The Second Inquisition

The Second Inquisition

Before there was thought, there was God.
Before the beginning there was God
Superstition, Magic, and God.

God in all shapes and sizes.
The alternative to science and tears.
If there is no answer.... it must be God.

In all things, at all times, there is God.
Our strength and frailty,
Success and failure are from God.
Morality, beauty and love are from God.

Does not God choose
Who dies and joins God,
Who lives and must wait for God?

If the victor feels Gods embrace,
What of the runner who places second?
What of the infant, victim of an
Anti-personnel weapon?

If the ultimate singularity is God
Does evil spring from God?
If not, can evil exist?
If there is no evil can there be good?

The Lake

A square ungainly pontoon boat
Moves quietly off the floating dock
Into the afternoon sun
Joining a haphazard flotilla enjoying a last Saturday
Before the high lake surrenders to winter’s foreclosure.

A light breeze invites a gentle chop
As we navigate the small lakes perimeter.
There is something of a French impressionists painting
In the ease and comfort of our progress.
We occasionally nod, an adults passive salute,
To others similarly occupied.

Norfolk pines climb the surrounding hills,
Their scent settles on the water.
Beyond those hills
Blackened mountainsides bear witness to last year’s fires.

If we could hold firmly to the lake,
And the safety and grace this afternoon brings,
We would stay here forever.

Acapulco

In a looking glass we can catch
A distorted vision of natives selling shiny objects
In exchange for survival.
They do not swarm and drive us into the sea.

Acapulco is rich in tourists and hope.
Young couples avoid endless procreation,
But wish rather to share in the prosperity.

Ten miles of sand, smooth, and fine,
Pristine in the first eastern light, but not deserted.
High rise hotels and condominiums
Hover like vultures at the beach edges,
Strain to devour the ocean view,
Vie for more of the preeminent panorama,

We dance and dine,
A week of epicurean delights should
Produce more guilt than I can bear,
But I seem to be managing.

Rhoda

Not talking about her death.
Rhoda & I spoke of changes.
Her young sons, Fords forgiveness of Nixon,
The tragedy called Vietnam.

Elliott died of cancer 10 years earlier,
Rhoda was expected to follow
Before Summer gave way to Fall.
Long before her 32nd birthday.

There must have been anger and fear.
If so, they were prohibited from that time and place.
Though only 4 years my senior
I viewed her more as an aunt then a friend.

But on that day,
She allowed me to be her friend,
Someone who had stopped by
To say “Hello”, but meant “Goodbye”.

No tears. Sitting in the small living room,
In Dark brown armchairs on that late afternoon,
Comfortably ignoring the sand
Leaving her life’s hour glass.


Idiot words, that I could not speak,
Never demanded audience.
I was grateful then
And remain so 40 years later.

Justice by Deconstruction

Pictures of the lovely children
On their first birthday... priceless
What could compare ? Who shall set a value?
Perhaps the same 12 fools.

Her wedding gown in for dry-cleaning
Stolen in the robbery.
Surely the loss far exceeded the $3000. cost.
Indeed the money could never be enough.

How, the plaintiff's attorney asked,
Could there be enough money to assauge the loss,
Hours, days, weeks spent shopping,
Now the beautiful garment was gone.

Memories of the glorious night,
Gone without the magic gown.
How could the marriage survive?
What of the unborn children?

Yes, there were the pictures and video,
But only a philistine would think
Such synthetic images could
Hope to mitigate the damage.

No! Certainly the emotional distress
Caused by the loss would never completely heal.
Obviously, a superior security system,
That included “armed” response, should have been in place.

Now the 12 jurors will value the priceless,
Teach that Dry-Cleaner he must pay for this outrage,
Repent!
And ease the suffering of the lawyer bride.