Tag Archives: Protest

Lovecraftian Loathing Lullaby

 


Lovecraftian Loathing Lullaby

Eldritch horrors ain’t my thing.
I dread the nightmares that they bring.
Monsters, killing—all that stuff?
Years ago, I’d had enough.

Inflation, nuclear arms, pollution?
Fantasy is no solution.
I’m tired of the razzmatazz—
computer games and all that jazz.

Horror’s not just a game, you know.
Lately, it’s the status-quo.
Game violence a pretext for
prompting violence galore.

No wonder guns and bombs and knives
have complicated modern lives.
We keep getting dumb and dumber.
Modern life is such a bummer!!!!

 

 

Prompt words today are Eldritch, (oh, come on, now!) jazz, pretext, inflation. The other prompt word hasn’t been posted. Image by Robert Coelho on Unsplash. 

 

Eldritch is an English word used to describe something otherworldly, weird, ghostly, or uncanny. In contemporary culture, the term is closely associated with Lovecraftian horror.

Unruly Behavior


Unruly Behavior

His mat of curly snow-white hair his most distinctive feature,
he wore his pelt upon his head like some lanigerous creature.

A trial to this innocent lamb was that daily battle
with his unruly students who milled around like cattle, 
and because he was a gentle man who never used the belt,
they never knew precisely how horrible he felt.
Still, tongues can drub as lethally as bludgeons or as bats
to destroy  a weak opponent. So, without a doubt, that’s
why he walked out on eighth period, and what he did instead
was to resolve the problem with a bullet through his head.

In the early seventies, with its schools grossly understaffed, the Australian government started recruiting abroad, offering airfare and a “settling in” allowance to any chosen foreign teacher willing to emigrate to Australia. I jumped at the chance and days after my graduation from college, I flew to Sydney for a week-long  orientation session, then went on to Wollongong where I finished out the school year as a supernumerary teacher in a special school for the top students in the area, taking over a few classes from each overburdened teacher until I could be assigned to my own schedule the following semester. What happened, however, was that after a few months, I was reassigned to replace a teacher who had been fired for smoking pot with his students at a school in a government migrant housing district in the middle of the steel mill area.

The classes were not only overfilled, with 38 students per class, but they were also ability-grouped, with top students in the A group and the lowest-performing students in the D through F groups. As a new teacher, I was assigned mainly to these low-performance classes which in truth meant that I was also teaching the classes with disruptive students who displayed the most behavior problems.

So it was with Charles, another teacher recruited from the states—an older man who after flying to Australia and furnishing his apartment,  one day in the middle of an especially confrontational class session with his 3F class, walked out the door, packed his bags and flew back to the states that night, leaving off the keys to his apartment at our apartment on his way to the airport, directing us to dispense with its contents as we saw fit.

I was reminded of this on Facebook today when a fellow-teacher marked the 50th anniversary of that wild year by sending me a photo of kitchen utensils they had culled from Charles’s apartment—which they use to this day. My roommate and I scored his dining room table, a single mattress which we put on the floor in our living room to use as a couch, and a woven tablecloth we hung on the wall above the “couch.”

Although some of the details have been changed to allow the prompts to be used, (our Charles was bald and thankfully figured out a less-violent solution to his problem) this poem was inspired by the memory of his action. I, on the other hand, finished out that year and re-upped for another, completing  that year as well before becoming one of the notorious “Berkeley 14,” who prompted a district-wide walk-out in protest to teaching conditions. But that is a story for another day, another prompt.

Here are the only photos I have of my Australian crew of friends, all of whom taught at the school where I taught as well. You can see Charles’ table, his mattress (floor couch) as well as his bedspread we hung on the wall in our dining room. My friends did not always dress this strangely. This was a Bazza McKenzie party–and guests were to come dressed in the worst possible taste to reflect Bazza’s stereotyped Australian personality. The guy in the “revolutionary” outfit complete with steel-wool beard and pineapple grenade (compiled by us, to reflect his anti-Bazza personality) is Chuck–one of the instigators of the Berkeley 14 protest. Can’t remember how many others in this group were part of it. I think I’ve explained it in another post. If so, I’ll include a link.

Prompts today are lanigerous, belt, innocence, drub and battle. The photo of the sheep is by Sulthan Auliya on Unsplash.

Protest or Assent?

 


Protest or Assent?

The ratio between dissent and absolute compliance–
the odds that we’ll react with order or with strong defiance—
depends on several factors, but the stats insinuate
a majority of people will just equivocate.

If they feel one or the other will work out in their favor,
they’ll take the medicine dished out, no matter what the flavor.
Or if there is a bargain to be gained by compromising,
or a sure advantage that’s outlined by advertising,

they will sublimate their feelings and just go with the flow.
If to do so bends their ethics, well, who will ever know?
Thus, our ethical behavior may change from day to day
depending on temptations that fate may send our way.

 

Prompt words today are insinuate, medicine, bargain, dissent and ratio.

The Comfort of Old Men

Photo by Jan Abellan for Unsplash. Used with permission

The Comfort of Old Men

Children are sleeping sound in their beds,
inured to the missiles launched over their heads.
They’re used to the discipline of a cruel world
where bullets are served when the flag is unfurled.

They call it allegiance their country to serve
Old men sit at tables displaying their nerve
by setting out battle plans whereby the young
provide the chests where the medals are hung

that they earn facing death so the old men can gain
more gold that the young men pay for with their pain.
They posture and pose. They salute and they brag.
They call it a privilege serving your flag,

but none of the old face the bullets and fire.
It is not the aged men marked to expire.
Their rigors of battle are all of the head.
None twist to the impact of napalm or lead,

but war’s golden rewards are amassed in their pockets.
Munitions and guns and bullets and rockets
are the fruit of their plunder and part of the fun
they will buy from the profit they make from each gun.

This generation’s blood sweat and tears
will pay for the yachts of the rich and the gears
of the factories smudging the skies with their waste.
Air chokes on their vapors, the oceans all taste

their lethal remainders and sicken and die.
We have poisoned our water, our earth and our sky.
What is left once the old men have all had their say?
They will live life in splendor and the future will pay.

Prompt words for today are inure, twist, golden, privilege and discipline.

America’s Burning

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America’s Burning

Count the faces. Take a tally
of the peaceful protest rally.
Their routine is most well-planned,
masks in place, placards in hand.

Enter police. Down on belly!!!
Enter newscasters for telly.
Teargas in the people’s park.
Truckloads arrive after dark.

Rioting and smashing glass.
Other dark deeds come to pass.
Using protest for excuse
to bring discord and spread abuse.

Violence becomes routine.
Authority a cruel machine.
A whole nation comes to grieve
the loss of what most folks believe.

An orange bigot, Bible raised,
pontificates, posturing, crazed.
A landmark of our country’s pride,
struck by a flash as freedom died.

Has our nation come to this?
This puffed-up, prideful bag of piss?
Shame on a country who listens to
a fool who’s rotten through and through.

Let sane men take the lead  and bring
some sanity to everything.
Equality and fairness reign
under a government more sane.

People stand up. Demand the best.
Do not give up. We cannot rest.
Seize back the country we have sold
to men who only care for gold.

Give succor to the halt and lame.
Do not play the money game
subsidizing rich man’s greed
instead of helping those in need.

Color is just an outer skin
and not a mark of shame or sin.
Use these sad times to make a start
to start to recognize the heart

that unites men from every nation,
every interest, every station.
Save our earth and save mankind.
Restore justice, and make her blind!!

Prompt words today are belly, landmark, grieve, rally and routine. I swore I’d write about something other than the rallies and violence that are tearing at the flesh of the whole world, but impossible to follow these prompt words anywhere except back to the current matters at hand.

Right Wing Conspiracists Pull from Old Playbook to Blame George Soros for Riots

 

Screen Shot 2020-06-01 at 3.54.15 PMhttps://www.forbes.com/sites/sergeiklebnikov/2020/05/30/right-wing-conspiracists-pull-from-old-playbook-blame-george-soros-for-riots/#35a728414100

Stationary


Stationary

Feet firmly planted, I’m not prone to budge.
So, have me arrested. Bring on the judge.
You’re better off giving me a gentle nudge,
for I will not be altered by law or decree.
Better that you use sound logic with me.

 

“Stationary” was a prompt for the Ragtag Daily Prompt

Overdressed

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Overdressed

“So, I reckon you’re naked under all them clothes?”

It was either the dumbest or cleverest pick-up line she had ever heard. Everyone else seemed in a state of shock over what she was wearing, and already one person had tried to oust her, but she could see no signs that actually said “Nude Beach,” so she was sticking her ground.

No one on this earth was going to tell her what she should (or in this case, shouldn’t) be wearing. Next week she intended on entering everyone’s favorite coffee shop with no shoes, no shirt. That should balance things out a bit.

Prompts for today are reckoning, either, naked, oust and state.

Jan. 21, 2017: Love, Peace and Solidarity March in La Manzanilla, Mexico

The march and demonstration in La Manzanilla, Mexico, the day after President Trump’s inauguration was by no means strictly a women’s march, as you will see by these photos.  Inspiring. No violence.  No anger.  Just statements of beliefs and expressions of unity. Men, women, children, Mexicans, Canadians, Americans.  A well-thought-out and positive speech, many hats, many signs, short four block march around the triangle. I love the people who live all or part of the year in this town.

(Click on first photo to enlarge all and see translations of the signs.)

 

Favorite Quote: Day 2

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Peruvian children, Amazon River trip.

“We acquire the strength we have overcome.”
                                                                                –Ralph Waldo Emerson

In some primitive cultures, it was believed that if you ate the heart of an enemy, you acquired his strength.  I stop short of this, but I do know that standing up for ourselves or others in spite of our fears does strengthen character. I think this is what Emerson is talking about. One of my greatest weaknesses is, I know, wanting to be liked by all. Now and then, however, I have rebelled and  stood up for what I believed in spite of popular opinion or in rebellion against the powers that were at the time. Luckily, all usually came out well even though I chose to put myself at risk. Then, back to a comfortable life.  Not for me the perpetual picket line or protest.  The rest of the time my pen is my placard.