Monday, May 31, 2021

Poem: Stone Tell

 

Stone Tell

 

orion looked at me,

size of a pinprick,

quiet from a stone 

which i had scolded with my weeping.

cheekbone wet on mica flecks.

 

it was orion, for sure, after the pleiades,

over millions of metamorphic years,

much as in astronomic night--

 

and yet flashy like a kind adonis,

and not to ravish, not at all,

merely to scamper,

happy as sun-glossed quartz.

 

orion, he danced with the sisters,

leapfrogging to twinkle

in time with the turn of my wrist.

such lambent angles,


Oh!


what a treasure!

to walk the beach

and find this secret constellation

which had been absolved by waves, 


this wisdom,

 

however violent or jealous,

however monstrous,

now peaceful and beautiful,

nothing more to do with the cruel.

disaffiliated, yes, free now, 

free to dance,


only glitter and truth.



=========================










8/25 ... slight change last stanza

8/10/24 eds

Friday, May 28, 2021

If the Big Lie Wins, We All Lose

 

If the Big Lie Wins, We All Lose

The presidential election was not stolen from Donald Trump.  Over fifty court cases have shown this, all the way up to the Supreme Court, including many judges nominated by Trump himself.  Numerous state-run recounts have verified it.  GOP Secretaries of State as well.  There is no evidence to support the claim at all. Still, the Big Lie remains, a battering ram to knock down the defenses of our collective rationality.  It has become the faultline along which our democracy will either persevere or fall.

This is a grave assertion, and yet it results from a simple thought experiment:  What if the GOP, promulgating the Big Lie, wins?

 In that case, a party that willfully trampled a court-backed truth will be in control.  They will have the support of a segment of the population that is outraged at a nonexistent deep state that did something that didn’t actually happen. 

Moreover, given the nature of the Big Lie, our electoral system will have been successfully impugned as fraudulent.  Without a secure means to vote, the will of the people cannot be ascertained.

At the helm will be the cultish Trump, a demagogue who incubated the Big Lie many months before the 2020 elections.  Sitting on an established throne of conspiracy theory, he need merely extend the Lie, or make up another, to curtail future challengers.

Trump refused to agree to a peaceful transition of power, both before and after he lost the election, saying only, “We’ll see what happens.”  Indeed, on January 6, after he gave an inflammatory speech, his fanatic followers stormed the Capitol in an attempted insurrection.  Nothing like it has happened since 1814, and then it was foreign invaders.

Trump’s rapacious need for praise is more important to him than the survival of the republic.  His niece, Mary Trump, published a book titled “Too Much and Never Enough” in which she calls him “the most dangerous man in the world.”  Experts in psychology nationwide published an anthology, “The Dangerous Case of Donald Trump.” It diagnoses him as the most ruthless sort of narcissist, and warns of extreme peril if such a person takes over.

What happens if a leader turns a nation into an arena for self-glorification, regardless of damage to its people, traditions, and fortunes?  For starters, the loss of the ability to wisely adapt to change.  For someone who can never be wrong, there can be no error. 

Remember Trump’s absurd, contradictory claims during the pandemic, even as the death toll rose?  Now extend that to any sort of major challenge, whether crisis or opportunity.  Climate, tech, infrastructure, economics, cyberattacks, foreign policy and on and on.  There would be only the subjective, single-person strategy of someone focused on preening his own hungry ego.

When a constituency embraces their leader’s views, no matter how absurd, with the fervor of faith backed by a flimsy, deceitful logic of ‘alternate facts’, there is no need for competency, fairness, or accountability.  Corruption runs rampant, as we’ve already seen during Trump’s time in the White House. 

We have a recent historical example of what happens when god-complex leaders rise to power in the strongest countries.  That example is World War II.  We still ask today, “Why did all that awfulness and atrocity happen?”

Perhaps the answer lies in a perfect storm of dysfunctional swarm dynamics.  When you instill a worshipful mindset of black or white, good or evil, with us or against us, love or hate, then prudence, adaptive thinking and even common sense have no place.

 



==========

Sunday, May 23, 2021

Poem: Upside

 

Upside

 

anti-cinders

quick to plumb startled irises,

not-so-depthless pupils,

no aspect of the darkness left.


wings of the solar cleanse tarry wells 

to impel a gaze so high:

beyond the truculence of the sunken;

above the dull shamble-mumblings 

of what-were-human-now-sheep.


such daybreak!

 

glistens trickles through leaves,

athwart a flutter of springboards;

a hover of vibrancy,


not so serene, not yet,


for hope rises onward still, joyous.

joyous the ecstatic, radiant ladder.




=============

 

Friday, May 21, 2021

Poem: Watch

 

Watch

 

a cumulus-cauliflower eye

watches with mizzled logic

as we humans consume-fight-build-argue,

our neck veins a collective python

wrestling with other pythons for flags on hills

and the right to erect monuments.

 

with the calm of philosophers,

the stones and boulders observe us.

idylls of sweetsonging birds,

adept in the last rustles of majestic trees,

they watch us as we continue to fail

to extinguish the fires of our rage,

 

the ceaseless self-inflicted attacks

on those who look like us, voice like us, 

have hearts and souls like us,

and who cry out to unseen righteous gods,

like us,

 

we who we need to destroy, to shoot and hate,

to annihilate with our bare hands, if necessary,

those like us, and use our guns 



and guns and guns,

 

and the grass watches,

and the leaves,

and all that is left

of what is beautiful on this Earth,


they watch in peace, as we destroy 

those who are like us,

because we fear what we are 

more than we accept, 

even less love. 



========================



8/11/24 eds






"We preferred to keep silent. We are certainly not without guilt/fault, and I ask myself again and again, what would have happened, if in the year 1933 or 1934—there must have been a possibility—14,000 Protestant pastors and all Protestant communities in Germany had defended the truth until their deaths?"

Sunday, May 16, 2021

Poem: Der Rosenkavalier

 

Der Rosenkavalier

 

four hours of geometric hats

wider than absurd:

clowns, dandies, maskers,

cutpurses dressed like prunes,

orbiting Alice Coote in the trouser role

while she kisses Sophie,

kisses the Marschallin,

sapphic pianissimo

cresting to arias on diva pouts.

 

the boorish Baron

galumphing after skirts,

froward madman,

cannot forestall the spell of the rose.

when petals gleam from tufted stars,

Sophie and Octavian to emblazon and bless,

it enraptures the gleeful audience. 

 

comical evil, orchestral sobs, 

garish menageries, yes,

the opera reeks of farce,

and yet it melts in waltzes 

away from the the rose.


without such effloresce, 

the plot languishes.

because of it, frissons and sighs

all the way home.

 


 ============










8/11/24 eds


Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, Los Angeles, 2005
me and Kit

Thursday, May 13, 2021

Poem: Cookie

 

Cookie

 

a cute name for a snitch

in the business of lust.

it goes right for that most private pineal,

Descartes’ bridge,

where secrets babble forth 

between lobes steady as a brook,

vulnerable and sweet.

 

a coup d’etat for Toll House & co.

the gossip mind of the soul exposed,

all our inner palaces of personal ego 

wheedled, invaded, taken.

 

within lower floors 

of marketing firms on fancy Avenues, 

clerks giggle near admen

who monitor, label and jar

our deadly secret embarrassments

in gargantuan subterranean mainframes.

 

somewhere deep 

in the insatiable corporate guts

of offices sectioned like tapeworms,

executives map out the economic nation of our evils--

garnering clues from every click on keyboards--

to marry the doll of each citizen’s demon

with invisible, purchasable voodoo pins.



======================

 

8/11/24 eds








In case the lingo changes :

cookie = identifier label that secretly monitors a user's online internet clicks

Tuesday, May 4, 2021

Poem: Unsettled

 

Unsettled

 

the dust had no color,

the lost dreams of stones.

in every corner of the room,

where fate thronged thick,

the proof of the nothing 

lounged to look back in absence.


no style, nothing,

a stupid kind of trouble, 

unaware of its own desuetude.

a negative optimal, highly inert,

and yet still, somehow, it crept.

 

everyone, in fact, was in there,

a whole ogle of eyebrows,

a wide audience of furrowed fuzz,

from the heroic to the lewd.


many, many ancestral verdicts:

 a not-quite microscopic 

jackstraw puzzle of interlocked victories 

and taboos.

 

i could make them dance with a single breath.

a fury of sashays.  unkempt tarantellas.  

afterward to settle again,

nondescript and shrunken--

the opposite of dinosaur bones.


 the dust, though, 

carried the Primal Fetus in its eddies.

it had snipped a flagellum 

off the very first protozoan

and stuffed it into its shifting roam.

 

when lava cooled,

when the last flames sunk,

when nucleic helices swam pregnable waters,

the dust nibbled right away.


it was, even  back then, venturesome,

both opportunistic and avaricious,

multiplying its heads.



=========================












8/14/24 mods