Neutrality?

Neutrality?

Anyone who says they are neutral
is either a liar or fooling themselves
there can indeed be objectivity
but there cannot be neutrality
when it comes to elections.
Full stop!

And if someone does not vote
(and I know a few who will not)
they have not earned the right
to utter a word of complaint
for the next four years.
Full stop!

This is written for Susan's Midweek Motif - "Neutrality/Objectivity."
It is also shared with Sunday's Poetry Pantry.

October

October

October hangs heavy on the horizon
even the moon awaits November
the clock ticks slowly in dread
as the wise owl says whooo whoo?

Tension hangs heavy in the land
nightmares are not uncommon
neighbor argues with neighbor
some dare not speak at all.

Even if the winner is decided
will a fresh start be possible
or will the haters be inspired
to wave guns and embrace revolution?

Is diversity to be embraced
or will walls be built with
hatred and lies by one who
destroyed the American Dream?

October hangs heavy on the horizon
even the moon awaits November
the clock ticks slowly in dread
as the wise owl says whooo whoo?

This is written for / shared with Poets United Poetry Pantry.  I fear that I will be writing political poems until this election is over with.  I do think, at this point, that Hillary Clinton will win.  However, I still fear what will happen after the election, as the 'other one' has said he would only recognize the validity of the election results IF he won.  This is unprecedented. 

Conversation

Conversation


Conversation is a rare thing
in the day of social media
when people eye their phones
rather than talk with people
who are in the same room.

Conversation is a rare thing
election on everyone's mind
the elephant in the room
so no one wants to mention it
but everyone knows it's there.

Conversation is a rare thing
easier to just chat than converse
conversation means depthful talk
and so few people share depth
in this day and age.

Conversation is a rare thing
as we shake hands and smile
how are you just fine
and of course you are fine too
nothing more to say.

Conversation is a rare thing
perhaps a dying art
and like so many good things
who will miss it
until it is gone?

This is written for Susan's Midweek Motif:  Conversation.  And, by the way, if you have not read Sherry's conversation with Susan & her involvement with social justice, please read this excellent 'conversation.'

These are Special Times

These Are Special Times

These are special times
I don't say much on Facebook
after a while there is not much to say
no one cares what individuals think
because all have access to the same news
it is what one choose to read and believe

I try to keep silent most of the time
but in my heart I don't feel silent
I want to shout and scream
as I fear the mob he has created
and the rhythmic marching and salutes
and though he cannot win (can he?)

I fear the monster has been unleashed
and what can I do really?
Besides vote my choice and pray
for sanity in this nation in which
so many have embraced the demon
destroying the fabric of our country
in so many different ways.

I do wonder what to do as I
feel powerless against the lies
and I am sleepless so many nights.

"I wonder if we also serve
who only stand and wait."

I am using Susan's words "I wonder if we also serve
who only stand and wait" as inspiration for this poem.
I fear that most poems I write until our election is over
will be political.

Wealth

Wealth

I cannot help but be cynical
when it comes to wealth
in these political times
when money has created the demon
who thinks he is above the law
who screams and shouts his lies
talks about making America great again
after being personally responsible
for ripping away the fabric
of American dignity
as he has exposed the world
to his baser side as his followers
defend him as 'pussy' becomes
a dinner table word, as he insults
blacks and Muslims and the
differently abled, as he threatens
to jail his opponent and build
a wall while courting Putin--but
never mind that the evangelicals
(do you think they really follow Jesus?)
follow not realizing
they are being led over the
cliff of no return as they
raise their right arm in salute.

Written for Poets United
Midweek Motif where the 
prompt is"wealth."

 

A Walk in Autumn

It is early morning. I walk along the forest trail with my dog. All around me I see the signs that fall approaches. Leaves turn orange. Some brown, already on the ground. They crackle beneath my feet. Flowers have dropped or are no longer fresh. Death is on the horizon. Chill is in the air. My dog sniffs the earth.


The strong maple tree
with leaves of orange and yellow
shades me as I walk

I see a deer. No, wait, there are three. Still as statues, they watch me as I pass. One is a fawn, so beautiful and gentle. Innocent in the wild, trusting its mother, the protector. I try not to make a sound. My dog does not bark. Amazing.

The fawn studies me
does not know if I am friend
or a foe to fear

I pass the small lake, the one that birthed pollywogs last spring. Now I don't even see frogs. Where do frogs go in autumn? The ducks must have have flown south, but the blue heron remains, glides on the water, awaiting the call to go. My dog stays with me, gladly.

So much life goes south
only hardy survive here
but all will return


Shared with Poets United Poetry Pantry.

To Teach

To Teach

So what did I teach
when it cannot be discerned
what was learned

where have my words gone
before blowing away in the wind
did anyone hear my wisdom

I shake my head
try to hold back tears
is all really so futile

Perhaps I am cynical
one who has lost faith
and cannot rise up

I close the book
and walk away.....

This is written for Susan's Midweek Motif:  "Teaching"  - in honor of October 5 as World Teaching Day.