That Day Comes

That day comes when love wins over hate, light begins to shine in darkness,

When goodness triumphs ore the bad, and gloom and sadness disappear

From the heart of humanity, and reason drives out all wrecking insanity,

And this day we work toward that so that day will, indeed, come to succeed,

And we cannot grow weary, frightened, or dismayed but advance with cheer

And determination in reclamation of our collective salvation . . . this day,

Then that day will surely come when love wins over hate, light ore darkness,

When the final fight is won, and faith, peace and goodness reign supreme

On Trying to ‘Trump’ Reality

It was an undeniably bitter defeat for someone who has said so many times that he does not like “losers” and, accordingly, has disparaged his opponents by calling them “losers,” along with many other pejorative names and remarks, but . . . he lost. Period. Donald Trump truthfully and legally lost his bid for reelection. He has yet to accept this fact, which is beyond realistic dispute.

When at the height of the Vietnam War the Republican candidate, Barry Goldwater, lost his bid for the White House to Lyndon Johnson, who scored a landslide victory, he accepted the outcome, congratulated his opponent, and promised his continued prayers for and service to this country. Goldwater truly understood constitutional, representative democracy and he respected it.

The same can be said for the Democrat candidates, Hubert Humphry and George McGovern, who both lost to Nixon. And mentioning Richard Nixon, he voluntarily resigned from office for the good and, specifically, the unity of the country. Humphry, McGovern, and even Nixon truly understood constitutional, representative democracy and they respected it.

The Ex-Presidents Club

And, yes, the same can be said for Republican Gerald Ford and Democrat James E. Carter, who lost the presidential race to Ronald Reagan. Even in the controversial 2000 election, Vice-President and Democrat nominee, Al Gore, eventually conceded the race to George W. Bush, assuring him of his prayers and support, and wishing him well. He understood constitutional, representative democracy and he respected it.

So, too, the American people, or at least most, but not Donald Trump, and so now he constitutes the one greatest threat to our system of governance. Trump currently poses the greatest threat to democracy, yet in this his true colors are showing. There is no evidence of voter fraud or, more generally speaking, a corrupted election, and this is something even conservative, Republican-appointed judges have said from the bench.

The U. S. Supreme Court is currently comprised of six conservative justices, three of whom were appointed by Trump himself, and three liberal justices, yet even these justices have unanimously knocked down two attempts at overturning the legal results of Election 2020. Yes, even Trump’s own appointees have ruled against allegations of voter fraud and election corruption!

The fact of the matter is, the 2020 election was free, fair, legal and level. Period. It is far past time for Donald Trump to accept this, but he will not, and he will not back down. After four years of witnessing just how he operates — what makes him tick, how he acts and reacts, his motivations and (seeming) fears — no one should expect him to act reasonably and out of any genuine concern for the country.

This being the case, it’s up to the rest of us to put the election behind us, at least as much as possible, and congratulate Joseph Biden and Kamala Harris, promising them our prayers and support, while also (hopefully!) putting these last horrific four years behind us. This is imperative, because quite honestly, our country is undergoing an extreme (but ultimately good?) transformation.

It is this current, ongoing, sociopolitical-cultural transformation that has birthed nearly tangible fear in the hearts and minds of so many millions of Americans . . . mostly conservative, traditionalist, Caucasians, who pine for the “good ole days” when the United States was unquestionably ruled by white males (with, perhaps, a few women, too.) They long for bygone days of white, “Christian,” supremacy, to tell the truth.

The country is going through transformation anyway, despite their wicked longings and unreasonable fears, so that America is changing right before our very eyes. We are really and truly growing and maturing into a multi-ethnic, multi-cultural, socio-politically and religiously varied society. We will no longer be the America of “I Like Ike,” and “I Love Lucy,” mostly white, Anglo-Saxon Protestants (WASPs).

The dawning of an altogether new era actually began in earnest in 2008, with the election of Barak Obama. In 2016, after eight years, came the militant reaction to this transformation. It was almost instinctive, certainly expected, and quite visceral. It was, along with the tens of millions who voted for Trump this year, the gasping breath of a dying corpse of white, Protestant “Christian” (and white, conservative Catholic) privilege.

So, yes, congratulations to Biden and Harris. May as many of us, who are ready and willing to be reasonable, respectful and peaceful, commit ourselves to prayer for and support of our country, government at every level, and above all our fellow citizens. We cannot wait for those who simply refuse to even acknowledge reality as reality. We must lock arm, join hands, and simply march forward together . . . as one.

There is a Storm Rising

There is a storm rising in the deep cauldron of the sea of humanity,
An untamed insanity, wailing louder and louder, like the wild child
Emerging from the jungle of irrationality to destroy all of banality,
To cannibalize civilization in the realization that it is but a carcass
Only to be eaten now in a free frenzied feast of half-starved beasts;
Woe be to the man of upper-clan, who but fans the flames of blame!
The storm rise is upon us, the size of which we cannot measure . . .
But there will be no pleasure, only pieces of what we now treasure

The Project

Millions pray, millions cry, many even die
All for wars to cease and for peace to reign,
And the truth is most people do get along
Just as fine as well-aged wine and would
Gladly dine with one another in harmony;
So who is it that incites violence and war?
Who first tore the delicate fabric of peace?
We need a new lease on life in this world,
And this is the daunting project haunting
And taunting those of us who love to love
And live in serenity with all of humanity;
Ah! But this is quite a feat even as we hear
The drumbeat of the battles to be fought
By those who have been sold and bought
And brought into the service of those who
Will never see the field soaked with blood;
Most of those who have seen the horror
Of war want war no more for they know
How high the price to pay
And will not roll the dice!
Oh, but somebody does . . . who are they?
And how do they hold at bay peace
In our day; how do they block the way?
Ah! How do we go about this, our Project?

Your Cozy Little Eggshell

Not that I’m angry but you never seem to see
What is as obvious to me as a great big tree!
Temperatures are rising causing tidal waves
As oceans misbehave while you calmly claim
That it’s all the same without a bit of shame;
And you don’t seem to hear the cries of fear
From around the earth in all your jolly mirth,
And I ask you why ‘n try to talk but you balk;
Meanwhile masses starve and ruffians carve
Their weapons of terror ‘n it’s a bloody error
To be so blind and to bind your whole mind
Against all the world around you,
But you’re bound and determined
To be whatever it is you will to be
And see only what you want to see!
No, I’m not angry, only bound to be astounded
How you can live in such a cozy, little eggshell!
And I know hell will crack that shell one day . . .
Hell will crack your shell

No Romero, Not Here! Not Here!

Dearest Romero, you cannot come here out of fear;
You see, we don’t know you and only a few want to;
You have made your pilgrimage at such a young age,
But all for not for we have bought this wall
As a clarion call that we’re surely not for all,
Even the weak and small like you, O Romero!
Say, can you see the torch held high up into the sky?
Fire once burned there to light the night sky
As a bright beacon of hope for those who cry;
But now we must say ‘good bye’ and just let you die,
For we have no place for your face ‘n no more grace;
O Romero, what are you thinking as you’re blinking?
Skies here are not blue for you,
And your skin is the wrong hue!
From sea to sea shall we be ever so discriminatory?
Dearest Romero, you cannot come here out of fear!
Not here, lad, not here . . . for we are filled with fear!


Note: Romero is both a Spanish and an Italian surname meaning: A person on a religious journey or pilgrimage . . . (also) an herb of rosemary symbolizing remembrance and fidelity.

Idiocracy

Some say that democracy is the best form of government,
And perhaps this form of governance should be the norm;
However, it can breed a storm from dorms to living rooms,
From kitchens to legislative halls that fall to self-interest;
And what happens, then, when government is truly an icon
Of the people governed, and becomes of cupboard of idiots?
When entertainers are pundits and tweets become so sweet
That they make daily news and kindle views from officials?
When pictures that should be trashed are brashly shown
In public buildings as art by the self-designated oh-so smart?
When unimportant issues call for tissue to wipe crying eyes?
When the rest of the world calls for the best, but the best
Are given a vest in lieu of the grave and are called to invest
In the circus as government becomes more like giant Argus?
What happens, I ask, when democracy becomes an idiocracy?
I say the Revolution is long over, and God Save the Queen!

Or . . .

kakistocracy

Hard Battle Won: Song of Victory

Rain washes away,
Cleanses the soul on this day,
Brings peace in its way

The battle was hard,
Making sad songs for the bard,
Our wounds we regard

Now is time for rest,
Finally peace in our nest,
Now for us the best

Another day, another battle in play,
But for now long songs of victory!



Note: Though this poem is personal and familial, it is also dedicated to the recent victory in the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL) controversy. As Tanya Cliff just reported, “The Army Corps of Engineers has denied a permit for the current routing of the DAPL to cross Lake Oahe.  This is a major victory for Native American tribes…” Praise almighty God for this long-awaited good news!