Goodness and Mercy

Goodness and Mercy

follow me every day,.

Their footfalls softly fall

As I make my way.

As darkness drops ahead

they lift their torches

to light my way,

comforting through nights

that threaten

To never go away.

I hear their voices

in children at play.

I feel their touch in hugs

from friends keeping loneliness at bay.

I share their laughs and smiles

with strangers on my way.

I am carried in their arms

by those who lift my fears away.

I accrue my many debts

but it is they who pay.

They carry me toward my fate

when I would wearily delay.

And, when it seems useless,

they remind me to pray:

“Thank you, Goodness and Mercy

for following me all my days.“

USE YOUR WORDS

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How often we tell children

“Use your words.”

But, we forget too easily

that words have power

only if they are heard, 

and not dismissed breezily.

Men decided long ago

not to listen to women.

So many lies are told

to quiet women’s voices.

Eve has never been forgiven

for opening men’s eyes 

to painful truths.

Women’s voices are not more shrill.

Women’s screams are not made

to give men their thrills.

Women’s truths are too often

pushed aside to save male pride.

Doors are slammed shut

against voices women can trust.

“Use your words?”

How soon we forget.

Pain is the great motivator

of forgetfulness.

It deadens speech.

It silences words.

Bullies remind us of our pain

to shut our mouths

and drown truth out.

“Use your words!”

Do not forget their power

in the kitchen, in the bedroom,

in the schoolroom, in the boardroom.

“Use your words,” minute by minute,

hour after hour, until the day comes

you  can vote your own power

to “use your words.”

Think

“Anyone who has the power to make you believe absurdities has the power to make you commit injustices.” – Voltaire

Campaign Music

No single note is discordant.

No single vote voiced is wrong.

How the songwriter

puts the notes together

determines the song.

Our brains fine-tune our ears

to listen for the meaning

of words carried on the notes.

Some songs lift our spirits

to reach a higher cause.

Some songs depress our spirits

and make our hearts pause

with the fear of the other

we hated all along.

Some songs get us on our feet

to dance together, smile and sing.

Some songs hold us in our seats

ready to shout out in defeat.

The songs which truly make us strong

Are those we can rely upon

to offer hope, and love, and peace.

How the notes are brought together means everything.

The music that is America

is hard to sing if notes

are not treasured,

So many notes over so many years

from so many places refugees fled in fear

of famine, crime and even war.

We have sung the song of safety and of freedom,

welcoming all to our shore.

Songs that open minds and hearts

are the best place to start

a journey to a better future;

unlike the songs meant to keep us apart.

So many discordant notes

strung together create chaos,

not a strong and lovely song.

NO WORDS

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My words are in hiding.

They went south

on orders by an enemy

in a language unknown

on internet connections silenced

on phones which could not be charged

written on leaflets

dropped from the sky

with the dumb bombs

which destroyed the words

where I reside

in hopeless desires

for peace, at first;

now, simply, not to die.

My words and I moved south

to promised safety.

My words and I could not speak

of what we saw 

along the way

south,

leaning on false promises.

Still, my words must hide

in shelters bombed 

despite the promise

despite the effort

carrying my words

which are my children,

silent, on my back.

Trapped, my words and I

with nowhere to go.

Without hope.

No one speaks words;

Only the bombs may speak,

with a language of their own.

A language no one understands.

One no one ever wants to hear. 

My words hide here.

HAIKU FUNDAMENTALLY TRUE

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No confessional

can hold the sins of men done

in God’s Holy Name.

Right-wing Pharisees

roam the halls of governments

exercising hate.

They lie to themselves

stealing freedom’s greatest truths

to lie to us, too.

Money flows and fills

pockets-to-let to control

greed’s supremacy.

Unregulated

democracy fails to be

free for you and me.

Fascism now reigns

in God’s name, on lips profane

from pulpits and schools.

Separation fails

to protect laws, or faiths,

when religion rules.

Time to drive out the

money-changers from temples

of government, now.

We cannot allow

such hate and such harm to be

offered in our name.

Such Offertory 

should be left at the altar,

not legislatures.

AN ODE TO MIKE JOHNSON

A Speaker who speaks silently.

He hides in plain sight openly.

Bearing no color, chatting amiably,

amid many-hued others feverishly

there to cover stories that bleed wickedly.

He seems so normal; and, so confidently

preaches stories and fables smilingly.

Keeping all entertained endlessly

as their eyes fall from the prize of democracy,

Stolen and hidden in his wallet shamelessly

are votes cast, all hopes bashed easily.

He smiles calmly, benignly and evilly.

He leads as his party follows blindly.

Hiding in the spotlight openly.

His weight placed upon freedom crushingly.

LIFE

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This is all I know.

First, you come.

Then, you go.

This is all.

I know.

I know.

It is all I can know.

Yet something shows

from hidden places 

up and below.

Something unbidden

that hints at more, longer;

that feels better, stronger.

Where does more come from?

Where does more go?

Where did I come from?

Where shall I go?

It is never enough 

this life that I know.

This is all?

Can this be so?

I want to know.

I want to know.

I want to know.

HELL ON EARTH

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Prayer has been cheapened by the times.

We avoid the pews where fools recline

and bow their heads to fake news

while making money off government grants

for mega churches which promise service

to the poor and neglected, 

the hungry and disaffected;

yet, vote against every effort to create

a more humane and equitable State.

And, where women fall for the line they are Eve

and evil to want sex 

without admitting how complex

the use of birth control can be

when science is ignored and derided

that men can have all decided

in their favor. Their can be no life

when no egg is released to be indoctrinated

by men of the cloth who refuse to be sated

in their own desires. Instead, women are mired

in deceit and forced to bear the loss of self

to men’s control, if they want to feel blessed.

Enough of this unholy state 

which calls on God’s will to compensate

for their failure to mirror God’s true grace.

Prayer has been lost amid the fray

of those who still kneel to pray

to overcome others who fail to tow the line,

and pay politicians to do their will.

Too many souls have learned to be still

while lies are told and children instilled

with false ideology and true evil;

and their very lives lost to thoughts and prayers

cheapened by the politics of fear.

The path to Heaven has disappeared

as we live through hell right now, right here.

REBUILD AND RESTORE

Two people on ladders doing carpentry/building. by Mandt contract is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0

It is easy to become disillusioned

with institutions which we know,

and which have gotten us this far,

when we see the mess we are in.

So, what do we do? Organize anew?

And create institutions to do

what we have always done.

Does anyone believe our churches,

companies, and governments

were created out of hate?

Our newly formed groups are not new.

It is always the same.

Each tries to do its best, the best it can do.

The first rule of any group or institution,

like the first rule of each individual,

is to survive, and hopefully thrive.

Membership dues, costs and fees

keep each institution alive.

And money corrupts with greed

to be more, have more, do more.

It seems to be a human need.

As usual, we see the angry diatribe renewed

against religions and governments 

for what they have failed to do.

I ask, what do you do?

How many soup kitchens do you run?

How many hospitals have you built?

How many roads do you maintain?

How many times have you failed

to do your best, and ignore the rest

of us? We are only human.

Should our institutions be better?

If so, then so must we be.

Love is not a verb, but an action word.

Love helps us feel the way to act 

better than we ever knew we could.

Love erases the word “should”

with the act which rebuilds 

institutions of which we can once again be proud.

Tearing down is much easier, I know,

than rehabilitating the world

wherever we are, wherever we go.

Find your hammer, whatever it is.

Mine is words on a page.

Grab some nails and form a crew.

The whole world is depending 

on me, and, on you.

Let us rebuild, not tear down

what worked so well before

it became what we chose to ignore,

and let rot

under the weight of heavy storms.