Let me pass to you
A cup of empty joy.
Raise my glass
To loneliness
And a bitter slow goodbye.
Moral Combat
Watching it all play out
On national television,
All that I could think
Was that we really could do better
In the choosing of our champions
And the resolution of the combat.
In the back of my mind
I thought of Alice, Texas
In the fall of 1948
And the mysterious miracle of Ballot Box 13.
Yet there is quite a difference
Between knowing a bit of history
And actually making accusations
From the Whitehouse bully pulpit.
On this one thing I am certain,
That no matter who wins this battle
The process has weakened their position
And the standing of this nation.
There will be no mandate for action —
Only more cries from the sidelines
That a duly elected person
Cannot possibly be “my president”.
The process tears at our fabric
Reopens the old wounds
In our national psyche
Refusing to allow them to heal.
We should be saddened that the runup
To the 2024 election
Starts in earnest today.
Chalice
Reading and writing
Poetry failed
To repair my soul
Loving you did.
Drumbeat
It’s in your head
the endless thrum
So many dead
and more to come
Jobs have left
and jobs returned
The poor look up
entreaties spurned
Stuff in the street
from jobless folks
To make an omelet
you break some yolks
The beat goes on
there is no end
Hope flees the scene
and madness trends
We blame each other
and people dance
To see the split
between our brothers
So turn it off
and lift your head
Work for the good
and mourn the dead
Pick up the pieces
and heal yourself
Give in to your
much better self
Time to reach out
to the other side
We already know
too many died
Sweep up the ruins
without a fuss
Build it back
for all of us
Humanity (choose your own adventure)
Can we reach our better side
bringing hard work to new visions
or are we only fight or flight?
Thoughts and prayers sent up the flue
papering over our divisions
all the hate we thought was through
We are made of contradiction
making peace is part of us
but fighting wars is our tradition
We are conflicted, we are still one
a little hope would be a plus
it seems so long ere the day is done
We can act with malice and spite
or press forgiveness to our hearts
fighting upwards to the light
Isolation in a divided nation
our brains are made for social smarts
stewing in our own frustration
All alone in our four walls
will our future be secure
drifting sadly through drafty halls
Turn to the very last page
willful pique or mindless cure
will it be peace or curdled rage?