His professor of speech recommended
that he become a stand-up comic but
he had a calling, a vocare; he was called
to study the word and preach the gospel
and that he did after giving his drama
classes a chance and realizing that he
didn’t have the ego strength to go the
distance. It was a godsend. This even-
ing he watched a really funny comedy
featuring a comedian who, years after
that film, committed suicide and that
was after several of the comedian’s con-
temporaries had bitten the dust with
angel dust and whatever. As he watched
the film and the really funny, now dead
comic, he gave thanks that he had gotten
the call to go sideways of the way it all
had gone down.
So I asked the backyard birds —
the nuthatches, the robins, the
blue jays, the black-capped
chickadees, the yellow finches,
the wrens, mourning doves,
cardinals, catbirds and all the
others — where all their friends
have been and they said they have
disappeared over the years and
while they miss them they don’t
miss the competition for the
food at the bird feeders. I told
them that I thought that was a
little bit cold and they just
whistled me away.
The Boomer sat on his back porch
in what is now a real-life metaphor
watching a You-Tube video of Linda
Ronstadt back in the day and
his mind drifted off to a weekend
in St. Thomas. He wandered the
back streets with sewer smells
coming up through the grates. He
stopped at a bar, sat down and
watched Linda, on the big screen
right in front of him, belting out
Buddy Holly’s “That’ll Be the Day,”
the spaghetti strap on her dress
having slipped down off her shoulder.
Now Linda can’t sing and he can’t
dance but she is still his girlfriend.
We’ve rounded up the recruits
for the cause; we have success-
fully portrayed the other as evil
and ourselves as good. We have
dehumanized those that we deem
and label the enemy and use all
kinds of scurrilous nicknames for
them to reinforce this view in the
minds of the recruits who soon will
be faithful followers and then cult
zombies for the cause which will
enable them to go on rampage after
ramage, kill, mutilate and slaughter
without a twinge of conscience and
will enable us to win a horrific,
politically motivated war and take
over control and enrich ourselves
even though we disguise this en-
deavor as a moral battle for the
soul of the nation, the world and
to secure the future of our faith.
Ravel, Debussy —
what more to say?
Such a beautiful,
deceptively simple melody —
in a subtle way.
Soft hues and bright tones,
(not unlike their visualistic
brothers and Mary Cassatt,
their visualistic sister)
sooth the soul.
I give thanks for them —
in this otherwise
disquieting civic malaise —
for uplifting my spirit today.
With a Cheshire’s grin,
the orange-toned cat
“We love our browns.
We love our blacks.
We love our reds and yellows.
We love everybody
until I get attacked.
Then watch out.
See, I’ve got serious clout.”
the very white animal farm
the cat hissed and sneered
and those watching on TV
trembled with fear.
The exiled whistle-blower said,
they are watching through our phones;
he might just as well have said,
“Big Brother is watching all our hues and tones
and we are as good as dead.”
And the state sees it as the capstone —
complete control, complete power —
the devil flew through the hands of the misguided few,
and so, a kingdom going nowhere;
is the fragile, democratic experiment through?
The spiritually inclined neuroscientist
wrestled and wrestled with resurrection —
had to face the stark reality — when
the brain is dead, that is it. There is
no coming back. So, if true, what then
is “coming back”? The disciples ex-
perienced the “coming back” of Jesus
— in a room, on the road, by the sea —
the same but different, recognizable
but ubiquitous. Is this resurrection —
coming back? Love embodied for the
sake of those on this side of life? Love
comes back and love goes forward and
so even though the brain dies and doesn’t
come back, love always does — some-
how embodied, recognizable but different —
ubiquitous — everywhere, in everyone —
The representative said, in light
of the ludicrous and dangerous
“locked and loaded” tweet, “We
don’t need Yosemite Sam,” and
she pointed her index fingers
in the air and moved her arms
up and down in a shoot ‘em up
gesture. I always liked the cartoon
character and now I feel sorry for
him having been compared to the
occupant of the oval office. Did
he just tweet back to the occupant?
“I’m a-givin’ ya one second to draw
a gun.” Did I just see a carrot top
duck under the desk? Well, I’d be
upset about an insulting comparison
like that, too.
“The only reason we don’t have a nuclear bomb
in every backyard is because you can’t build it easily.
It’s hard to get the material. ” the scientist
Well, I don’t know about every backyard, but
I’m sure there would be one or two in the
backyards of sixty-three million Americans.
Would we then have the deterrent of mutually
assured destruction or would we just have destruction?
Of the latter, we can be mutually assured.
Actually, it might just take just one clown
with the code….
Is that what has happened throughout the
universe of seemingly non-existent intelligent
They got smart enough in their perversity
to perish and obliterate their existence?
The shadow knows….