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Politics for Poets

Crazy

Color

Sometimes the reds are more than just red. When the sun hits them the orange leaves glow like neon lamps. Yes, it really is that beautiful.

But the color becomes ordinary. People don't look at it, seek it. Chase the folliage and it might elude you. You see the colors as you drive by but when you stop the camera isn't finding any good pictures. It's a buzz chase, of sorts.

If you don't think about it, let your day progress, sometime during the day you'll go catch a glimpse. Suddenly the color ambushes you!

Oct 30, 2013 (10-30-2013)

well . . .

I think I've blogged enough today.

"I'm all blogged out."

Content quickly gets stale, wicked, so it is always updated. Some content is hit with updates more often. Also: some of the content here is of a much higher quality than other content here. So if you don't like something: hey dude, whatever.

~ OK Now.

They say we are 'silent'. What should we do? We have noticed the devolution. Do we put ourselves at risk by talking down the cause of the psychopaths? Would anything we do be heroic? These forces, they've been set in place, and those who do the marching . . . are often not bad guys.

Praise God!

It gets left out
and no one takes it.      

The following poem is fresh, whipped up, off the cuff.

  

  If you had met with me
    we could have talked straight
 about what we could do but instead
   you wanted me to agree
 to just agree for you
     not correct.

   Just back from the funeral
    I found your email with anticipation.
  I even did about 20 hours of work 
     thinking we will be able to use it.

 But you didn't get back to me
   for over two weeks.
  Meanwhile I found out
    who it was you needed me to help.
 I emailed him.
     I heard him yelp.

  If you had ever even met with me
   I would have told you
   as a friend
    what we can do
  without guarantees,
   just with mutual trust.

   But now I see that trust
      to some is far fetched
    like schemes that reduce people
 to objects, nodes on a chart,
     a blob on a Ven diagram.

  The reds and oranges are strongest
       when the thought of them is null.
  Then you see the flaming summac
       and it knocks you over.
       Oh . . . woe . . . wow

  If you had just talked to me
     for real 
  and listened
    we could make it happen.
 The budget and schedule 
     need to be real.

   If you don't have the cash
  you can't make the robots dance.
   

  Praise God!
 


















Wake up!