Peter’s Seventieth

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Image may contain: 4 people, people sitting and indoorWe all know of Peter and his fairy pal Tink,
and army of Lost Boys from fount of youth did drink.
Neverland far away, yet ever is it nigh,
ADA accessible, as we all can fly.

Fly away in spirit, God Father, Son, and Ghost!
My Cath’lic upbringing this play reflected most.
Not too far from Dubuque, in eastern Iowa,
is where I lived longest, tall corn and short soya!

I too am an orphan, I too am four of five,
play made me remember times long ago slipped by.
Sarah captures nicely Midwest mid-century,
Wendy, John and Michael, Jane and Hook all family.

First we lost our mother and then we lost our dad;
only one not present when our Royal Dame passed.
Ten years span of siblings, eldest turns sixty-two
all love one another; I’m liberal in the room.

Spread out cross the nation, triangle of vast size
from D.C. to Memphis hypotenuse inscribes.
Though great is the distance hearts are our winning suit
for love of family for all’s an absolute.

Known to act a fairy, flit merrily around,
though the years weigh heavy life still holds me spellbound.
Here’s to sister Peter, my John and brother Mike,
Jane’s our youngest sibling, I will Captain our flight.

We all know of Peter and his fairy pal Tink,
and army of Lost Boys from fount of youth did drink.
Fly away in spirit, God Father, Son, and Ghost!
My Cath’lic upbringing this play reflected most.

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Love Her So

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Image may contain: one or more people, cloud, sky, eyeglasses and outdoorIf she were an angel might be named Lucifer,
not casting dispersion cuz in truth I love her.
Love her for her power, her great embracing soul,
me she helped to foster; with direction cajoled.

Arc of storytelling by angel who is arch;
if she were an angel Michael would be her mark.
Spirit of a warrior, a shrinking violet not;
theatre pharisees have plucked her feathers out.

Delivered to Purdah for perceived blasphemy,
mutely does she suffer buffets and mockery.
Pygmies circle round her and strain their necks to see
one with far more worth than nit pickers who’re but fleas.

Cast out from the heavens, all is gray in Limbo,
deserves veneration, self-flagellates with blows.
How many, “Our Fathers,” how many, “Hail Marys,”
is proper contrition for a sin venally?

Does self-flagellation draw insufficient blood?
Is self-immolation required for fleas’ love?
Oh, great goddess angel, I weep for you this day
wish I had the power restore to astral plane.

Swear there’s candle burning, I swear there’s light ahead,
swear you are loved dearly, I’ve felt weight of your dread.
The dread of impotence, shackles invisible,
weight that draws the mouth down, makes smiles impossible.

Furthest thing from lovers, but Lord I love you so:
Surprised by intense of my sad angry tear flow.
Vestigial response for one of the fairer sex?
Or simple reaction for friend want to protect?

Little Candle

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Image may contain: fire, night and candles
Little candle all alone in the dead of night
illuminate tiny sphere with your twinkling light.
All around is darkness eyes cannot penetrate
let us spread your circle and break the power of hate.

Anger as soup de jour has become daily broth
knowledge that ‘Murica has become land of lost.
Lost seems ability to open up our eyes,
listen to our brethren, not openly despise.

Circling in the darkness is school of angry sharks
who’re quite intent on drowning us with their dark.
Dark engulfing waters would make eternal beds
save for little candle whose twinkling truth light spreads.

All around are brothers and sisters holding hands
there’s no room for hatred on path to great again.
Hatred’s marauding child we’ve reared through ignorance
need to socialize him with loving light patient.

Rainbow’s seven colors that blazon cross the sky
are what create white light that mortal eyes do spy.
Each and every chroma from Roy down to G biv
is within the power of our candle to give.

Tiny little candle is truly not alone
look out in the darkness and see what eyes behold.
Countless are the circles that from love emanate;
each a sphere embracing with light that drives out hate.

Snowflakes fall from heaven, each cold crystal unique,
they provide the template for our loving mystique.
Each of them is different, yet each of them is grand,
and the love of snowflakes can sweep across this land.

Now is the right moment and where we stand’s the place
to use light of candles fear and hatred replace.
Anger is a cancer inside us easily grows
we can all be healthy if we just let hate go.

Little candle all alone in the dead of night
illuminate tiny sphere with your twinkling light.
All around is darkness eyes cannot penetrate
let us spread your circle and break the power of hate.

Wound

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Stick the key into me, stick it in real fine
wind me up like clockwork for I’m Bot sublime.
I’ve been being wound-up ‘fore knew how to talk
key you’re sticking in me used to control thoughts.

Locke’s tabula rasa has been scribbled on,
lectured me on free-will while made me a pawn.
I was pleasure seeker, avoider of pain,
sucked alma mater teat with sub font’nel brain.

Everything a wonder, thirsted at the sink;
you showed me true colors, taught me what to think.
The sins of the fathers go unrecognized
but though we can’t see them forever malign.

There are just two classes, there’s just us and them;
we are sweet molasses, they’re class full of sin.
Spectacles you gave me color all I see:
Meant to make me upright but you blinded me.

Blinded me to beauty, blinded me to truth,
can’t escape the scribblings soul etched in my youth.
I’m not castigating, I’m not throwing stones,
each of us is wound-up with keys we don’t know.

Underlying fabric of our daily lives
binds us all together, can’t escape own lies.
If there was an Adam and Eve from his rib
in Garden of Eden enabled lies from crib.

Destiny awaits us, give in to your fate,
all the future’s written, karmic wheel of hate.
No coincidences, get what we deserve:
Never was a notion that was more absurd.

Selective perspective, bias cognition,
is key that controls us, our unseen prison.
Paradigm prescription, fragile house of cards,
each of us is slave to, refutes we discard.

Wind-up toys with buttons that are easily pressed,
cloud glasses and contacts, from truth bar access.
Each of us is programmed, each of us controlled,
question of the hour are we all lost souls?

Are we doomed to blindness, to be insensate?
Ever live with blinders, and forever hate?
Ascension is calling, we can rise above,
deny puppet-master and our blinders slough.

Stuck the key into me, did it out of love,
wound me up like clockwork, now must rise above.
Fear I may be bleeding when pull out that key
though I shrink from blood loss long to set soul free.

Yipping

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Image may contain: dogTiny yipping lap dog at my feet
Tiny yipping lap dog thinks he’s neat
Loves to bark and harass passersby
certain he’s the apple of God’s eye

Tiny yipping lap dog thinks he’s grown
but truth’s yipping lap dog’s more a bone
Little yippy-yapper bone for head
listen to the yapping of brain dead

Sophomore is Latin for wise fool
also used for students; second tool
With a little knowledge, Bologna;
puffed up little yapper who’s still cub

Cub that longs to school me cuz he knows
wisdom of the ages, Nuncio
Yippy-yappy’s power to discern
is not to be questioned or suborned

Oh, you little yippy yapping pup
fear at any moment I’ll erupt
Erupt not in anger but laughter
rather have a disease if you’re cure

So many assumptions that you made
is it any wonder you’re enraged
Enraged that all people cannot see
that you are the best thing since sliced bread

Tiny yipping lap dog at my feet
Tiny yipping lap dog thinks he’s neat
Loves to bark and harass passersby
certain he’s the apple of God’s eye

Universal Health Care and Natural Consequences

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       Humans are pleasure seeking animals.

     We have a strong biological desire to do that that makes us feel good. Of course, often what makes us feel good is contrary to what is good for us. This is why pain is a gift. I do not like pain. To state the obvious, pain hurts. But pain is a mechanism that encourages us to not do things that are harming us. It is nature’s red flag, a declaration that shouts, “Stop! Do not proceed!”

     I believe in pain’s ability to teach and find its natural consequences to be so effective that I once allowed my then toddler son to endanger himself. Now, before you call the appropriate government agency in charge of politically-correct child-rearing be assured that I did not understand the scope of the lesson that I was watching unfold before me.

     My wife, sister, brother-in-law and my then two-year-old son and I were visiting a children’s zoo in Atlanta. (This is a zoo for children featuring young animals, not a cut rate babysitting arrangement.) My son kept putting his fingers through the wire mesh fence separating we human animals from the nonhuman ones. After telling him to stop and plucking his hand from its position of vulnerability a couple of times I stopped doing so. Kevin put his hand through the mesh where the geese were, and my sister and her husband got big eyed when I did nothing to change this.

     My brother-in-law said, “You know, those geese might bite his hand: Aren’t you going to stop him?”

     “No,” says I. “I’ve already stopped him enough times, and if the goose bites him then maybe he’ll learn to listen to me.”

     “Uh, you know the goose could bite his finger off; right!?”

     “Nope,” I say as I grab the boy’s hand away, “I didn’t know he could lose a finger, I just thought he might get a pinch.”

     Though I believe strongly in the power of Natural Consequence to teach vital life-lessons, permanent disfigurement and a life of three fingered handicap was too dear a payment for a two-year-old to bear. I wanted my son to learn, not to suffer a lifetime of disability. (Pity my poor children who were reared by a man such as I. It is amazing they survived, let alone thrived.)

     This reminiscence leads me to our current healthcare situation. Let me state for the record that I am absolutely in favor of universal healthcare. Our family greatly appreciated the change in health insurance that allowed us to keep our two sons on my wife’s policy until they reached twenty-six-years-of-age regardless of whether they were full time students or not. This is a wonderful change from the bad old days where young adults had to sink or swim in regards to health insurance coverage and this extended coverage makes great sense on all levels and in all regards.

      Of course, some aspects of universal healthcare do not make as much sense.

     One of the things that bothers me is when folks call healthcare a “right.” If it is a right does that make healthcare practitioners our servants? They worked hard to get where they are and frequently they are helping people who do not care enough about themselves to act in ways that lead to greater health until the natural consequence of pain and its dreadful life lesson comes screaming at them at the top of its lungs. If then.

     Another unmentioned aspect of Universal Healthcare problem is that the demand for  healthcare is nearly infinite while the supply is very limited. There goes that darn supply and demand/market value clap-trap rearing its ugly head again.

     We all know that proper care of self can lead to a much higher quality of life and reduced dependence on medicine; all of which helps keep costs down for everyone, but does our healthcare system really promote good choices by using both a carrot and a stick?

     If natural consequences are precluded (i.e. fiscal pain) then a tremendous learning tool is going unused. People who take better care of themselves should be financially rewarded for doing so. People who engage in horrendous healthcare habits should have to pay more for health-care, yet this is anathema in a world of political correctness; a world that ignores reality lest it offend.

     I was pleased as punch when more folks got healthcare under Obamacare than had been covered in the past, but rising health-care costs are related to our lack of self-care. It is unfortunate how few people take the reins for self-care into our own hands and make life-style choices that advance health. As insurance coverage rises we have seen a rise in the already absurd usage of using emergency rooms as our primary healthcare provider; a paradigm that is inefficient and expensive. If we the people cared enough to look after we ourselves then our medical partners could help us create a healthier population.

     We could see a drop in healthcare costs if we’d all try to take better care of ourselves in our everyday lives; we could start making better choices that would put us on a road to better health. We could, we should, but will we?

     Choosing not to take proper care of self is a smack in the face to Natural Consequences and believe me when I say that is one lady who will only take so much nonsense before she turns around and cold cocks us.

M.T.F.

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M.T.F. initials of gal who framed me,
pilfered from the store-till quite outrageously.
Was not smart but cunning evil little troll
who thought Blame the New Guy would be game quite droll.

Stranger in a strange land, new guy on the job,
shoulder to the grindstone, show boss I’m no squab.
Walk the straight and narrow, do as I am told,
little did I realize my rep M.F. stole.

A trout rather fishy, a fish that was foul,
is an apt description of thief on the prowl.
She would benignly smile as stabbed in the back,
she had short man’s syndrome, and that is a fact.

Petulant when challenged, stupid all the time,
guess you get the picture was no friend of mine;
don’t think she attacked me due to animus,
was convenient target for the bitch to bust.

There was just one problem with her evil plan,
I’d no need to rob store as I’m well heeled man.
M.T.F. biweekly would snag some Jacksons
she’d run low on money ‘fore two weeks were done.

Not a word was spoken to me of the theft
till one day I’m called in to hear of the mess.
Old man Bill, store owner, with his bonhomie,
explained the thefts’ details punctiliously.

“Got a little problem with which you’re involved;
hope that we can solve it without Johnny Law.
‘Fraid that since you started, cadence of clockwork,
money has been missing, fact made you besmirched.

“Now hold on a minute, don’t get all upset,
through investigation no longer suspect.
Rearranged your schedule just so we could see
if cash’d still go missing or end robbery.”

Old Bill he did detail all pertinent facts,
told me he’d been irate that theft was his thanks.
His thanks for hiring me right off the street
but then came to question clues left at his feet.

“Money still went missing though you were not here;
damning fact for M.F. put you in the clear.
Your reputations sound, and you do good work.
Certain now that M.F. is our thieving jerk.”

Stunned rather than angry, least initially,
learned valu’ble lesson when accused falsely.
Due Process is the due due to everyone,
guilt by accusation knee-jerk need to shun.

Believing accusers without fact-finding
is a perfect tool for truth undermining.
Not all situations are as they appear
all that I’m suggesting judge once facts are clear.

Cat’s Away

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Image may contain: one or more people and people sittingThe cat’s away and I’m a mouse, but don’t think I’ll have fun
it is my job to mind the store and make sure it’s well run.
I do not like to be in charge, don’t like to be alone,
but I will strive to carry on and run place as my own.

Just a man-child is what I am, I hate to be in charge;
responsible without control for me’s not living large.
Time and again at other jobs said no supervising
I’m too rigid or way too lax, there is no in between.

We have small staff, less than dozen, that’s just double fistful-
but in first week of October staff will be skeletal.
Just me and Jack, one day it’s Jill, will be pair in the store
and on Tuesday from ten till five I find I’m all alone.

I have deep roots for my distaste of playing Han Solo,
stems from the time that Star Wars shot bounty hunter Greedo.
Yes, it was back in seventies the last time I was robbed,
thief had a gun in Gayle Anne’s face and poor girl after sobbed.

It seems prudent to never be solo in retail space
surrounded by a hundred grand of toys within glass case.
Still, that’s my fate first week of month that starts with letter “O,”
I really hope it’s not my fate to be shot like Greedo.

Rise to the task I surely will because that is my fate,
but tell me this why at my age I’m doing things I hate!?
I got the means, I got the might to declare this, “No go!”
but what I lack it’s plain to see  is huevos to say no.

The cat’s away and I’m a mouse, but don’t think I’ll have fun
it is my job to mind the store and make sure it’s well run.
I do not like to be in charge, don’t like to be alone,
but I will strive to carry on and run place as my own.

Hawking

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Once upon a time, in an eon that has passed,
seekers were companions who thought truth we could catch.
Little band of children convinced there was road-map
to body of knowledge, enlightenment on tap.

Naivety of youth thought truth was black and white,
knew a grail most holy could fill us with insight.
We could not comprehend that while there’s thing called truth
that it is pure daydream that we’ll know absolute.

Labyrinth of seekers befuddled by life’s maze
lurk now in cul de sacs and at walls scream our rage.
Angered that the goalpost, the gate to our touchdowns,
was just sad illusion advanced by charlatans.

Charlatans and hawkers, those with gewgaws to sell,
is what we’ve all become as let truth go to hell.
No longer do we seek road to understanding,
rather we’ve got axes that we love sharpening.

We’ve our feline cat-claws with which we itch to strike
what we do not fancy we attack out of spite.
At a moment’s notice we’re hissing, spitting cats
intent on destroying, we’re anti diplomats.

Rather when we’ve idea or person we believe
we declare it perfect; good Lord, we’re self-deceived!
Deceived into thinking that we must litigate;
rather than discover, just sow discord and hate.

Banner that we’re flying, our cause de célèbre,
insist is the one path, the truth to set us free.
No need to check sources, no need to check our facts,
aligns with our beliefs so we’ll just run with that.

Blinders are for horses and we are the tail-end
when brake of disbelief  we partisans suspend.
When prejudice aligns with product that we hawk
really don’t give a damn if probity is lost.

Hawking is defined as, “Advertise by shouting,”
‘nother definition is throat clearing spitting.
Abandoned search for truth, left our minds in the maze
seems now our only goal is hawking our outrage.

Once upon a time, in an eon that has passed,
seekers were companions who thought truth we could catch.
Little band of children convinced there was road-map
to body of knowledge, enlightenment on tap.

Guilty!

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Image may contain: 2 people, people smiling, stripes and closeupGuilty, guilty, guilty! Don’t need no stinking trial!
We’ve seen his kind before, full of deceit and guile.
Orthodoxy lacking, look at the clothes he wears!
Hearken to accusers then give him cross to bear.

Bear cross to Golgotha then nail that SOB.
Rid the streets of vermin, of evil let’s be free.
Goal of law and order is people to protect;
this man’s jurisprudence is noose around his neck.

Listen to the victims who’ve suffered in the past
it would be heartbreaking if this man we don’t gas.
Firing squad’s an idea, or we could just throw stones;
one thing know for certain he’ll scream from broken bones.

Single masked accuser’s enough for likes of him;
with God as supreme judge let’s rend him limb to limb.
Pitiful denials he offers in response
in no way convincing; let’s rid world of this louse.

Crime that he’s accused of is both wicked and vile
there’s no way accuser would use deceit or guile.
We all know for certain can’t put trust in his kind
mockery of justice to deny truth divined.

There’s no doubt Due Process can be a useful tool;
just weighing character would convince all but fools.
Convince that he’s guilty, now know as she said so,
heartless to subject her to replay past sorrow.

Time to make a clean sweep, it’s time to show the world,
we believe accusers when they are helpless girls.
Never has a woman had evil ax to grind,
we all know that females are always fairer kind.

If there’s any justice we’ll put quick end to this,
him to face accuser would be callous knife twist.
Save taxpayer money and just condemn the man;
longing for a lynching, long to have blood stained hands.

Best sauce for this gander is just to cook his goose.
With her eyes so tearful it’s easy to deduce
she’s the injured party and he’s the guilty cad.
With blind rush to judgement’s how justice will be had.

Tribalism worship, defend the side that’s right;
death to hesitation, evidential insight.
Barbarism’s calling won’t you take up its song?
Condemning sans trial’s path all should know is wrong.

Guilty, guilty, guilty! Don’t need no stinking trial!
We’ve seen his kind before, full of deceit and guile.
Orthodoxy lacking, look at the clothes he wears!
Hearken to accusers then give him cross to bear.

Pan

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Image may contain: food
Double-duo silver-hairs bow their heads in prayer
eight hands interlocking o’er restaurant silverware.
“In Jesus’ name,” they intone ‘fore talk turns to golf;
paunches declare abundance that their lives have brought.

Need public acclimation of their deity;
hand holding hallelujahs of temerity.
Pharisees at dinner disparage working class,
comfortable in righteousness, soft booth salves their ass.

In celebration of His Canaan miracle
abundant flows wine freely as down throats gargle.
Decibels of silver locked rise up in the air
soon they are demanding presence of their server.

After lengthy debate and consideration
double-duos have chosen pizza with chicken.
Unsanctified the sangre that does freely flow,
silver-hairs’ loud laughter invades from their table.

Pizza on a pedestal is placed in their midst
words of, “Finally!” and “Praise!” soundly the air blitz.
Server serves mechanically phrase, “Bon appétit!”
(Phrase I find tad odd from Italian restaurant seat.)

Double couples celebration ends abruptly
totally disbelieving as their eyes do see.
“It’s got some kinda green sauce! Where’s tomato paste?”
Soon they’re waving hands in air; need server post haste.

“What’s up with this strange pizza? Why is it green not red?
You got demented cook who’s not right in the head?”
Server’s jaw did fall as he scanned the pizza pie,
cocked his head to the side and emitted loud sigh.

“Menu has two pizzas, come not tomato based;
this pesto chicken pizza is not to your taste?”
Double-duo silver-hairs gave him look of shock,
left speechless a moment as processed poppycock.

“You mean to tell me people eat pizza that’s green?
That’s totally disgusting! I mean, it’s obscene!
Need to get this demon spawn right quick outta here!
Bring us something edible, not this goose poop smear!”

Server did as he was told though his shoulders slumped.
Felt sorry for server taking it in the rump.
All the way through dinner silver-hairs hemmed and hawed;
certain in their minds debacle was server caused.

Could not help but wonder as tableau developed
what would Jesus do given green pizza for sup?
Would He berate the server, in him lay the fault?
Or take culpability, eat what He had wrought?

Water into wine was Jesus’ first magic trick;
Jesus fed five-thousand with five loaves and two fish.
America by some is called a Christian Land,
I know not what that means nor for what Christians stand.

Double-duo silver-hairs bow their heads in prayer
eight hands interlocking o’er restaurant silverware.
“In Jesus’ name,” they intone ‘fore talk turns to golf;
paunches declare abundance that their lives have brought.