I am one of those who stands amazed at how good we Americans are at hating each other. (An article I read in Tablet Magazine sums it up pretty well.) We aren’t completely broken as a nation, but we’re getting there — and fast, thanks to the usual suspects who stand to profit from our wounds.
Doomed with seeds of death Larvae in the heart of the nation Infecting as we feed Tenacious in our sanctimony Pauciloquent in offering peace Grandiloquent in stirring discord Blind worms blindly devouring Hope, love, understanding, Inflicting pain in a fractured society Never as fervent for another’s dignity As for ourselves, trampling harmony Freedom to disagree without fear Never overcoming what we are Broken by prideful venom At the core of every human heart.
“Avoid going entirely tree-blind,” writes the author of the article above. “Make a friend and don’t talk politics with them. Do things that generate love and attention from three people you actually know instead of hundreds you don’t.”
It’s the weekend, right? Let’s relax and party, maybe do a little rap for Michelle’s #JanuaryWritingPrompts (“space juice”), Sammi’s #WWP (100 words, “crucible”), and Linda’s #JusJoJan & #SOC (“limitless”). Hope you enjoy it! ❤️
I know what you’re thinking You say I’m just dreaming Maybe drinking space juice Telling me you’re cool too loose so intellectual not buying puffy clouds of television charlatans but you’re at Oprah’s book club sold on a Joseph Campbell mythic spiel of deity.
Listen, I’m not crazy look at what’s been given me my faith, a light leading me through this dark crucible called life I can see glory where you deny the invisible chasing material illusions hanging on to your blinders chained down, walled up by circumstance when you could be glorying in the limitless grandeur¹ of God.
¹Ecclesiastes 3:11 Also, he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.
A daughter born on the wrong side of the blanket given to a Count in marriage a political alliance for my father who gave my daughters away as hostages and another king’s son held as bond in my hands: my hands! O servants of the air! Promptly did I have his eyes put out. As promptly did Henry allow my daughters’ eyes blinded, their noses cut off as revenge – Do you wonder? So power-hungry progenitors bequeath the sacrifice of the innocent to this day.
Henry I was king of England from c. 1100– 1 December 1135. Historian Charles Spencer describes this brutally cruel event in his book The White Ship
Please no histrionics at the dinner table Wait till we’re on a flight to Tahiti Maybe the opera house in Sydney, The Tower of London with Yeoman Warders, On River Street in Savannah, Georgia, Somewhere in Portland or Philadelphia, Just wait till I finish my dinner in peace.