The Attorney General for the People Person of the US Receives Scrutiny Once again I must turn to Bill-Barr To examine behavior bizarre; This is not the first time That things seem to skirt crime And his antics sink less than subpar.
In the world of the lovingly kind I’ve found myself caught in a bind: Consumed by my hate It made my gut ache ’Twas a matter far over my mind.
I’m not about to write of food Or remembrance of repasts My blog is clogging up right now And I need your help real fast. I used to have a sub-menu That offered all my oeuvre But a WP Engineer warned Its growth was a SNAFUer.
Catastrophic delays Of equipment for patients and carers Reveal huge flaws in America’s design. One thing I do Not hear discussed Applies to the “have nots’” Vying for their tiny share of Income from the supposed stimulus: Registering their presence without Use of computers and Internet? Shadowy reminders of those we forget.
Growing up near a beach, I led a child-dylic life of sun/sand/surf The ocean was my backyard pool; the sand my playground Near the water’s edge, the consistency of that granular play-doh Encouraged childhood architectural whimsy.
I’ve often said that I’m one happy blogger: I love to write and to research new topics; I’m grateful for your feedback; and—this was one aspect of blogging that I hadn’t anticipated but is becoming one of the most valuable—I feel personally enriched by meeting so many extraordinary, talented people from all over the world. The most recent is Judy Dykstra-Brown, a poet, writer, artist, and lecturer who blogs at Life Lessons. She’s a prolific blogger, posting something—sometimes several things—every day. That energy alone boggles my once-or-at-most-twice-weekly blogger mind!
Candidates flailing arms in the air, bent on talking, one over another Hapless moderators—too many, too weak to control the mayhem Another Democratic debate, Offering less light than heat Seemingly not laser-focused on the context: our closeness to the abyss. ... BUT… When an aroused people stands together Elevating our shared goal beyond our individual predilections,
Our Goldfinches A portent of spring, Still garbed in winter’s drab gray They crowd the feeder— Six at a time, reserving each perch.
...That Doesn't Love A Wall.--Robert Frost. The President's beloved wall Designed to keep our borders "pure" Of those who seek refuge from harm Or starvation Could not withstand a high wind
The WordPress Happiness Engineers are cheery; They respond as best they can. But a SNAFU is making me weary; What you're reading is not what I'd planned...
In April I cited Barr’s antics The AG was quietly frantic The Mueller Report Was a strong retort To the “Trump did no wrong” semantics. But Bill-Barr knew why he’d been hired And sensing the public was tired: “There’s nothing,” said he— “No conspiracy” So the Truth into muck became mired.
When Colin Kaepernick, the former NFL football quarterback, took a knee (knelt) during The Star-Spangled Banner at the start of the games, he created quite the uproar. I have written that I felt his using his visibility to call attention to the injustices against African-Americans and other minorities was in the best tradition of nonviolent protest. He paid a heavy price for his actions: though he reached a settlement with the National Football League and is now a free agent, to date no team has been willing to sign him. Anna Celenza, Professor of Music at Georgetown University, discusses Kaepernick’s protest in her introduction to a One Day University lecture titled: “Four Musical Masterpieces That Changed America.” I found her talk, which I watched on video, so enlightening that I’d like to provide you with some highlights. I’ve also added a bit of research from other sources.
[Note: As this is Labor Day Weekend, my brain is taking a holiday from blogging, and I am reaching back to my personal archives for a poem I wrote nearly two decades ago.] I’m trying to fathom this wondrous new world Of black holes revealed and of wormholes uncurled, Of hyperspace, cyberspace, space here and there, Of DNA fingerprints gleaned from a hair....
An Exploration in Rhyme...
NOTE: Gazing at a lovely picture of a friend’s daughter with her two kids--a newborn and a toddler--I found myself advising her, in full cliche: “Enjoy every minute of this time; it goes so fast!” That made me wistful about my own daughters’ younger years. Even though I realized then the flight of time, it still slipped past me far too quickly. So I dug out a poem I wrote decades ago, which was published in a local anthology. Here ’tis: