Just the One ThingI know it seems impossible, and that is how they want it to seem. I know it seems hopeless, and who has spoons to spare for hopeless things, so I understand if you hoard your minutes and guard your caring, clutch them like cards against your careful chest. I see your fear. I see your guilt. I see your fear and guilt and raise you love. I know it seems impossible, the powers that be are too entrenched— that belief is so entrenched we overlook its power. It drones in our heads. It breaks the earth apart. It keeps us busy with a thousand nothings when all that’s needed is just the one thing— to be a drop in the tidal transformation for which our child hearts are screaming. When enough of us wake from our white noise slumber into bodies that love more than they fear, to ears that hold the screaming of children, the ones inside us and the ones who crouch bleeding and hungry against the ground that yields to our spades and deals us daffodils, then we will band together like children, before they learn to hate. We will dream the impossible like children, before they learn despair. We will shout and sing in our outside voices. We will color past every picture in shades so bold the lines disappear. We will break the rules of rigged games and make the world new. But first, I must be a drop, and you must be a drop. Every bead of water pulls beads of water. This is how a wave is built. This is how we do the impossible.
I love that you used a music analogy here, because I think we tend to think of older or newer music and older or younger generations as being so different from us, but the underlying themes are still just human, and that refrain repeats for all of us.
Like others have said, I'm really appreciating the music metaphor and the poignancy of the phenomenon of thinking we're so different, then realizing we're much the same. I also liked the rhythm of these lines: "I gave up early/I gave up thoroughly"
I missed your last post! That prompt on voyeurism, interaction - I will need to come back to that, so intriguing. Lisa loved your poem in this post, and the drop of water coming together to make a wave. That felt so hopeful and poignant. Even the little we do, can have such an impact. This should be read from rooftops!
My poem today took an interesting turn, so I followed it.
Yes! Please add this to the required reading list of all elected officials, at every level of government! Your alliterative ability and acumen with acronym is absolutely astonishing :)). This was terrific, truly!
This is so fun, Julie! My favorite line is the last, "thoughtful trailblazers transforming troublesome tenets." I am so hungry for real change right now. Wouldn't it be amazing to have some bona fide trailblazers come in and turn all those troublesome tenets around?
This is brilliant Julie!!! I love the arrangement and your wonderful cadence and flow. It is so wonderful to turn the difficult tenor of our politics into something beautiful and heartfelt. Let's send this to all the members of the circus!
Thank you for sharing something so tender and close to the hurting places in your own heart, A. To me, it feels like there's love and kindness and something like forgiveness in your poem, but there's also the wise and perhaps self-protective recognition that if he hasn't apologized for the harm he's caused, it's unlikely that he's fully healed. I'm glad you're keeping yourself safe. And glad that you're transmuting pain into such beautiful poetry!
Thank you so much, Lisa. What you described is very much where I'm at with all of it. I keep thinking that when I write and share things like this, they're not really relatable, but it's so healing for me to be witnessed and held by each of you here.
Thank you for sharing this tender, honest and powerful poem. I have estranged relationships from a parent and a sibling, and these event days like birthdays can feel strange and disorienting and the pain surfaces from its thin place. Even when an inner core knows the healthier way is to not be in contact, there can be a sadness in that. You articulate so well the yearning just to hear and feel the “I’m sorry”. The apology that should but may never come. I find myself wondering sometimes “what are they feeling?” Your putting this into words feels like a healing step, and has certainly resonated with and spoken to me. 🧡
I hear you A. And I really appreciate the disconnect you mentioned here between being healed but not making amends. It seems off to me too. Yes by all means take care of you! Beautifully written poem, by the way! Thank you for this tender vulnerable sharing. It is very powerful.
Thanks for sharing this intimate conversation-poem here, A. Such a powerful distinction you make between happy and joyful. I relate to this deeply, as I have similar circumstances with siblings. Birthdays are grief markers for me in those relationships. Wishing you and your brother the peace that passeth all understanding.
Thank you, Keith. I don't know that I've ever named this day as a grief marker before, but that definitely feels right. I always dread it in a way I don't really do with any other date.
For me, the grief that has come with sibling estrangement is different, but just as hard as the grief that has come with losses from actual deaths. And it so rarely gets acknowledged in our culture. Holding much space for you around the dread. <3
Thank you for sharing this with us, A. I also worry that when I write down those darker paths it won't be relatable -- but this group never ceases to amaze and hold me! That you are at a place in your own healing that you can poetically almost-wish your sibling a "happy" (as in whole) birthday says so much about you & your work & your heart.
I feel your pain and yet, a sense of acceptance for what is, coming through your words. Thank you for sharing and continue to know that you are seen and valued by all of us here.
Thank you, Karri. The acceptance has been a hard one, but having finally gotten there feels like a big deal. I do feel seen and valued by each of you, and I'm so grateful.
There are so many beautiful lines in your poem, Larry! I love "no bridge strong or long enough / to connect he sides together again," but what really got me right in the heart is the ending. "You are the one who taught me to be afraid." There's so much power there from a poetic perspective, but it also seems to me like there's a lot of personal power. Because knowing that someone TAUGHT you to be afraid suggests the possibility of unlearning it. And it opens so much space for self-compassion when you know you didn't choose that. It has me wanting to sit with the question of where I learned fear. Thank you for making me think and feel, Larry!
All I can say is WOW! Beautiful and powerful poem Larry. I can relate to what you have written here. For me too, there really is, "No bridge strong or long enough. To connect the sides together again." Sometimes it just goes like that. Not everything can be mended. My story went a similiar direction, except at death there was "a whisper", but it took till the end, my father's last words he spoke was of love. My story title would be, You are the one who taught me to believe the shame.
Julie, thank you for your comment. I am glad there was love at the end of your dad’s life. There was for us, too, but over our almost fifty years inhabiting the same dimension, we rarely stayed on the same side of the canyon for very long.
Whew boy, the ending socked me good -- tears with my coffee this morning. So beautiful, Larry. I love the picture of you building a hidden sanctuary, over the years, where "fury turns to joy, / disdain flows into discovery, / contempt sings into love" -- but I wish your little boy self could have had an outside that matched his insides. I appreciated the trajectory of this poem: how you started with visceral trauma, then brought us into your survival strategy & resilient spirit, then circled back to exactly what that trauma did to you, all personal work aside. I appreciate that the ending didn't let abusers off the hook, as it might have subtly seemed to if it ended on a hopeful note.
Thank you Rebekah, for your thoughtful and compassionate response. The little boy turned adult turned elder learned early on how to present in ways that helped others not see the pain. And, all along the way, there was and is a force of Love that transcends any name, knowledge or label I can give it. And so many places like this, where people care and affirm and share. I am so grateful for this cadre of wonders!
Your poetry often touches on tender spots deep inside, Larry...and this one is no exception. I felt it hook into what I carry around the conflicted child-heart and the confusion that comes from being able to hear and sense energies behind words but not grasp the complexities of what's being said. Also the pain of wanting the connection between loved ones to be one of joy rather than fear and anger, of succumbing to silence as a lesser evil than recrimination, of wishing it were all different even as you accept that it is not.
Thank you Keith. This is very well said. I always chuckle and grimace a bit when religious and/or ideological conservatives speak of family values. I wonder, which ones? The ones in our sacred texts are often complicated at best, and often examples of power abused and misused. The reality across the centuries is that so many have been harmed, emotionally, physically, socially, by their families, I wonder which values they are purporting to promote and foster? Gratefully and sadly, I find so many folks along the journey who carry the harm done in families, all in various states of doing the real work of healing. That's been a comfort and a healing place for me.
Thanks for sharing these reflections, Larry. And for being the kind of person who inquires, "out-loud" about conventional wisdom and tradition that may actually be harmful, or at the very least, ill-fitting (certainly not one-size fits all) or outdated. It's a courageous and generous act! The people I admire most are the ones who see and tell their truth, painful and inconvenient as it may seem.
This is such a powerful poem, Larry. It reminds me a bit of my childhood and the way I retreated into daydreams to regulate myself. "You are the one who taught me to be afraid" is so heartbreaking, and in many ways it's true for me as well. I'm sorry that there was no repair in your story.
This could use some work but I read this prompt Wednesday morning after the primaries on Tuesday and this one question was churning in my mind after seeing voters interviewed in exit polls...what were you thinking???
What were you thinking dear voter?
As you touched the screen,
Or filled in the bubble,
To choose him yet again?
Were you thinking of the economy?
A complex and complicated melting pot of policies that wax and wane constantly.
Were you thinking of the border?
And his party’s refusal to vote on policy, so it still may be used as a fear mongering talking point.
Maybe it was his pro-life stance,
Laughable with the knowledge that the only life he cares about is his own.
Or are you simply worshipping at the altar of greed and power?
Regurgitating lies and misconceptions in some misguided hero worship?
And holding on to the promise of a return to a “great” country
Karri, using a saying the students on campus would use: "Truth!" As someone involved in politics fir a liong time in one way or another, I appreciate the honesty, bewilderment and exasperation of your poem.
He really does not care about me, you or anyone but himself. I agree with Larry, TRUTH!!! Thank you for this poem, I am bewildered by all of it all too.
Snapping, clapping and whistling after reading this, Karri. Not just because I am aligned with your views, but because the cadence and word choices and pacing are all so effective. You really stuck the landing! #truthBOMB
I remember specifically posting something like "He doesn't care about you!" before the last election. As Larry said, I feel the honesty, bewilderment, and exasperation here.
Karri, your poem perfectly captures all the puzzling things about the man's cult following. Among the nearly half of voters who support him, there have to be a lot of reasonably reasonable people in there, right? I wish there were a way to make them really feel the points you raise here, particularly the last five lines.
I'm so glad you used some of your spoons to put this important poem, with its many droplets out into the world! It's powerful, poignant, clever and timely but also timeless (sadly). Your mention of Mitch McConnell inspired me to write this poem with him, or fear-mongering politicians who have long-overstayed their positions that I had in mind as my "audience."
Just wait.
It might be good
to hesitate
before you
debate,
obfuscate,
legislate,
subjugate,
annihilate.
Just pause.
Reflect and notice,
if you would,
just how deeply
you may have misunderstood.
See how your fear doubles?
How it’s both cause and effect
of all the troubles
you’ve strained to control and strived to correct?
Ooooh I want to hear you read this one aloud! (Maybe I should read it to Mitch next time I call him?) It's wonderful. The notion of fear being both the cause and effect feels so profound and so spot on.
Rave on, Keith. This is so poignant and powerful. I'm not sure Mitch has the rhythm to pick up the sweet cadence of your poem, but he can still hear, and somewhere there is a heart and soul. I propose to swing by and pick you up and we'll drive down to Kentucky, read it to Mitch, and say hello to Lisa! I say Kentucky, because I sense Mitch would hear a little more clearly there.
Nice work, Keith! At first I enjoyed picturing Mitch having this read to him while making that weird gaping turtle face he has in every photo... but then even more fun than that was to picture him hitting rock-bottom and reading it to himself in the mirror, which of course prompted me to impersonate him and do this. At some point Me-Mitch got too sad saying all this stuff out loud to my-himself and had to go back to a regular voice, but it was a treat while it lasted.
Would it feel good to share it with him? Lisa turned me on to calling my senators after hours so I can soapbox to my heart's content in a voicemail. You could give him the reading he deserves!
"Gaping turtle face" is such an apt way to describe him <chortle>! I hope you were able to come back unscathed from channeling Mitch-in-the-mirror - let us know if you need any sort of poetic epi-pen intervention! The power of suggestion may indeed lead me to take a more direct deliver-to-audience approach at some point ; )
Wonderful rhythm to this....and just imagining you standing outside McConnell's office reading it to him! My husband and I were just having this conversation the other day with the news of him retiring. At the end of the day how does one look back and say "well done selling my soul...."
My sentiments exactly. Thanks for putting words to this, "a steep price to pay for a dubious career." Indeed! Would be wonderful for your poem and Lisa's poem to be read at every congressional, political meeting. And we again are on the same page. I directed mine to politicians too.
Thanks, Julie. I really think that poets should make policy. It would be a far more benevolent world, at least in my fantasy! Looking forward to reading your poem...
This is definitely another poem that I would love to hear as spoken work (and almost feel like I can). I always love your rhythm and rhyming, and I think it serves this poem well.
I especially love the part about fear doubling - which itself has a double meaning, as their fear feeds and is fed by the fear of their followers, and continues to grow.
Thank you, A. I've been having so much fun lately with the rhyming. I guess I go through phases where I'm really feeling it. It makes some inner kid part of self very happy :))
in awe of you guys painting this prompt with such powerfully sad and angry and defiant and confident brush strokes, this one almost stayed in my head. Then my son calls home.
I feel this poem deeply....I have been burying my head in the sand lately and need to get back out there (at least on the keyboard!) and get more involved. Your poem was love and hope and light....and for that I thank you!
Thank you, Karri! I do believe all of our drops are needed in the ocean, AND there are seasons in our life when maybe we need to let ourselves spend some time in the sand, too. My sense is that you're in a hard season. Proceed gently, friend. 💕
This is splendid, Rebekah! You are empathetic, and my sense is that this empathy has a 360 degree scope, and moves through understanding and compassion and leads you back to the place of outrage and a movement towards wholeness and healing and a ceasing of the fury, fire and anniliation. One of the things we can hope for is reaching the leaders who do have heart and compassion, and helping them find their way back to their best natures. I am very grateful for you and your actvism on this and other issues.
Lisa, your poem leaves me breathless and speechless…at least for a little while! This is a truly beautiful poem, and one I would like to read from the rooftops. I will
I'll not be on a roof this afternoon, but will be in a contemplative prayer service and a Diaconate meeting, and will read it there.
We are all beautifully human, but today, like so many days, you are a shining light for me and many other. The words “thank you” feel inadequate, so a deep bow of gratitude to you. 🙏🏻
Thank you so much, Larry! And I'm honored if you ended up sharing it in your meeting (or even considered doing so). I am bowing with gratitude right back at you.
Hey, pop.
I'll make this quick.
i am sorry.
i gave up early.
i gave up thouroghly.
It seemed so easy, that path.
So right.
you were so out of tune.
So not cool.
Then the mirror starts playing it back at me and my firstborn.
and i am sorry all over again.
Wow - "the mirror starts playing it back." So beautifully put. I can definitely relate to this, both as a daughter and as a mother.
I love that you used a music analogy here, because I think we tend to think of older or newer music and older or younger generations as being so different from us, but the underlying themes are still just human, and that refrain repeats for all of us.
Rock on, wild thing.
Like others have said, I'm really appreciating the music metaphor and the poignancy of the phenomenon of thinking we're so different, then realizing we're much the same. I also liked the rhythm of these lines: "I gave up early/I gave up thoroughly"
Powerful, "the mirror starts playing it back at me."
"Then the mirror starts playing it back" -- so good.
This is beauitfully sad and sweet, Chuck. I hear you.
I missed your last post! That prompt on voyeurism, interaction - I will need to come back to that, so intriguing. Lisa loved your poem in this post, and the drop of water coming together to make a wave. That felt so hopeful and poignant. Even the little we do, can have such an impact. This should be read from rooftops!
My poem today took an interesting turn, so I followed it.
.
STOP
Stop all this!
S Scrupulous
T Tainted
O Obstinate
P Partisanship
.
Selfish sardonic scoundrels secretly securing supremacy.
Thoughtless tyrants threatening totalitarianism.
Offensive opportunistic officials orchestrating oppression.
Pretentious pompous politicians pathetically profiteering.
.
Instead, it really is simple…
Have some HEART!
H Harmoniously
E Encouraging
A Accreditable
R Responsible
T Teamwork
.
Humble humanitarians helping humanity.
Egalitarian electees ethically enacting equality.
Accountable appointees approving altruistic actions.
Reputable representatives ratifying real rectification.
Thoughtful trailblazers transforming troublesome tenets.
.
HEART!
This is so creative, Julie! I love how you managed to create something that is both so powerful and so playful!
Yes! Please add this to the required reading list of all elected officials, at every level of government! Your alliterative ability and acumen with acronym is absolutely astonishing :)). This was terrific, truly!
This is so fun, Julie! My favorite line is the last, "thoughtful trailblazers transforming troublesome tenets." I am so hungry for real change right now. Wouldn't it be amazing to have some bona fide trailblazers come in and turn all those troublesome tenets around?
YES!!!
Wonderful word play! I love it!
shalom.
It really is simple. Thank you, Julie.
This is brilliant Julie!!! I love the arrangement and your wonderful cadence and flow. It is so wonderful to turn the difficult tenor of our politics into something beautiful and heartfelt. Let's send this to all the members of the circus!
Today is my abusive estranged sibling's birthday, so this is not a happy poem, but it feels true.
For the first time in years, I almost
want to wish you a happy birthday --
but not happy as in joyful;
happy as in whole
and healed
and no longer causing harm
to anyone without apology or amends.
I'm told you are happy now, truly, and
I almost want to believe it --
because I would like to believe that
maybe all you really needed
to break your habit of cruelty
was to get a break from whatever was
weighing heaviest on you.
But it's hard for me to believe in
that version of you --
because you never showed him to me.
Do you say "I'm sorry" now?
I've long since stopped waiting
for you to say it to me, and yet
when I imagine you,
happy
and whole
and healed
and harmless,
the only way I can picture it
is with you saying those words to me.
Maybe then I'd be able to wish you
joy as well.
Thank you for sharing something so tender and close to the hurting places in your own heart, A. To me, it feels like there's love and kindness and something like forgiveness in your poem, but there's also the wise and perhaps self-protective recognition that if he hasn't apologized for the harm he's caused, it's unlikely that he's fully healed. I'm glad you're keeping yourself safe. And glad that you're transmuting pain into such beautiful poetry!
Thank you so much, Lisa. What you described is very much where I'm at with all of it. I keep thinking that when I write and share things like this, they're not really relatable, but it's so healing for me to be witnessed and held by each of you here.
Dear A., this is more relatable than you mignt initally think. It certainly resonates with me.
Thank you for sharing this tender, honest and powerful poem. I have estranged relationships from a parent and a sibling, and these event days like birthdays can feel strange and disorienting and the pain surfaces from its thin place. Even when an inner core knows the healthier way is to not be in contact, there can be a sadness in that. You articulate so well the yearning just to hear and feel the “I’m sorry”. The apology that should but may never come. I find myself wondering sometimes “what are they feeling?” Your putting this into words feels like a healing step, and has certainly resonated with and spoken to me. 🧡
I think it was good for me to get it out today. I'm so glad that it helped you a bit as well! 🧡
I hear you A. And I really appreciate the disconnect you mentioned here between being healed but not making amends. It seems off to me too. Yes by all means take care of you! Beautifully written poem, by the way! Thank you for this tender vulnerable sharing. It is very powerful.
Thank you so much, Julie. It's powerful for me to have you and the rest of this supportive community to be vulnerable with.
Thanks for sharing this intimate conversation-poem here, A. Such a powerful distinction you make between happy and joyful. I relate to this deeply, as I have similar circumstances with siblings. Birthdays are grief markers for me in those relationships. Wishing you and your brother the peace that passeth all understanding.
Thank you, Keith. I don't know that I've ever named this day as a grief marker before, but that definitely feels right. I always dread it in a way I don't really do with any other date.
For me, the grief that has come with sibling estrangement is different, but just as hard as the grief that has come with losses from actual deaths. And it so rarely gets acknowledged in our culture. Holding much space for you around the dread. <3
Thank you, friend 🧡
Thank you for sharing this with us, A. I also worry that when I write down those darker paths it won't be relatable -- but this group never ceases to amaze and hold me! That you are at a place in your own healing that you can poetically almost-wish your sibling a "happy" (as in whole) birthday says so much about you & your work & your heart.
Thank you, Rebekah. It has certainly taken a while to get here.
I feel your pain and yet, a sense of acceptance for what is, coming through your words. Thank you for sharing and continue to know that you are seen and valued by all of us here.
Thank you, Karri. The acceptance has been a hard one, but having finally gotten there feels like a big deal. I do feel seen and valued by each of you, and I'm so grateful.
It took me a while to settle in to read, write, reflect and create. This is for my father and family, mom, brother and sister, all gone now.
The Hidden Story
Young child on the stair case,
Old enough to hear,
too young to understand.
Between the shouts and bitter words
an anger and rage handed down
through generations of silence
standing in for compassion.
That’s where it began,
the other place,
construct of waking dreams,
a gentler time, a quieter space.
Here,
fury turns to joy,
disdain flows into discovery,
contempt sings into love,
a place of grace, unbounded.
The characters created
and stories shaped
continued through the years,
there when anxiety and fear
captured the room.
I kept this part hidden,
and let the silence grow into a chasm,
no bridge strong or long enough.
To connect the sides together again.
In the fleeting moments of common ground,
I could have told you thdn
how that little boy fled from
a story he never wanted to read.
All these years, hidden away,
not a whisper, even at death.
until now.
The story title reads like this:
You are the one who
taught
me
to
be
afraid.
There are so many beautiful lines in your poem, Larry! I love "no bridge strong or long enough / to connect he sides together again," but what really got me right in the heart is the ending. "You are the one who taught me to be afraid." There's so much power there from a poetic perspective, but it also seems to me like there's a lot of personal power. Because knowing that someone TAUGHT you to be afraid suggests the possibility of unlearning it. And it opens so much space for self-compassion when you know you didn't choose that. It has me wanting to sit with the question of where I learned fear. Thank you for making me think and feel, Larry!
Thank you Lisa for your kind and insightful comment. Your comments always help me to see my own writing more clearly.
All I can say is WOW! Beautiful and powerful poem Larry. I can relate to what you have written here. For me too, there really is, "No bridge strong or long enough. To connect the sides together again." Sometimes it just goes like that. Not everything can be mended. My story went a similiar direction, except at death there was "a whisper", but it took till the end, my father's last words he spoke was of love. My story title would be, You are the one who taught me to believe the shame.
Julie, thank you for your comment. I am glad there was love at the end of your dad’s life. There was for us, too, but over our almost fifty years inhabiting the same dimension, we rarely stayed on the same side of the canyon for very long.
Whew boy, the ending socked me good -- tears with my coffee this morning. So beautiful, Larry. I love the picture of you building a hidden sanctuary, over the years, where "fury turns to joy, / disdain flows into discovery, / contempt sings into love" -- but I wish your little boy self could have had an outside that matched his insides. I appreciated the trajectory of this poem: how you started with visceral trauma, then brought us into your survival strategy & resilient spirit, then circled back to exactly what that trauma did to you, all personal work aside. I appreciate that the ending didn't let abusers off the hook, as it might have subtly seemed to if it ended on a hopeful note.
Thank you Rebekah, for your thoughtful and compassionate response. The little boy turned adult turned elder learned early on how to present in ways that helped others not see the pain. And, all along the way, there was and is a force of Love that transcends any name, knowledge or label I can give it. And so many places like this, where people care and affirm and share. I am so grateful for this cadre of wonders!
Your poetry often touches on tender spots deep inside, Larry...and this one is no exception. I felt it hook into what I carry around the conflicted child-heart and the confusion that comes from being able to hear and sense energies behind words but not grasp the complexities of what's being said. Also the pain of wanting the connection between loved ones to be one of joy rather than fear and anger, of succumbing to silence as a lesser evil than recrimination, of wishing it were all different even as you accept that it is not.
Thank you Keith. This is very well said. I always chuckle and grimace a bit when religious and/or ideological conservatives speak of family values. I wonder, which ones? The ones in our sacred texts are often complicated at best, and often examples of power abused and misused. The reality across the centuries is that so many have been harmed, emotionally, physically, socially, by their families, I wonder which values they are purporting to promote and foster? Gratefully and sadly, I find so many folks along the journey who carry the harm done in families, all in various states of doing the real work of healing. That's been a comfort and a healing place for me.
Thanks for sharing these reflections, Larry. And for being the kind of person who inquires, "out-loud" about conventional wisdom and tradition that may actually be harmful, or at the very least, ill-fitting (certainly not one-size fits all) or outdated. It's a courageous and generous act! The people I admire most are the ones who see and tell their truth, painful and inconvenient as it may seem.
Thank you Keith!
This is such a powerful poem, Larry. It reminds me a bit of my childhood and the way I retreated into daydreams to regulate myself. "You are the one who taught me to be afraid" is so heartbreaking, and in many ways it's true for me as well. I'm sorry that there was no repair in your story.
Thank you A. There were , as Shawn Colvin sings, “A Few Small Repairs, “ along the way, but the cracks in the foundation always broke through.
This could use some work but I read this prompt Wednesday morning after the primaries on Tuesday and this one question was churning in my mind after seeing voters interviewed in exit polls...what were you thinking???
What were you thinking dear voter?
As you touched the screen,
Or filled in the bubble,
To choose him yet again?
Were you thinking of the economy?
A complex and complicated melting pot of policies that wax and wane constantly.
Were you thinking of the border?
And his party’s refusal to vote on policy, so it still may be used as a fear mongering talking point.
Maybe it was his pro-life stance,
Laughable with the knowledge that the only life he cares about is his own.
Or are you simply worshipping at the altar of greed and power?
Regurgitating lies and misconceptions in some misguided hero worship?
And holding on to the promise of a return to a “great” country
That was only great for a few?
Because…
Spoiler alert…
He
Doesn’t
Care
About
You.
I can feel and relate to all the head shaking, hand-wringing bewilderment and frustration of your poem!
Karri, using a saying the students on campus would use: "Truth!" As someone involved in politics fir a liong time in one way or another, I appreciate the honesty, bewilderment and exasperation of your poem.
TRUTH!!!
He really does not care about me, you or anyone but himself. I agree with Larry, TRUTH!!! Thank you for this poem, I am bewildered by all of it all too.
Snapping, clapping and whistling after reading this, Karri. Not just because I am aligned with your views, but because the cadence and word choices and pacing are all so effective. You really stuck the landing! #truthBOMB
I remember specifically posting something like "He doesn't care about you!" before the last election. As Larry said, I feel the honesty, bewilderment, and exasperation here.
Karri, your poem perfectly captures all the puzzling things about the man's cult following. Among the nearly half of voters who support him, there have to be a lot of reasonably reasonable people in there, right? I wish there were a way to make them really feel the points you raise here, particularly the last five lines.
I'm so glad you used some of your spoons to put this important poem, with its many droplets out into the world! It's powerful, poignant, clever and timely but also timeless (sadly). Your mention of Mitch McConnell inspired me to write this poem with him, or fear-mongering politicians who have long-overstayed their positions that I had in mind as my "audience."
Just wait.
It might be good
to hesitate
before you
debate,
obfuscate,
legislate,
subjugate,
annihilate.
Just pause.
Reflect and notice,
if you would,
just how deeply
you may have misunderstood.
See how your fear doubles?
How it’s both cause and effect
of all the troubles
you’ve strained to control and strived to correct?
Here you may be struck clear, or not.
You may be too late, or not,
to surrender your bellows
to repent, genuflect, recompense your fellows.
The flames of fear you fanned spanned
years, charred dreams, wrought tears.
These flames may or may not rage uncontained.
May or may not consume all things near
as they scorch from inside out, self-sustained.
You ventured everything, yet little was gained.
A steep price to pay for a dubious career.
Ooooh I want to hear you read this one aloud! (Maybe I should read it to Mitch next time I call him?) It's wonderful. The notion of fear being both the cause and effect feels so profound and so spot on.
By all means, feel free to read this to Mitch next time you get him on the line 😂
Rave on, Keith. This is so poignant and powerful. I'm not sure Mitch has the rhythm to pick up the sweet cadence of your poem, but he can still hear, and somewhere there is a heart and soul. I propose to swing by and pick you up and we'll drive down to Kentucky, read it to Mitch, and say hello to Lisa! I say Kentucky, because I sense Mitch would hear a little more clearly there.
Oh please do!!
I love this idea: roadtripping from New England to Kentucky to pitch to Mitch and play with Lisa!
Nice work, Keith! At first I enjoyed picturing Mitch having this read to him while making that weird gaping turtle face he has in every photo... but then even more fun than that was to picture him hitting rock-bottom and reading it to himself in the mirror, which of course prompted me to impersonate him and do this. At some point Me-Mitch got too sad saying all this stuff out loud to my-himself and had to go back to a regular voice, but it was a treat while it lasted.
Would it feel good to share it with him? Lisa turned me on to calling my senators after hours so I can soapbox to my heart's content in a voicemail. You could give him the reading he deserves!
Please tell me you take a video of yourself doing this! I want to see You-Mitch!
"Gaping turtle face" is such an apt way to describe him <chortle>! I hope you were able to come back unscathed from channeling Mitch-in-the-mirror - let us know if you need any sort of poetic epi-pen intervention! The power of suggestion may indeed lead me to take a more direct deliver-to-audience approach at some point ; )
Wonderful rhythm to this....and just imagining you standing outside McConnell's office reading it to him! My husband and I were just having this conversation the other day with the news of him retiring. At the end of the day how does one look back and say "well done selling my soul...."
Thanks, Karri - and such a good point - I wonder if he can possibly feel at peace with what he has done (he doesn't appear to me a soul at peace!)?
Right on, Karri! Tim Scott and Lindsey Graham may be able to answer your question at the end.
My sentiments exactly. Thanks for putting words to this, "a steep price to pay for a dubious career." Indeed! Would be wonderful for your poem and Lisa's poem to be read at every congressional, political meeting. And we again are on the same page. I directed mine to politicians too.
Thanks, Julie. I really think that poets should make policy. It would be a far more benevolent world, at least in my fantasy! Looking forward to reading your poem...
This is definitely another poem that I would love to hear as spoken work (and almost feel like I can). I always love your rhythm and rhyming, and I think it serves this poem well.
I especially love the part about fear doubling - which itself has a double meaning, as their fear feeds and is fed by the fear of their followers, and continues to grow.
Thank you, A. I've been having so much fun lately with the rhyming. I guess I go through phases where I'm really feeling it. It makes some inner kid part of self very happy :))
Thank you Lisa for this stirring and beautiful start to the day. I'm not a poet, but grateful to be along for the ride, and so very proud of you.
Thank y'all for your good & fine words,
in awe of you guys painting this prompt with such powerfully sad and angry and defiant and confident brush strokes, this one almost stayed in my head. Then my son calls home.
I feel this poem deeply....I have been burying my head in the sand lately and need to get back out there (at least on the keyboard!) and get more involved. Your poem was love and hope and light....and for that I thank you!
Thank you, Karri! I do believe all of our drops are needed in the ocean, AND there are seasons in our life when maybe we need to let ourselves spend some time in the sand, too. My sense is that you're in a hard season. Proceed gently, friend. 💕
State of the Union
.
People say I’m an empath
but I must not be
a very good one, because
I can’t fit your mindset
into my brain, can’t feel
your world at all. I’d put
fistfuls of Andrew Jacksons
down on my outsider’s
perspective of you (so many
lightbulbs last night!), but
that’s not the same thing
as trying on your eyes,
your heart – not even close.
.
You’re a bro. That was my
main lightbulb, watching you.
You were once a football star.
You are affable, extroverted,
and not as smart as we wish
you were. Per the internet,
I called all these things correctly,
and for me, they make you
most likely not a monster.
.
If I were a better empath,
I could slip into your
letterman jacket (Go Auks!),
see 30,000 dead, and
understand why the score
is still not settled.
See two million starving
and feel I’ve done my part
by dropping an MRE
for every twentieth person.
See the tanking polls
at home, the old nightmare
gassing up for another lap,
and get why it’s best
to refuse to be changed.
.
But I can’t get inside,
and am left with only
the pattest, saddest lightbulb
on why you, a presumed
non-monster, keeps doing
monstrous things:
Bros are no
good at math.
But you're such a good empath for TRYING to fit inside his brain! This is such a beautiful, sad, reflective, thought-provoking, image-rich poem.
This is splendid, Rebekah! You are empathetic, and my sense is that this empathy has a 360 degree scope, and moves through understanding and compassion and leads you back to the place of outrage and a movement towards wholeness and healing and a ceasing of the fury, fire and anniliation. One of the things we can hope for is reaching the leaders who do have heart and compassion, and helping them find their way back to their best natures. I am very grateful for you and your actvism on this and other issues.
Lisa, your poem leaves me breathless and speechless…at least for a little while! This is a truly beautiful poem, and one I would like to read from the rooftops. I will
I'll not be on a roof this afternoon, but will be in a contemplative prayer service and a Diaconate meeting, and will read it there.
We are all beautifully human, but today, like so many days, you are a shining light for me and many other. The words “thank you” feel inadequate, so a deep bow of gratitude to you. 🙏🏻
Thank you so much, Larry! And I'm honored if you ended up sharing it in your meeting (or even considered doing so). I am bowing with gratitude right back at you.
I did share in two settings, and folks really appreciated hearing and reading it. Thank you! 😊
Thank you for this beautiful poem, Lisa. Your writing makes me feel much less alone.
It's hard to wish for a better compliment than that! Thank you so much, A.