Tag Archives: Politics

Cultural Shunning

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Cultural Shunning

We tend to underestimate,
to isolate or tease or bait
the children of the heads of state
sent to our country to educate.

We shun them or we inundate
with judgments that excoriate
their daily prayers that ululate,
or trappings that seem too ornate.

Before you do, please choose to wait,
considering what is the fate
of these strangers you think you hate
who’ve entered in our nation’s gate.

That student that you underrate?
That strange man that you will not date,
make fun of over dress or weight?
One day may be a potentate!

I wonder, can you “guesstimate”
how likely when he’s called to rate
our country as a foe or mate––
he is to underestimate?

The word prompt today was “Underestimate.”

Ordained Corruption

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Ordained Corruption

It’s hardly worth the time it takes to rail against the gross corruption.
It’s gotten so the lack of it is what is classed as interruption.
Pure evil seems to run the world with scalawags who dupe the people.
False prophets fooling idiots who think because they hug a steeple
God has ordained all that they say, forgetting who they hurt or batter.
All they proclaim is what’s believed. The harm they do seems not to matter.

Good churchmen please examine closer what the ones who lead are saying.
The evil that they do is not abolished by the fact they’re praying.
Mean acts against humanity are wrong no matter what you call them.
True holy men are those who find that unkind acts always appall them.
You cannot keep the world you live in safe behind a towering wall.
When the true danger you’re not seeing crouches there inside you all.

The NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem whose lines contained seventeen syllables each. Yes. I did it. Can’t resist a challenge. I asked forgottenman to give me a one word prompt yesterday, but his response came too late, so I used it today.  His prompt was “Corruption.”

http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-seven-2/

DEMOCRACY

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When my sister Patti and her friend Karen Bossart were little girls, they were asked to sing a song for entertainment at the Republican Convention. Unbeknownst to those who asked them, my parents and hers were some of the few democrats in town. Imagine their surprise when my sister and Karen got up and sang wearing these badges! When we all got together earlier this summer, it just so happens that Karen had saved her badge, which now forms a reasonably appropriate illustration for this post.

In response to my today’s post “The Three Stooges and Campaign Reform,”  Mark Aldrich sent me a link to  THIS YouTube video of Leonard Cohen singing his song “Democracy.”  The lyrics are below:

“Democracy”

It’s coming through a hole in the air,
from those nights in Tiananmen Square.
It’s coming from the feel
that this ain’t exactly real,
or it’s real, but it ain’t exactly there.
From the wars against disorder,
from the sirens night and day,
from the fires of the homeless,
from the ashes of the gay:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s coming through a crack in the wall;
on a visionary flood of alcohol;
from the staggering account
of the Sermon on the Mount
which I don’t pretend to understand at all.
It’s coming from the silence
on the dock of the bay,
from the brave, the bold, the battered
heart of Chevrolet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

It’s coming from the sorrow in the street,
the holy places where the races meet;
from the homicidal bitchin’
that goes down in every kitchen
to determine who will serve and who will eat.
From the wells of disappointment
where the women kneel to pray
for the grace of God in the desert here
and the desert far away:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.

It’s coming to America first,
the cradle of the best and of the worst.
It’s here they got the range
and the machinery for change
and it’s here they got the spiritual thirst.
It’s here the family’s broken
and it’s here the lonely say
that the heart has got to open
in a fundamental way:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

It’s coming from the women and the men.
O baby, we’ll be making love again.
We’ll be going down so deep
the river’s going to weep,
and the mountain’s going to shout Amen!
It’s coming like the tidal flood
beneath the lunar sway,
imperial, mysterious,
in amorous array:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

Sail on, sail on …

I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean
I love the country but I can’t stand the scene.
And I’m neither left or right
I’m just staying home tonight,
getting lost in that hopeless little screen.
But I’m stubborn as those garbage bags
that Time cannot decay,
I’m junk but I’m still holding up
this little wild bouquet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

I must admit that these lyrics puzzle me.  I think its message is pessimistic and ironic and to a degree hopeless.  Perhaps he is saying that everyone will get fed up enough with the decay of democracy in the U.S. to do something about it, but it still feels to me that the overall message is one of irony.  Everyone is fed up.  The hints of encroaching democracy are more obvious in China in Tiananmen Square (although I believe by the 1990’s democracy had been pretty much squelched in China as well) than in the land of democracy and opportunity for all.  Where is this change coming from?  It is obvious it is not coming from the power brokers and wealthy who have sold democracy for their own enrichment.  It must, then, come from us.

How then does Cohen see us–we who must bring back democracy? The family is broken, democracy ain’t exactly real and it ain’t exactly here. Gay rights seem dead (remember, this is 1990), the homeless fill the streets, auto companies are failing, wars are being waged, sirens are wailing (much like Cohen himself) and women are complaining in their kitchens. Everybody seems pretty unhappy. Even Cohen chooses to retreat into escaping into his TV set, declaring, all the while, that he is as indestructible as those garbage bags that will still be around for the judgement day.

To me, it looks like the outlook is pretty desultory.  But this was what–25 years ago?  What does the situation look like now?  Lest this post get too burdensome, and because I have an appointment in an hour, please come back later for my answer.  Yes, I do have the beginning of one in drafts.  Just not the time to complete it.

My thanks go to Mark Aldrich, one of the best commentators on the blogs today, for providing the impetus for this post.  Mark, you might have more illuminating words to speak about these lyrics. I welcome the input of all.  I am not as versed in politics as most.  I can barely stand to watch the news anymore, and I think I’m not alone in this.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens in this world.  I think we each do what we can in the way that most suits our personality. If you are reading this, chances are you have chosen the same way I have–blogging–and I thank Mark and all of the others out there in the world who bring us sound and fair reportage of what is going on.

Later tonight I am actually going to bring to you another Leonard Cohen song that I think perhaps holds out a bit more hope for us–and perhaps a few solutions.  Thanks for reading.  I welcome your comments.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/the-fun-platform/

                                      The Three Stooges and National Campaign Reform

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If I could change one thing about my country, it would be the national campaign and campaign financing process!  The three ring circus that now exists is anything but fun.  The posturing, lies, mud-slinging and character defamation (and recently the presidential candidates themselves) are more reminiscent of the Three Stooges than of the dignified performances that it seems should be called for on the part of those who are going to run our country and determine our futures.

I would like to see a system where presidential candidates are allowed to campaign for four months only.  This would be done during a series of twice weekly debates and interviews run by a non-partial panel of interviewers who ask questions on key issues.

Each candidate would also be afforded so much space in newspapers per week but the articles would also be written by nonpartial journalists.  Biographies of candidates would be written, again, by third parties who have no stake in election results.

The biggest change might be to totally outlaw campaign financing and instead to set up a common fund for candidates and to provide equal time for all of the leading candidates that would be provided by the networks and individual newspapers and national magazines. An additional advantage to this banning of campaign financing is that it might curb influence-peddling and graft and corruption in voting.  Perhaps we could get out of the power clutch of big business and again make our government one by the people, of the people and for the people rather than one serving the interests of mainly the powerful and wealthy.

This may sound idealistic, but wouldn’t it be wonderful to be able to base your votes on real information rather than theatrics, mud-slinging and character defamation?  Perhaps if candidates were limited in the time they were given they would use that time to confront the real issues.

I don’t know how mailings and internet contact of private citizens could be regulated without impinging on the rights of free speech, as it would be a dangerous precedent to limit mention of candidates on various social platforms, but perhaps someone else could figure out some way to stop the current slander and libel and cruel character assassinations that occur on the internet.  If not, at least we could encourage our government leaders not to serve as the patterns for such behavior.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Fun Platform.” If you were the new leader of your country and had the chance to transform something that’s currently an annoyance (or worse) into a very fun activity, what would it be? How would you go about the change, and why would you choose that particular thing?

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Although this is a picture of my childhood friend and me, it is used for illustrative purposes only. The poem is fictional and in no way describes either one of us.

Fidelity

“We’ve been friends since we were skinny!”
–Anonymous

Yes, we grew up friends and stood up at each others’ weddings.
She was there for all my break-ups. I was there for all her beddings.
And though she thinks I’m poorly dressed and I think she’s a snob
who only talks about her “things,” fashion and her job.
And though she lets her eyes stray, like she finds my talk is boring,
and puts polish on her fingernails  while mine are apple coring.

Though she prefers the opera while I like the Avett Brothers,
and dines on caviar while Burger King is more my druthers.
While she shops for Michael Kors, Yves Saint Laurent and Fendi,
Ross Dress for Less is where I shop for clothes that are less trendy.
She drives a new Mercedes while I drive a beat-up Chevy.
While she works out at her health spa, I have let myself get heavy.

Yet none of this has ever put our friendship in the skids.
I pat her little yappy dog. She puts up with my kids.
For though we’ve evolved differently,  she still is my best friend,
and the history between us means our bond will never end.
Though she lives in a mansion and my house is a dump,
Just one thing could divide us. That is–if she votes for Trump!!!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Delayed Contact.” How would you get along with your sibling(s), parent(s), or any other person you’ve known for a long time — if you only met them for the first time today?

Please read Anglo Swiss’s post before mine.  You may find it in the Reader or HERE.

A Leader Reader

Politics distress me. They send me to my bed.
I prefer the nightmares that I conjure in my head.
For to get over nightmares, it is a piece of cake.
I simply give up sleeping and remain wide awake.

But the world situations that most bother me
do not disappear when I turn off the damn TV.
They just go on mouldering when they’re not in my view
while all our fearless leaders just do and do and do.

I think that the solution might just be to tell them, “Stop!!!”
Every nation on the earth trying to be cop
for all the other nations seems somehow not to work,
for sometimes the one supervising is the biggest jerk!

Though I don’t know the answer, perhaps the Swiss are right.
Perhaps yearly elections would do less to incite
pork-barrel legislation when each man has a vote
the needs of common men might replace needs of men of note.

The only problem we might face, doing so much voting
is that it just might interfere with our TV remoting.
It might be necessary to replace “reality” shows
with just plain reality–where everybody knows

each bill that’s passed and all the facts of governing our nation,
so we would grow up wiser each succeeding generation.
Voting done on cellphones or Android application
might bring out the vote at last, much to the consternation

of politicians dependent on propaganda’s lies,
hoping that the real facts never come before our eyes.
All this campaign financing a phantom of the past
while we’re presented with the truth–finally, at last!!!

(I cite poetic license, folks, as my excuse for this poem. I realize this is a simplistic solution to the world’s problems.  Our government in the U.S. is perhaps too large and too complicated for the Swiss system of governing, so it is  best this world is not governed by such as I!!!)

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: Dear Leader–If your government (local or national) accomplishes one thing this year, what would you like that to be?

Campaign Financing and Other Political Solutions

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If you had been a fly on the wall at Linda and Steve’s house last week when Dan and Laurie and I came for dinner, this is some of the silly (or not so silly) discussion you might have overheard.

About the ridiculous amount spent on political campaigns in an attempt to “buy” the election or slur the other candidate:

Judy says, “No candidate should be able to spend any money on campaigns. Radio and TV stations should provide an equal amount of time for each candidate to state their beliefs and platforms and that is it!”

Linda added, more entertainingly: “I think that they should make every election into a reality series.  What American could resist watching Obama and Romney swap wives?  I would have loved to have seen Michelle chew Mitt’s ass in twenty different ways.  Or, determine the election by means of duels. Every single election, you’d get rid of 50 percent of the politicians.”

Judy: “What about survivor? You put them all together, naked, on an island with only the amount of health care they support for the masses to come to their aid in case of snake bite, sunburn or heart attack.

Dan and Laurie: “Or make it an amazing race. Put “I support gay marriage” on their bumper sticker and send them through the deep south. Or “The Earth is Flat” through California.

I lost track of who said this: “Or, create a bumper sticker that would make them all face a similar risk no matter where they go: Nuke a Gay Whale for Jesus–and see how adept they are at getting out of difficult situations.”

Okay viewers, a challenge. What sort of reality show would you like to suggest for political candidates to prove their mettle?
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NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 8–Palinode Poem

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The Prompt: Write a palinode–a poem in which the poet retracts a statement made in an earlier poem. if you don’t have an actual poetically-expressed statement you want to retract, maybe you could write a poem in which you explain your reasons for changing your mind about something.

Of Stable Mind

There’s nothing I said yesterday that I’d like to retract.
Such wishy-washy thought systems leave me cold, in fact.
Those things that I believed in last week, last month, last year
are pretty much the standards that I still hold dear.
I’m not veering toward the right. I don’t like war games much.
Haven’t changed my taste for chocolate or changed to Greek from Dutch.
I still like Indie movies, the Avett Brothers and
prefer the beach to mountains as I like my walks in sand.
Though change is epidemic with apps changing every day,
when it comes to my beliefs, I think that I’m just going to stay
right here in the middle of the leftward slanting crowd–
where thinking for yourself is both encouraged and allowed.
No knee jerk either way, please, and respect for everyone
so long as they aren’t given to persuasion with a gun.
So I’ll post no apologia for anything I’m thinking.
I’ll row home in the boat I came in even if it’s sinking!

Party of Twelve

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The Prompt: Seat Guru—You get to plan a dinner party for 4-8 of your favorite writers/artists/musicians/other notable figures, whether dead or alive. Who do you seat next to whom in order to inspire the most fun evening?

I chose twelve guests, plus myself. The seating chart is below. You will have to imagine me sitting in the exact middle of the table shaped like a ring around me.

Dinner for 12 seat chart

Party of Twelve

I have planned the dinner party, set the table, cooked the food,
but decisions about seating charts is ruining my mood;
for I want to sit by everyone, hear every conversation,
and trying to choose only two is causing consternation.
I think, therefore, I’d put me on a chair right in the center
on a sort of lazy Susan so I’d be able to enter
every conversation and to listen in on all,
seeing how they fare just like a fly upon the wall.

I’d have a little foot pedal to spin me at my ease—
enjoy Chaucer with my salad and Jane Austen with my cheese.
Jesus Christ and Whoopi could gang up on Rush and tell
why he’s the one who’s going to be broadcasting in Hell.
Osama bin Laden would be seated ear-to-ear
with Mohammed who would tell him what all terrorists should hear:
that the truth of the religion has got lost along the way,
for no one who is enlightened wants to kill and burn and slay.
Steve Martin would be there for fun to loosen up Osama
and spar with Rush to get his mind off Hillary and Obama.

I’d ask two people from real life to join us at the table:
Doug between the prophets so he’d finally be able
to be faced with the real men so he can sort out fact and fiction
and show it’s the religions that have caused us all the friction.
The men themselves had peace at heart and must bemoan the end
that power brokers bring the world to as their truth they bend.

The other person that I want to have here at my meal
is Ann Garcia, for I know her pleasure would be real.
Seated by Jane Austen, she would question her and tell
of her appreciation of the books she’s loved so well.
Barbara Kingsolver I’d seat upon on her other side.
She, too, would get much praise but also would have to abide
many interruptions from one listening from the middle,
for I’d be hopping back and forth like water on a griddle.

These people all are here because my curiosity
is whetted by my fantasies of what I’ll hear and see.
There is another guest that I’ve neglected to reveal,
but he is central to the plot of this illustrious meal.
Geoffrey Chaucer would be there to listen and relate
the story of this group of people that we love and hate.
So all the world could hear the tale of what we learned at table.
This earliest father of literature is surely the most able
to see the truth of character and spin a tale to tell
the truth of what will save our world from fire, brimstone, Hell!

And then, one final person I’d invite to be a guest
is Barbara Walters, who would come to interview the rest;
so we’d be sure that all received their moment in the sun,
and we could question them after her interview was done.

If you have any questions that you’d like an answer to,
most happily, I’ll ask them and pass answers on to you.
I will not mind a bit assuming this laborious task.
Just comment on this poem and say what you would like to ask
of Chaucer or of Jesus or of Whoopi or of Steve.
If they’re still here, I’ll ask them, or if they have chosen to leave,
I’ll channel them in poetry and say what I believe
they’d say if your request were one they could themselves receive.
But for now our party’s over and our guests have all departed.
Many better-fed, and (let’s hope) some more open-hearted!!!

P.S. The number of guests at my dinner party is coincidental. In no way is this poem meant to allude to another illustrious dinner of twelve plus one.

P.P.S.  Oops..Barbara Walters somehow got bounced off the seating chart.  I guess I’ll give her my seat and I’ll just roam around the perimeter, helping my sister serve the soup, but mostly just listening in and butting in. So this really should be called “Party of Thirteen.” I also had Will Rogers on my original seating plan, but he was somehow omitted.  It was my first time using the program that created the seating chart and it took me longer to get it together than to write the entire poem. Sorry Will, I’ll catch you later.  Perhaps devote an entire poem to you.