United States

Swing State

My state of mind,

I find,

swings between

despair 

and hope,

repair 

and NOPE—

I will never

submit

to THAT

which I know

to be

evil

and cynical

and also

cyclical

in the story

of people.

My apology

to history,

the people

who endured

before me,

as I blindly

thought

I was taught

that we are

always advancing.

And yet,

pendula 

swing;

never still,

as people

will

always

want 

change

and security.

In my immaturity,

I believed

I was conceived

in a world

so naive,

and that each 

generation

has more 

sophistication.

Survival

of the fittest

survives

the silliest

interpretation,

as though

those

who perished

in concentration

camps

or gulags

or at the hands

of thugs

anywhere

at anytime

were somehow

not clever

enough

or sufficiently

strong.

I was wrong.

How many

martyrs

have been made

of great

men

and the unknown

women

whose notions

caused commotions

and retreat

from promotions

of freedoms

barely perceptible,

held unacceptable,

untenable,

and therefore,

killed?

My current

state

of anxiety

swings

wildly

from hour

to hour,

fearing our

future,

and lamenting

our past.

History

has given

us everything,

and we are

swinging

at curve balls

and striking 

out.

This one

feels like

we might

swing

and miss.

and kiss

the whole

game 

goodbye. 

But as I

have stated

before,

I can’t ignore

the strategy

of hate

and fear,

for some,

a career,

so easy

to fall 

prey.

Election Day

feels so 

consequential;

even existential,

but life

will not 

suddenly

stop.

We may

enter

a new 

swing state

that may

bring

a slate

of new

legislation.

But like

millions

before

us,

who wouldn’t

ignore 

us,

they too

maintained

ideas

of progression

from which

each digression

when the pendulum

swings back,

feels like history

is pale

by comparison.

Yet the rhymes

or echoes

swinging

back

and forth

bring forth

for me

all of history;

not just

the infamous,

but the anonymous

people

who stood

for goodness

sakes

even when

the stakes

were life

and death.

For all 

the difference

tomorrow

will make,

for the sake

of those

I will never

meet,

I will treat

this state

of swinging

from or 

toward

something

familiar

or untoward

as an imperative

for a  more

creative

and inclusive

way to live.

MSG

In The Garden,

The Paradise

lost,

the cost

of democracy

too great,

hate

was cherished

as the climate

perished; 

slashing

and burning

while feeding

the yearning

for owning

the Libs.

And the actual

owners

of the factual

papers

in DC

and LA

chose not

to say

whom they

endorse-

another coarse

event

in this course

of events:

a course

on what

prevents

democracies

from thriving.

The striving,

conniving,

and disdain

reign

freely,

while the wealthy-

greedy

are the most

needy

in their

reality.

The love

of fear,

hate,

and retribution

was considered

contribution

in The Garden

event.

I’m spent,

yet must

invent

ways 

to circumvent

the craze

over the next

several

days,

and the after-

math,

despite

the math,

of election night.

It’s the fright

in sight,

or that

I can 

envision,

that the division

so heinous

and obvious

that the rest

of us

feel helpless

after 

having voted,

is like 

living

inside

a loaded

gun.

But that’s

what’s 

fun

if you’re

one

of the MAGA

dramarama.

The MSG
was hopefully

too hyper

tensive

and unhealthy

for a majority

of Americans.

The shenanigans

are still

serious,

as those

delirious

pursue

the view

that a new

America

is overdue,

which looks

white

and pregnant.

None of it

is funny

or sunny

in that 

Garden

of evil

that they

say is 

good.

But we 

should not

let their love

of fear

be ours too.

The MSG
additive,

so addictive,

is the loathing

and fear

and simple

smear

that requires

merely

hate.

I will not

satiate

myself

with bottom

shelf

MSG

only

to feel

hungry

for more.

The legacy

you leave

is not

your blame,

but your

love

and care;

and that

you dared

to not 

despair,

but insist

we repair

with love

above

all else. 

Who’s Your Daddy?

EEEWWWWWW!!!

It never occurred

to me 

that JD

could be

out-creeped

by any peep,

but alas,

the ginormous ass

Tucker,

that Mother

F-(rhymes with Tucker),

actually 

compared a family

dynamic

(that in the Menendez

home

became tragic)

to our national

politic.

“There has to be

a point at which

Dad comes home.”

“…you know what

he says? You’ve

been a bad little 

girl

and you’re getting

a vigorous spanking

right now.” 

He continued 

his tale

of the ultimate

male

behavior as

somehow

the savior

of the American

family

by punishing

THE BAD
GIRL,

who would be

the rest of the

country.

There’s much

to unpack

in this brand

spanking

new view

of the old

guard.

For many,

any 

insult

from the 

cult 

of MAGA

is the result

of a drama

between

masculine

and feminine,

in a particular

play

performed

a certain

way,

except 

if born

otherwise,

or seen

as a 

disguise

from

some ideal

gender

form.

The threats

seem to

be most

offensive

when a male

adopts

culturally

female

props

and dispositions,

with little

care

for the reverse,

other than

regarding 

as perverse,

in their

perverted

ethos.

So little girls

and child bearing 

age 

young women,

and women

post-menopause

are somehow

the cause

of the hell-scape

where

the only 

escape

is violent

punishment

or imprisonment?

Other than

the immigrant,

of course,

the (liberated) female

is the source

of problems.

No need

to make

room

for Daddy’s

protection

or direction.

This election

could be

an inflection

in our democracy.

Remember 

Puff Daddy

who became

P. Diddy,

then

DIddy,

now back to

Sean Combs,

now

awaiting trial

for sexual

assault?

Me too.

So few

women 

have proven

to actually

be

as problematic

compared to

the autocratic,

fascistic

tendency

in the patriarchy

that gives

the finger

to Lady Liberty.

I am not

worried

that Daddy’s 

coming home.

I think 

the chickens

will.

Wearing Protection

The incel

in distress

gave an address

at a rally

where his

success

is based

on protection.

I know

it’s exhausting

and costing 

us 

too much,

but such

idiocy

and hypocrisy

will always be

counter

to progress,

much less

security.

And he’s 

still a ridiculous

threat 

to be taken

seriously.

The involuntary

celibate

celebrates 

a masculinity

that is 

abundantly

toxic.

And those

who are

satisfied

with their

stride

(or hide

their shame

and enjoy

the blame

game)

somehow

or other

feel

power

in their

projection

of the need

for protection.

Trump 

has always

been protected

and protects

no one,

of course,

but Trump.

And on 

the stump 

he told women

he’ll “be

your protector”

and they will

“no longer be

thinking about 

abortion”

if he’s elected

in November. 

First of all,

EEEEEEWWWWWW.

The Chief Creep

in deep

doo-doo

wants you

(whoever you 

are

if you are 

in his

audience)

to protect him.

He’s protected

by money

and cheating

which he calls

winning.

So changing

the rules

at the 5 yard

line,

and changing

the refs

and point

values,

is clever

though never

done

by decent

people.

If you can’t

beat ‘em,

cheat ‘em.

And in another

lame

attempt

with contempt

toward women,

Bernie Moreno

senate 

candidate

in Ohio,

amused that

abortion isn’t

an issue

for women

past 50:
“It’s a little crazy

by the way,

but—

especially 

for women

that are like

past 50.”

(heheheheheh…

because,

who cares,

if you can’t

get pregnant?)

It all sounds

too dumb

that we 

become numb,

but I ask you

not to succumb

to weariness

and to do

something 

instead.

Go ahead

and go to

app.oath.vote

to maximize

your impact

and protect

what matters

most

for us.

I don’t get

anything 

from this 

suggestion

other than

protection 

from what 

used to be

the GOP.

All this is tiring,

I know,

but wearing

us down

is what 

that sick clown

has to offer.

Disseminating

your contribution

all at once

to the races

most impacted

is a practical

and tactical

way

to responsibly

counter

their endlessly

offensive

and dangerous

attempts

to over

power.

Check out

https://app.oath.vote/set?p=top-issues

and give

what you can.

They’ll

need more

protection

than

they think.

Down The Escalator

Going down 

that escalator

path

of wrath

for 

more

than three

races,

he faces

his face

downward

or straight

with hate

and a spate

of lies—

not falsehoods

or inaccuracies—

but strategies

to change

the conversation

from observation

to obfuscation

and creating

doubt. 

He is uninhibited

with his unlimited

attempt

to stir contempt

while we wait

for him

and them

to hit bottom.

Infinity 

is not divinity.

It is endless

mess

that humans

address

throughout

history.

We think

we 

know now

how 

and why

and so

deny

that humans

will always 

try

to win.

Actual success

reveals

progress,

which to me

feels

like liberation.

Freedom from

oppression

and freedom 

to pursue

without 

harm,

a charming

thought

that ought

to be

easy

in a democracy,

but we know

it’s not so.

Of course

definitions

in opposition

make interpretation

a contest.

But why debate

when it’s 

so easy 

to escalate

hate

going 

ever 

lower?

Taking down

The Escalator

means taking

The Elevator

up to

new

heights.

It’s in our

sights,

despite

the polls

and trolls.

The Escalators

are always 

brought down

by taking

The Elevators 

up.

The Elevator

defies

gravity,

and denies

the depravity

that The Escalator

exudes.

Choose 

the Elevator.

The Escalator

must lose

or he’ll

abuse 

what he can

taking us down

with him.

(** I know 

I’ve used

this metaphor

of The Escalator

before,

but now’s

the time

for action.

Elevate 

your conversation,

participation,

and donation

in preparation

for election day.)

The Weak That Was

Loud and

pre-ashamed

he claimed

that if he 

doesn’t

win

the election,

the “jewish people”

will bear

a lot 

of the blame.

And to whom

was Trump

addressing?

If you’re guessing

not Jews,

you’d lose.

Because, 

when the theme

is anti-semitism,

my pessimism

resurges

as Trump’s urges,

guided by fear,

endear 

the worst

of the worst

to him.

America’ Hitler

hands littler

to supporters

than hate.

And this is 

the “great”

to make

America again.

Meanwhile,

Mark Robinson,

a North Carolinian

Republican

running for 

governor,

was exposed

as a loud

and proud

“Black Nazi”.

Not backing

down

from these 

comments

found

that he made

on 

porn 

sites 

now public.

These men

so brash

who live

in trash

talking

old tropes

to collect 

votes,

because

evil

will feel

powerful,

though

stemming

from 

defect.

The way

to protect

is to deflect

and divide

while they

try to hide

through

bluster.

They muster

the flock

chock

full of hate

claiming

to love

this country.

The strength

of power

that makes

others cower,

is always

temporary.

But successive

gains

holding the reigns

is still 

a chilling

strategy.

Pagers exploding

in Lebanon,

a coordinated

phenomenon

by Israel

to derail

Hezbollah,

weighs

heavily

internally

for so many

who want 

peace

with dignity.

And for 

the Jewish

state

of being

part of

the family

of democracy,

being Jewish

is always 

something

to distort

even to 

an audience

whose support

is needed

to win

an election.

Capital Punishment

Mourners 

will gather

as funeral

arrangements

will be

made

for those

murdered

in their

classrooms.

The injured

endured

the unthinkable,

yet 

we shoulda

thunk it 

by now.

Why give

hunting

a pass?

Like it’s not

killling?

Instilling

what values?

Pro life?

We are 

our own

weapons

of mass

destruction

as long as

obstruction

of gun safety

laws

persists.

The silence

on violence

and intolerance

beyond

thoughts

and prayers

alone

or lone

wolves

who tell

us who

they are,

is far

from who

we need

to be.

Yes, 

it’s insanity.

If we only

gather

for our own,

and our own

is like 

a clique,

we stick

to 

the residue

of this

toxic

stew,

that is literally

killing us.

I know

you know 

this.

It’s one more

once more

we shouldn’t

ignore.

But we do.

Ok, they do,

but they are

still we

and it should be

clear

by now

that this 

is how

we could

die.

Cemetery Plot

Nothing is sacred,

even for the dead,

when Trump is

found 

around

a burial ground

dedicated

to our most

profound

(s)heroes.

He knows

he chose

a hallowed place

to place 

himself

in the 

campaign race

outside the space

of the ordinary.

He went to Arlington

National Cemetery

on Monday,

the 3rd anniversary

of the attack in

Afghanistan

that killed 13

American

troops

during the disastrous

withdrawal

after all 

those years

of war.

Laying the wreath

at The Tomb

of the Unknown

Soldier,

a familiar

ceremony

at Arlington National

Cemetery,

the Trump team

was informed

by ANC staff

that only 

ANC staff

could photograph

or film in

Section 60.

But as is

his

style,

his team

also vile,

violated

rules

and decorum.

Neither the military

nor a cemetery

is suitable

for political

activity.

TFB.

The Trump staffer

verbally

and physically

abused

the ANC

employee,

and of course,

then denied

accountability.

But a Tik Tok

video

was found to show

him

in the Arlington 

section

despite

the prohibition.

When Trump

was interviewed

about what had

ensued,

he denied

knowing

anything 

about it.

He doesn’t know

the people,

or about anything

wrong-

the song

refrain

he can retain

and repeat

replete

with accordion 

hands.

That’s his tell

like a distinct

smell,

or a nose

that grows,

with each lie

proposed.

And with Trumpian

chutzpah,

blaming the media,

Vance,

ever detracting,

said,

“You guys…

you’re reacting 

like Donald Trump

filmed 

a tv commercial

at a grave site.”

He might have

stopped there,

but took

the dare

saying that

Trump was there

“providing 

emotional support.”

So should 

we be

shocked

and awed

by this event

to circumvent

a simple rule

with altercation?

It’s a new

taboo

we learn

about

each time

he flouts

then flaunts.

It haunts

me 

as much

as policy,

because

truth and

decency

must be

at the core

of who

we are

before

all else.

The Incredible Journey

That is America.

We saw 

us all

all

week.

“…the incredible journey

that is

America….”

was a 

line

from Kamala

that struck me.

It wasn’t her

historic

representation

of the first woman

also Black

and Indian.

She spoke about

what is

American.

“…the most

extraordinary

story

ever told.”

Her personal

story—

her journey—

put forth,

outlined

not a freak

of nature,

but the unique

nature

of American

life,

with freedom

to pursue

through

hard work

and talent.

While 

the rich malcontent

has us all

spent

as he 

will never

relent,

she defied

and denied

him

the DEI 

label

by turning

the table

and identified

American.

Harris

was all

business—

a north star

not just

an avatar.

And like

Amanda

Gorman

whose

gorgeous

poem

show’d ‘em

and us 

that we 

must

be worthy

of The American

Dream,

Kamala

continued

the theme,

admonishing

us all

to be worthy

of the “privilege

and pride

of being

an American”.

The other 

theme 

of the week,

it seems,

has been 

Mom.

Not just

Momala,

the nickname

for Kamala

(a name

Trump

has difficulty

saying),

but the sage

wisdom

we inherit

from our 

mothers

and of course

the other

glaring

issue

blaring

in silence

at the RNC:

Who shall

be

a mother

and how

is somehow

now

a defining

matter

despite 

being

long past

passed.

“Never 

do anything

half assed”,

Harris said

quoting her

mother,

and “Don’t

be limited

by what

has always

been.”

A wise

woman

was 

Shyamala. 

Kamala’s 

journey

toward

the presidency

seems

incredible

yet perhaps

soon

ordinary

for an extraordinary

position.

So much

has seemed 

incredible

and indelible;

even this 

joy

feels new.

But we’ve

just been

reminded

this is 

who

we are

and need 

to be:

“worthy

of the privilege

and pride

of being

an American”.

We are 

part 

of the incredible

journey

that is

America.

Thank you,

Kamala.

Pep Talks

If  Anti-MAGA

has a

new pep

in our step,

it’s due

to

a renewed

concept

of freedom.

A-list

speakers,

including

teachers—

studied

and social—

heroes

local,

political,

musical,

comical,

Legend,

and aspirational,

all inspirational,

including

Ohhhhhpraaaaah,

clad in purple.

Images

and sound

bites

from last night’s

DNC convention,

too many

to mention,

deserve attention.

I was left

with a great 

sensation

of love.

Amanda Gorman

blows me

away

every time

she finds

rhyme 

with profundity.

In her cape-like

dress

this supra-

shero

addressed

America

with her new

poem,

“This Sacred Scene”

reminding us 

to not just 

dream,

but to convene

with love:

“…We are one family regardless of religion, class, or color

for what defines a patriot is not just our love of liberty, but

our love for one another.

This is loud in our country’s call because while we all love

freedom, it is love that frees us all.

Empathy emancipates, making us greater than hate or

vanity. That is the American promise, powerful and pure.

Divided we cannot endure but united we can endeavor to

humanize our democracy and endear democracy to

humanity…

…Let us not just believe in the American dream. Let us be worthy of it.”

An exquisite

linguistic

ballet

to relay

the connection

between

freedom

and love.

It was so 

far above

what we’ve

been living

or dreaming.

So many

great speakers

in unique 

ways,

teachers,

leading up

to the VP

nominee.

Walz radiates

joy

and common

sense

without pretense

but with 

the essence

of decency:

being neighborly;

friendly

with competency.

And let me say,

he makes it all

FUN.

Overcome

with emotion,

Tim Walz’s

son

wept

when his dad

came to accept

the nomination.

Who couldn’t

love

the love

so prominent

and authentic?

That football

team

with guts

a plenty,

the COACH
chants,

and the chance

to feel

free,

makes the prospect

to elect

the Harris and Walz

team

seem like

a labor

of love.

Because love

was revealed

to be concealed

by fear

and anger.

Peppered

with love

and joy

and fun,

we can

keep the momentum;

keep Trump

on the run.

Rededicated,

reactivated,

resuscitated

are we

to actually 

do

and be

democracy.