She was
a creature
of her own
mythology.
Exquisitely
alive in
her own
narrative.
She wore
an unseen
drama amidst
mundane moments.
Making art
with the
drawing
of breath.
Her life
her canvass
people
her muse.
Each
vying for a bigger role
in the unfolding
life.
Each
more alive
while living
in the unseen story.
Artist and muse
both seeking immortality
in the mythology
of their temporal lives.
Restlessness
moves within me
with kinetic force.
Possessed
of its own
intentions.
Desirous
of change.
Craving
of action.
Impervious
to pleas
of satisfaction.
Moving me
in ways
I cannot
comprehend.
Propelling me
towards a life
I cannot yet
dream.
My will is free
but cannot
be still.
Restlessness
moves me.
To where
I do not
know.
When darkness
comes
the light
must gather.
This
is my
mantra.
As a
darkness
familiar
to every
age
Bestrides
the world
and claims
victory over
the land
of the
free.
Home
of the
brave.
Driven
mad
by fear.
When darkness
comes
the light
must gather.
This
is my
prayer.
As a
familiar
darkness
wearing
new faces.
Conquers
the world
and claims
victory
one final
time.
Home
of the
shinning
city upon
the hill.
Set
aflame
by hate.
When darkness
comes
the light
must gather.
Reason
will not
teach you
virtue.
Nor
make
you wise.
Logic
is but
a tool
of your
intentions.
Concerned
only with
the consistency
of your
truths
and lies.
Agnostic
as to
the
value
of each.
Reason
will make
you certain
but not
right.
Cunning
but not
wise.
Justified
but not
just.
Open
heartedness
must inform
intentions
and serve
as reason’s
guide.
Cultivate
love and
kindness
to be
just
virtuous
and wise.
Only then
may reason
serve truth
instead
of lies.
Open
heartedness
points
to the
ultimate
goal.
We are
one
it sings
from the
bottom
of our
soul.
Be
reasonable
but let
an open
heart be
your guide.
In a reasonable world Hillary and Trump would never have occupied the same stage. In a reasonable world, someone as grossly unqualified as Donald J. Trump would never have won a major party’s nomination to be President. But we don’t live in a reasonable world. We live in a world on the brink of self-destruction, either by climate change or nuclear war. We live in a world committing suicide, and we are all on a slow moving train driving us off a cliff. Trump cannot be understood with conventional wisdom or the analytical mind. He is our collective id, he is a death impulse encouraging us to jump off the train and dance madly over the cliff.
The status quo is killing us, but Trump gives us the prospect of a quick death. That is the only way I know how to describe the state of this race.
August 17, 2017
Eyes of the Oppressor
When I think about the Confederate monuments I try not to do so as a white man. I try to use my god given imagination to view them from the perspective of a person of color, who may be only a few generations removed from slavery and a generation removed from segregation. I try to think what it would be like, looking out of those eyes, to see flags and monuments on government property to an insurrection that sought to keep me and my ancestors in bondage….and it puts a cold chill in my stomach and fear in my heart. I can’t help but feel when looking out of those eyes, that a government that celebrates those symbols doesn’t represent me or people like me. Treating others as you would have them treat you means trying to look out of the other person’s eyes to see what they see and what they need and treating them accordingly. The eyes of the oppressor do not see the suffering of the oppressed.