legacy ~ a poem (or a thought)


, ,

i read today that a german nobel prize winner

who invented a form of poison gas used

in wwi against the french to remarkable effect

was jewish and that his formula was used elsewhere

after his death to even greater effect in wwii.

things like this make me wonder if humble

unknown unlauded acts (maybe even

something like my rescue of an injured

sparrow that I eventually coaxed back

to health with flax seeds and water droplets

who later flew away into the bright sky)

are worthier endeavors than some of the most

brilliant accomplishments of humankind.


let’s share ~ a poem (or a thought)


, , , , ,

there is something in the air
first an ember then an ash
that sparks a revolution
then it makes a few some cash

but why is it ideas
can’t remain alive and free
free to improve all our lives
yes all of humanity

will we ever come to see
when something is in the air
it is not just for a few
but for everyone to share

day of the dead ~ a poem


, , , , , ,

I have dreams where just before
waking I catch glimpses of those
who have left for parts unknown

they appear as they were
their faces unaltered
alive in new settings that are
sometimes welcome sometimes not

and yet whether I’m chilled to the bone
with wonder or horror I am always grateful

grateful to know that somewhere
deep inside I remember with a clarity
as sharp as the sharpest blade
the green-gray-smoky-amber color of their eyes
the upturned-downcast flash of their smiles
even a way of moving that was theirs alone

I remember it all whereas in the waking hours
the long bright stretch until night
I find it hard to remember

carnival ~ a poem


, , , , , ,

self-deprecating absurdity
that comes from my pops
thanks pops

dark visions of doom
that comes from my mom
thanks mom

somewhere in between
I reside

funhouse mirrors all around
sometimes I’m this
sometimes that sometimes
I disappear altogether
into the slipstream of time

but have no fear I’ll reappear
when the carnival’s back in town

justice turns a blind eye, or the injustice of the supreme court ~ an article


, , , , , ,

There’s the saying that “justice is blind,” but when it comes to the u.s. supreme court throughout history, the saying that best applies in many cases is “justice turns a blind eye.” See this article in the Atlantic.


The justices did not resurrect Dred Scott v. Sandford’s antebellum declaration that a black man had no rights that a white man was bound to respect. Rather, they carefully framed their arguments in terms of limited government and individual liberty, writing opinion after opinion that allowed the white South to create an oppressive society in which black Americans had almost no rights at all. Their commitment to freedom in the abstract, and only in the abstract, allowed a brutal despotism to take root in Southern soil.

The conservative majority on the Supreme Court today is similarly blinded by a commitment to liberty in theory that ignores the reality of how Americans’ lives are actually lived. Like the Supreme Court of that era, the conservatives on the Court today are opposed to discrimination in principle, and indifferent to it in practice. Chief Justice John Roberts’s June 2018 ruling to uphold President Donald Trump’s travel ban targeting a list of majority-Muslim countries, despite the voluminous evidence that it had been conceived in animus, showed that the muddled doctrines of the post-Reconstruction period retain a stubborn appeal.

gypsy boy ~ a poem


, , , ,

sometimes i dream dreams i don’t want to dream
like the one i had about you last night
you were digging into a patch of hard ground
barely making a dent but still you dug thrusting
the blade into the earth over and over again

when you stopped for a moment to acknowledge me
i saw your eyes had lost their ever-so-welcoming
look of sardonic good humor that i remember so well
instead they were glazed and weary accepting of defeat

you said i’m tired of running and i said that’s why i came
to tell you that i knew though this didn’t make much sense
even in the context of the dream even if you were
always just a gypsy boy roaming about in one place

next time when i fall asleep thinking about you
about why i haven’t seen you in such a long time
i’m going to will my subconscious to come up with
a happier dream so that i’ll wake up maybe not
with a smile on my face but at least in a better
frame of mind than the one i woke up in today