nor bad.

Flying in the face

of all historic wisdom:

how does it profit a man?

~

When economic

profit is the main motive

we lose wisdom and our souls.

When lies are renamed

alternative facts are we

in Orwell’s reality?

~

This tornado spins

logic and reason away:

far from Kansas are we, friends.

Would you not prefer

a conditionless embrace

to tirades and punishment?

~

The best would be to

be held in abiding love

and unconditional truth.

If they wrap themselves

in red, white, and blue, will folks

ignore what they actually do?

~

Unfortunately,

wrapping an ass in glory

will lead some to snap salutes.

Thus a new day dawns;

an iridescent morning

rife with scarlet sailor’s skies.

~

“Red sky at morning,

sailor take warning” – even

nature says beware.

Why is it that we

seldom appreciate what

we had until it is gone?

~

What is near at hand

can be studied close enough

to find every tiny flaw.

A final luncheon

leaves a lasting taste of hope

but what will the next meal bring?

~

Savor the moment

and let it satisfy the 

hungry need to know.

In this uncertain

world, how do we find a way

to walk with surety?

~

Place our feet with care

anticipating quaking

from our fracking President.

Gray and cold and wet

may describe the weather or

perhaps something much grimmer.

~

Didn’t we elect

someone who’s cold, all wet, and

old enough to know better?

Grace under pressure,

not deceit and bluster, is

the mark of courage.

~

Just as bombast is

born of insecurity;

a mark of inner terror.

What kind of a man

keeps right on hurling punches

after having won the fight?

~

An insecure man

who doesn’t know when enough

is enough behaves like this.

When they say what’s true

is false and what’s false is true,

who are we listening to?

~

It must be the news

that’s calling false that what’s true;

that’s what soulless cowards do.

Eighteen yesterday

and sixty eight tomorrow:

what does that mean for today?

~

Behind the “eight” ball

on gradual weather shifts

is what it means for today.

Is that the sound of

his tweets I hear or is it

the chirps of some other bird?

~

Perhaps the Dodo

chirped with such a frequency,

leading to its extinction?

Frigid air and snow

soon to be replaced with balm;

how will we survive it all?

~

If we focus on

what’s right here we can learn

to play it by ear.

When you are back in

the harness, can you still find

a way to be free?

~

Even in traces

our thoughts are free to wander

o’er hills and verdant meadows.

This arctic freezing

that has descended on us;

will it bring only a chill?

~

“Chill” is putting it

mildly. What we’ve got is

a big, bad headache and cold.

Any advice on

how to survive a day with

moody teens and snow?

~

One would imagine

you are seeking suggestions

much more profound than “Just chill.”

The weekend arrives

bathed all in shimmering white;

is it a gift or a curse?

~

One person’s blessing

is another person’s curse.

Snow’s come for better or worse.

In January

a ladybug came into

   our home. Could this be a sign?

~

Auspicious blessings,

in strength as red as the hue,

as long as the count of dots.

Into this grim day,

Chilled by this greyish fatigue,

what can cast a little light?

~

Though the clouds linger,

the sun still made its presence

known, bringing a bit of light.

Their stealth plan to gut

independent review of

their ethics is Trumped. What’s next?

~

When you find the pea,

thinking you have won the game,

look for what the barker’s palmed.

Congestion and cough

may produce prodigious snot;

is it a portent or not?

~

Hard to believe but

scientists claim that snot is

the body’s protective salve.

So the new year is

underway. What can you say

to sustain us in the fray?

~

For better or worse,

at least the new year will bring

new cause for indignation