They dismissively state
That peace and love
Are dead,
Were never a reality,
But I know otherwise
Because I see all the
Wonderful things
People do for each other
And the great reservoir of
Kindness that exists
Inside each of us,
Ready to be shared
With our fellow
Human beings,
Building a caring world
Together.
A frightening sameness
To their looks,
Their words,
Their beliefs,
Their passions,
Their ends.
Marching in lockstep
To some concocted lore
About superiority and
Unparalleled greatness,
And the wretchedness
Of their enemy,
There always has to be
An enemy to rally against.
Their inner bonfires
Precursors to the
Inevitable conflagration.
You’re great,
No, you’re great,
I’m great,
That’s right,
You are great,
We’re all great,
All on the same
Level, we recognize
Each other and are
Comfortable,
All broken.
He promoted himself as
An enlightened, educated,
Open-minded gentleman
Who could analyze
A thorny situation and
Deliver an even-handed
Verdict on what was
Really going on and
How it might be handled.
He presented himself as
A wise individual with the
Ability to understand the
World from a variety of
Perspectives, as long
As his proclamations
Were not challenged
In any way and nobody
Pointed out his bigotry.
One small action
That makes a difference
In someone else’s life,
A smile,
Reassuring word,
Listening ear,
Sympathetic heart,
Rippling through the cosmos,
As love does,
Gentle, peaceful gestures
Building upon themselves,
Transforming the landscape.
How to be kind?
The answer is inside you.
So, anyway,
That’s it.
After so many years
It all comes to
An inauspicious end.
No fanfare,
Just unvarnished
Termination.
Hard to
Believe.
He spent his life
Carefully crafting a
Public persona of
Authoritative confidence.
He failed,
Instead producing a
Knot of blemishes
And insecurities.
All he had heard
His whole life
Is how bad he was
And how he would
Never amount to anything,
Until one person came along
And showed him that
There was more to life,
That words didn’t have to hurt,
A wonderful new world of
Love and kindness
Unfolded before him,
Renewing his spirit and
His belief in himself.
Walking through the city,
He sees the transition
From shiny skyscrapers,
Elegant apartments,
And stately homes,
To the buildings
Fraying at the edges,
Unmaintained for
Lack of resources,
People hanging on
For mere survival.
He wonders where
It is written that
A few should prosper
At the expense
Of so many,
Why a minority who,
But for chance,
Would be like anyone else,
Struggling to make a living,
Should amass obscene wealth
And leave everyone else
To fight for the scraps,
Somewhere else,
Out of sight.
She cries at the
Most trivial moments,
Everyone around her
Notices that it
Doesn’t quite fit
With what’s really
Going on at the time,
Memories of the
Anguish she felt as
A child bubble up
Relentlessly,
Unacknowledged,
Unattended.
She lives this way
Her entire life,
It colors her
Worldview deeply.
Tears well up in his eyes,
Not for reasons pure.
Visible to all but the unreceptive,
A lifetime of indulgence.
Some shout at the top of their lungs,
Nothing to see here.
The boys’ club furiously
Protecting its own.
Nothing will stop them,
There’s power at stake.
Arrogance in the face of truth,
Bristling when discovered.
No justice will be done today,
Nor ever from this cabal.
An old photograph reminds
Him of when he cared way too
Much about what other people
Thought about him.
He smiles, remembering
Those directionless days when
He didn’t realize
That there was much more to
Aspire to than
The clothes he wore,
Car he drove,
Area he lived in,
Friends he had, or whatever
Superficial image he
Was trying to project.
Many years have passed and
He has put very little work
Into growing,
Still trying to catch the eye of
Anyone looking his way,
Dazzle them with his superficiality.
One small action,
A smile,
Hug,
Word of encouragement,
Helping hand,
Can change everything,
Gentle ripples of
Kindness,
Love,
Healing the world,
Changing
The course of history,
Humanity.
Such a nice boy,
Subjected to constant
Suppression and domination
Over so many years.
His hopefulness fractures,
He loses his ability to
Feel for himself or others
And becomes what he
Swore he never would.
When there is
A profit motive,
We endure
Permanent war,
More people rot
In prison longer,
Vital services are
Slashed to cut costs,
Regulations are ignored,
Altruism is kicked
In the face,
General well-being
Is sacrificed to
Line a few
Avaricious pockets,
Corruption and cronyism
Are the norm,
Everything becomes
More expensive.
Thinking punitively,
That’s all she knows,
All actions directed
At protecting the
Tenuous sense of
Safety she struggles
Mightily to maintain,
Everything is
A possible attacker
Who must be
Defended against.
She manages to
Consistently err on
The side of overreaction,
Striking preemptively
Instead of offering
The benefit of the doubt
Or some semblance
Of kindness, trust.
Quaint cottage on
A towering cliff,
Small garden,
A single tree,
Having coffee together
Looking out the window.
She leaves and is
Never seen again.
Nobody talks about it
But they’re pretty
Sure what happened.
Each day much the same
As the last, continuous
Small victories culminating
In something yet to be
Revealed. Unable to see
Anything beyond the maze,
Unconcerned, peaceful, calm,
Confidence of purpose,
The knowledge that
Everything will be okay
On this path.
Unconsciously following
What he thinks is his brain
But is really just the
Manifestation of hurts
Wedged in there by people
Who meant well but didn’t
Have a clue what it was
To help a human being
Become whole rather than
An animate patchwork.
You, lovely people,
Surfing the web
Late at night,
Or during the day,
Or anytime at all,
For any reason,
On any device,
Rest assured that
We’re taking good
Care of you.
We have a record
Of everything you’re
Doing on there,
And you can trust us
To not use it in
Any weird way.
Please remember we’re
Only doing this for
Your own good,
Because the world is
So scary and we
Have to keep you safe
From our conveniently
Fabricated threats.
If there is a path to kindness,
They will find a way to
Destroy it. If something
Can be done to make others’
Lives easier, It will be ignored.
When someone needs help, they’ll
Be sure to ignore the call,
Blame the victim, nothing being
More important than protecting
Their own narrow interests.
Because of the extraordinary
Pressure she had always felt
To fit in, be one of the group,
Do what was expected of her,
She questioned herself at
Every turn, wondering if her
Sense of direction was broken
While, the whole time,
Her inner compass awaited for
The day she’d decide to
Follow her own course.