Generational Ideals

Cannon

My grandfather was a share-cropper
Working someone else’s land
My father and uncles worked in industry
Making machines run for corporations
My brothers are tradesmen
Creating things of wood and stone and metal and plastic
I was and am a servant of the state
A manager of programs and a leader of troops
Making plans and enforcing policies that are not my own
I’m also an academic
Writing papers to influence others
Or to teach them the things I know
But I can not shake the feeling that
Despite better compensation
Each of the generations
Have moved farther from truth
For thought it may not carry much honor
In this modern age we live in
There is something honest and basic
That can only be found
Through working in the soil.

Cause and Effect

Cannon

No single drop of rain

Flooded out the dam,

Nor solitary driver

Created the traffic jam.

No weightless mountain snowflake,

Drifting on the breeze,

Caused the massive avalanche

That buried buildings and trees.

The stinging of a single fire ant

Though painful, heals quite fast,

But if a couple hundred sting you

You’ll likely breathe your last.

So it is in all endeavors

Both extraordinary and mundane

Moderation in our actions

Saves us suffering and pain.

And yet in the world of politics

It seems that time and again

Nations swing from left to right

Because someone has to win.

To capture minds and funding

Politicians talk in extremes,

When an introspective milk-toast moderation

Would be the governance of dreams.

My First Car 74/ 88/ 21

Bryan Batson

An Olds 88 from Seventy-four

Passed into my life in Eighty-seven,

A massive chunk of metal-

Pale blue and rusty.

You could see the road passing underneath

If you knew where to look.

Just 300 dollars, that I worked for all summer

Made that beat-up, used-up, beauty all mine.

Little did I know that at eight miles to the gallon

The beast would constantly need to be fed.

For two wonderful years,

She devoured every dollar that I made.

I was addicted to the highways and byways

Rolling through the hills and the pine forests-

Trying to find my place in the world!

They no longer make cars so simple,

With room to climb into the engine compartment,

To build relationships with machinery,

To tinker, refine and supe up.

New cars go to surgical shops with screens,

Get hooked up to computers for digital diagnostics-

Complexity beyond the ability found in the shade tree mechanic.

I learned so much from my old pale blue lady,

Not just about cars but also people and Love.

For a couple of years, I knew true freedom,

Filled with wanderlust and blessed with a full tank of gas-

Alone on the road with worn out tires with no particular place to go.

When I was a young man, cock sure of myself,

The political system seamed a lot like that old car-

Big and clunky, not very efficient, powerful and free.

Politics still reminds me of that old car- metal fatigued and rusted,

Sitting somewhere in a salvage yard, awaiting recycling.

Though I’ve moved on and stayed with the times,

I’m not sure I’m better off with the new models,

All the gadgets and progress crammed under the hood,

Inevitably drives the cost and complexity of ownership up.

So that the average person,

Has no means to manage how the engine runs.

Somewhere along the way between seventeen and fifty,

I traded the freedom of a wild, inefficient beast,

For modern computer-controlled efficiency and luxury.

Despite the comfort and power, the safety and style,

I still long for the days when people could crawl

Into the engine compartment

And actually change the way

That their government ran.

The Bureaucrat’s Carol

xmas tree
Spreadsheets and paperwork
all done up in care
Wrapped up next year’s budget
in amazing detail
 
It’s time to report
that all is quite well
I’ve jolly support
and am gladdened to tell:
 
I’ll issue a Merry Christmas
I’ll issue a Merry Christmas
I’ll issue a Merry Christmas
and a Happy New Year!
 
All properly done in triplicate form
1999-XMAS-9-OPM (modified)
You’re entitled by law to a modicum of cheer
we’ll assign you a relatively good New Year
 
We’re closing the office and
locking the door
I think there’s a shutdown
and can’t disclose more
 
But…
 
I’ll issue a Merry Christmas
I’ll issue a Merry Christmas
I’ll issue a Merry Christmas
and a Happy New Year!

Humanity (choose your own adventure)

Rescue

Can we reach our better side
bringing hard work to new visions
or are we only fight or flight?

Thoughts and prayers sent up the flue
papering over our divisions
all the hate we thought was through

We are made of contradiction
making peace is part of us
but fighting wars is our tradition

We are conflicted, we are still one
a little hope would be a plus
it seems so long ere the day is done

We can act with malice and spite
or press forgiveness to our hearts
fighting upwards to the light

Isolation in a divided nation
our brains are made for social smarts
stewing in our own frustration

All alone in our four walls
will our future be secure
drifting sadly through drafty halls

Turn to the very last page
willful pique or mindless cure
will it be peace or curdled rage?