Posted in In my humble opinion..., Unanswered Questions

Unanswered Question: Why do we keep lying to ourselves?

I saw a post and only read two lines of the poem.
The image of George Floyd was clearly displayed at the top of the page.
The poem spoke of “slave ships”.
That was enough for me.
The death of George Floyd was tragic on so many levels but the stubborn adherence to the idea that it had anything to with race is absurd. What that mindset does is perpetuate a myth, a political flashpoint, and a lie.
Derrick Shovan was a terrible, barbaric, man and cop.
George Floyd was a drug addict, repeat criminal, and misguided soul.
We could investigate all day long the ‘whats and whys’ that made them each that way, but that’s not the point.
Something terribly tragic happened and we’re not placing the blame on ‘what happened next’ where it belongs.
Both men had culpability in the route they took to that place and time of Floyd’s death, yet their race wasn’t deemed, even in court, as having an influence.
So, why do we keep lying to ourselves?
Why is George Floyd a folk hero?
How does his life and death have anything to do with slave ships?
Derrick and George were already known to each other.
No ‘hate crime’ allegation was pursued in Derrick’s trial. Because race was NOT a factor. (He was a real ‘rotten egg’ and got what he deserved.)
Race hustlers came rushing out of the woodwork, though. Some for financial gain (BLM organizers) and others for political leverage (BLM self-proclaimed Marxists, among others). Both types should have been recognized as and declared opportunists immediately.
That’s why the riots, marches, and continued mythology over George Floyd are so baffling and IMHO are symptomatic of even darker ills than a would-be individual act of racism.
Those most desperate ubiquitous illnesses are victimhood, ignorance, and-bias inspired- gullibility.
The clear perpetrators of those crippling diseases are the media, our educational system, and political activists. If you want something ‘real‘ to be outraged about, their accountability isn’t even going to be EVER considered. The avoidable death and destruction in the aftermath will go on being falsely labeled a noble crusade. Instead, the misnomer of “systematic racism” (in this specific case) will continue to destroy our harmony, unity, and sense of justice. We will therefore go on being victimized and consumed by ‘lies’, half-truths, and narrative manipulations, until the nefarious goal of dehumanizing and dividing our country for the purpose of totalitarian control, is achieved.
Don’t play a role in it by not getting your facts straight.

Posted in Writing Prompts

Simply 6-Minutes- 2/21/23 The Big Picture

Our challenge is to write a story by interpreting the photo below in only six minutes.

Pablo was tired of his grandfather’s constant reminder to look at something called “The Big Picture”. He was always so DARN positive!
It was foolish and old fashioned and, frankly, meant nothing to him.
Pablo had worries galore.
“Where would he get a new plow?”
“When would his son be old enough to help with chores?”
“Why didn’t the weather cooperate with his farming timeline?”
One day, news of his neighbor’s son being killed in a freak accident brought him to his knees.
Pablo was devastated for his neighbor and, of course, offered him his assistance with his farm in addition to his own duties.
He sat overwhelmed with his workload and placed his face in his hands.
Suddenly, his 5-year-old son grabbed him around the neck and kissed him on the cheek offering comfort to his distraught Dad.

And that’s when Pablo knew, for the first time, what his grandfather had always meant.

Posted in Words 'n' such Poetry

dVerse Poets Pub~ Exploring the Narrative

The challenge is to write a poem in the voice of a fictional character. It can be any character you like, and you can introduce it in your own voice if you choose (à la Coleridge, though I certainly wouldn’t insist on this) but the main body of the poem must be in the voice of your character.

Life Interrupted

It was hoped-expected- that sons out-live their fathers .
The flashing red lights blinked a desperate scene;
A medic kneeling with trembling hands beside a victim.
On the lawn, lay a young man unresponsive, serene.

“Narcan administered. Checking for the pulse.”
A tsunami of regrets dripping from my chin,
“Danny, wake up! Do it now! It’s Dad.”
I must be professional… panic must not win.

“When had Danny given up?” my brain implored.
“My fault? My fault!” a guardian guilt searched.
A young man gurgled a faint response… one cough.
“Got a pulse!” and the body insulted- disturbed- lurched.

“He’s back.” hands wiping tears, “I’m ready.”
Our chance, a grace of future, better choices.
We lifted the stretcher with my boy, my lucky son,
This out-of-body witness to cataclysmic voices.

Could I muffle the drumbeat defiling manhood,
Unnatural messages invading the viable you?
I would sweep them from a culture proposing
Your value has a color, and shame, this I’d undo!

Good folks, yes many, hold wreckage from nihilism.
Ravaged nests with too many ghosts of innocent ones.
” You’re okay, Dan Man.” the strong, crumbling, EMT whispers,
All fathers refuse to out-live their sons.

If you’d enjoy reading what some excellent poets created from the prompt, click the link immediately below.

Poetics: Exploring the Narrative Voice | dVerse (

Posted in Book Reviews

Book Review: Crow Lake

I just read a book that I want to recommend very highly. Usually, I take an exception to foul language, unbelievable characters or a message that is not my own.

None of those apply with Crow Lake.

The reverence for a rural life, the comfort that can be found when one embraces a love of learning, and the possibilities for triumph over tragedy, are poignantly clear in this story. It also taught me that strength and success can take many shapes and come from unlikely places. Mary Lawson‘s description of the emotional effect of tragedy upon children was outstanding. Her story, about the unfairness of circumstance, a reminder to us all that good people can make all the difference.

If you are in awe of Nature…this book is also “right up your alley”.

This poster sums up the book better than I.

Posted in Words 'n' such Poetry

Of Moutains and Valleys

Mountains we climb

Life’s trials each day.

Takes only one moment

To sweep us away.

In one tragic instant

Our viewpoint contrasts.

All enter this valley…

Fragile peaks never last.

The fabric of our being

Held together, threads of joy,

Never is a silken path,

More like corduroy .





Monday Potluck Poetry:

Beaches and Mountains