He stood on the balcony
and cast swine before pearls.
In the celebration of resurrection
he blathered about his kingdom.
Instead of lifting up the babies
he seemed oblivious to them.
Children chased the eggs.
He laid one claiming a child said,
“Please build the wall.”
He said, “Let the children at the
border suffer. Besides, they can’t
vote for me.”
Jesus said, “Suffer the little
children to come to me, for
to such belongs the Kingdom
He, a thirty-some-year-old Korean-American,
mathematician, two years widowed writes
of theoretical physics and equations
of his grief
at the death of his wife
and to help understand
in his bifurcated life.
She, a forty-some-year-old Indian-American,
poet, four years widowed writes
in metaphors and similes
of her grief
as the widowed wife
and to help understand
her bifurcated life.
He, a seventy-some-year-old, white guy,
remembers his late wife
in twenty-five years
of a bifurcated life.
Maybe sometime beyond time
and beyond the speed of light,
they won’t lead a bifurcated life.
The simple, common (growing less common)
usage is “Is there something I can help with?” Not
ending with a preposition, with the approval of a
high school sophomore English teacher, and more
often written than spoken, “Is there something with
which I can help?” Either way, spoken genuinely,
gently, caringly, compassionately, the world melts
with “Sure. That would be nice,” or “No. That’s okay;
I’m okay, but thanks,” or a shake of the head, yes
or no and a smile or tear or both — of gratitude.
*Once when I was having a frustrating time with
our new rescue Lab, a person, passing by, stopped
the car and, and with an air of superiority and
a tone of moral judgment, feigned an offer to
help but really wanted to put me down with an
accusation after a gross assumption of what was
transpiring. If that person simply had asked if
I needed help in a voice that confirmed the offer,
I believe everything would have been different;
I believe everything could be different, if….
Four fox kits clambered
up rocks to the waterfall
for sips of water.
They left for the den.
One came back to drink some more.
Where was the kits’ mom?
Easter morning, a young
fox chased a field mouse
through dune grass, which
will be mowed tomorrow —
the old grass providing a
perfect, if temporary, hunting
ground. The same tawny fox
chased a bird flying low behind
Norway Spruces. The fox
might have caught the mouse
but, for sure, missed the
little bird, but, still, thought
the person watching
the action, it was a beaut-
iful morning for a real
life hunt — for something
other than pastel colored
Easter eggs in a church yard.
The Mueller Report and
Attorney General’s Summary:
Moneyed, Republican white guys
going easy on moneyed, Republican
Moneyed, Republican white guys
passing judgment on a black:
Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root
Black body swinging in the Southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees
*Strange Fruit written by Abel Meeropol (using the pseudonym Lewis Allan)
who was deeply disturbed by a picture he saw of a lynching. Meeropol set
the song to music with his wife, Laura, and performed it at venues in
New York City. Billy Holiday recorded the song in 1939. Information from
The Writer’s Almanac, April 20, 2019
I am known as a male;
I am known as a white male;
I am known as white male of
Swedish and Dutch ethnicity;
I am known as a white male of
Scandinavian, Finnish, Russian,
English, Northern European, Indian
(from India) ethnicity;
I am known to be out of Africa;
I am known as a Christian;
I am known as a Buddhist Christian;
I am known as a Taoist Christian;
I am known as a Hindu Christian;
I am known, along with all other humans,
as a member of the one
race, the human race;
I am known as a part of creation;
I am known as a child of God;
I will know as I am known.
And the Senate Majority Leader
implored the Lord God to refrain
from sending the Lord God’s
wrath upon the US Senate be-
cause the senate Republicans
would not stand up to the corrupt
President of the United States.
“What if I can find thirty
Republicans with integrity?”
And the Lord God said to
the Senate Majority Leader,
“Show me thirty Republicans
of integrity in the senate and I
will refrain from raining down
my wrath upon the senate,”
and the leader couldn’t find
thirty. The leader said, “What
about twenty?” The Lord God
said, “Show me twenty Republic-
ans of integrity in the senate and
I will refrain from my judgment
upon the senate,” and the leader
couldn’t find twenty nor ten nor
five and then the Lord God, in
great graciousness and much
frustration, said, “Show me just
one senate Republican of integrity
and I will save the senate from
my wrath,” and the majority
leader, more like a hare than
a tortoise, hightailed it back
on a fast track to the Kentucky
*with apologies to the account
of Abraham’s intercession on
behalf of Sodom (Genesis 18:
Betwixt and between
is how he sees Holy Week and Halloween.
He’s too old for a mask
but for candy loves to ask.
For Holy Week, it’s the same.
Some he likes, some he disdains.
He’s got things backwards
even, sometimes, a lack of words
to describe how he feels
why some don’t and some do appeal.
He likes the somber and morose
more than Easter’s hearty toast.
Ironically, an extrovert who likes it quiet
rather than the hyped-up riot:
“He is RISEN!”
and the raucous response,
“He is risen INDEED!”
sounds more like a cheerleader’s shout
than a profoundly affirmative creed.
He would rather just sit in quiet gratitude
with no detectable attitude,
so maybe he’s more
a Holy Saturday guy
than in Easter’s exuberance fly.
He’s just thankful
not to be left in the tomb
and happy to be emerging from the womb,
born again of the spirit to catch his breath
and begin to wave farewell
to the sting of death.
the love of money is the root of all evil….
The covetous acquisition of money leads to
which leads to power,
which leads to violence,
which leads to death.
The love of money is the root of all evil…