The Black Mans’ Burden

Are you the brother who tried to order a sandwich from a stool at the luncheonette counter?

I don’t suppose it was your grandkid that got his fool brains blown away in Ferguson?

You don’t go to see LeBron strut his stuff, too expensive.

It’s been an uphill struggle to get to where the green lawns don’t carry messages that tell you where the servants’ entrance is.

Even today, there are those sanctimonious whip carriers, lashing you with lies that safeguard the white man’s vote.

I listened as a Georgia Cracker told of your “shorter” history as a reason for “your peoples” lack of intellectual progress.

You, whoever the hell you are, have carried my water for far too long. The price I paid and my debt to you is incalculable. I need to get off your back. It is killing both of us.

What Can I Do?

With arms bent at the elbows

And hands held in a prayerful position,

He appeared lost in a lack of choices.

What to do, what to do?

He spoke of his right to smoke

On the hotel’s balcony.

He was sympathetic to my request.

(I had my buddy, dying of cancer,

And the smoke bothered him.)

The smoker noted no open tables,

And offered “what can I do ?”

Holocaust or a Caring God?

If I were to hold God as an overwhelming force for good, I cannot but recognize his responsibility for the Holocaust. It is not that the infant who slips from his mothers’ hand is less a seemingly innocent victim. Rather the difference lies in the mass murder that ultimately cannot be philosophically laid to rest under the rubric of inexplicability. It, The Holocaust, is not without meaning. It makes a mockery of the Passover service and the tale of miracles, dessert wanderings and ultimate divine intervention.

I cannot negotiate away the killing of 6 million under the ever present thoughtful care of an All Mighty. If I am to be distracted by the possibility that we are given free choice, I must discount God. He/she/it are rendered irrelevant to mans’ journey, a mere spectator, or a hallucination.

Sunshine

A choice of friends can’t really be reduced to one word.

It is not a fully rational process.

Perhaps we choose based on 

A common belief in God or government?

At least for me

It is a matter of sunshine.

Yes, I need to be heard,

But a hug and a smile brighten my forecast.

The Walk To Hawaii

Andy and me are two years into this journey.

According to my calculations, we are still three years away,

Not including the 5-year return trip.

We may have to concede and fly back.

I measure our progress against our morning walks.

We cover about 2.5 miles 3.5 days a week.

Allowing for time away, we probably walk 150 times a year.

We travel light, no luggage and usually fair weather.

Today the ocean, our constant companion,

Broods, and reflects a gray foreboding sky.

Choppy seas, sheltered by Point Loma,

Suggest a storm further up the coast.

Visitors and locals alike

Walk the miles of uninterrupted coastline

That is Coronado’s ocean profile.

We complete our walk with coffee at the Del Coronado.

We sit on the Del’s elevated deck that overlooks the Pacific,

Passing judgment on the people walking the beach.

I offer an occasional nod, and mark my good fortune.

Oh Lord, I am insufferable

Net

Net is a useful word.

Whether we are talking business profits,

Or the ancient art of crabbing,

“Net” plays a vital role.

In Tennis, Pickle Ball or Volleyball

There is no game without a net.

Just consider the earning loss LeBron James

Would suffer if there was no net.

When we stop to consider the 82 million people

With “net” as part of their email address

We must pause and give thanks

That this three-letter word covers so much ground.

“Net” at least partially compensates for the inexhaustible

Supply of words that speak of “group”.

There is a hidden philosophical point to “net”.

I’ll get back to you when I find “it”.

The Cripple

A blue dress and white badge

Marked her as a nurse.

She was not especially self-conscious,

Pushing a wheelchair weighted

By a package that, at my distance,

Appeared to be a gray bundle of laundry.

As she moved in my direction the package

Seemed to be moving.

The gray cover did not completely

Hide the head of a severely twisted human.

His facial expression was a mix of anger,

Resignation and privilege.

He grumbled to the nurse, demanding that his doctor

Attend him immediately.

This guy’s injuries were devastating.

His twisted head rested near a crumpled right shoulder.

His  partly hidden body did not fill

The whole of the wheelchair’s seat.

A car, a land mine? Jesus, we are a stubborn species.

2nd Level

What route should I take

to maximize my chances of rising?  

Must I decide which way up is,

and how will I know if I’m on my way?

On the second level things get done,

possibly a mid-level management job?

Maybe a big raise, more time off?

Even contact with the 3^rd floor could happen!

What Happens At Three

Alessia, my favorite three year old, is usually happy,

Which does not preclude the occasional fall from grace.

This afternoon, she changed her position on swimming.

Alessia decided she did not really want to go swimming.

Her change of mind was first voiced as a mere transition.

A sort of, perhaps she’d rather not swim.

Having tasted the sound and finding it too subdued for the task,

Alessia started adding volume, and a tear.

It was not long before a parents promise,

That she would not have to swim, proved entirely inadequate.

Alessia reached full throttle hysteria; we waited for calm.

One hour later, she was reluctant to leave the pool.

Diplomacy

In growth lives vitality,

But it cannot survive without belief,

Nor will the enemies of tomorrow rest.

They endure to see yesterday become tomorrow.

Who stands with those searching in both yesterday’s cinders

And the emerging wisdom gleaned

From today’s expanded comprehension

Of what may be possible?

Will philosophy awake to the new paradigm

And add reason and sanity to the cause of tomorrow?

Or will those able thinkers persist

In holding yesterdays truth sacrosanct?

If we are to reach a place where understanding triumphs,

And trust becomes a risk well worth consideration,

Then will we not have arrived at the joining

Of diplomacy, in its many forms, with mutual respect?

I find the possibility wondrous, if improbable.

For the alternatives are tantamount to a sustained war

In which few survive and none prosper.

Had we not better unite with those searching for the improbable?