Labor Day

The fact that we can rest today
We owe to those who came before;
They waged a thankless,  brutal war
And struck, forgoing work and pay
To change the world and have their say,
Demanding to be treated more
Like people. They kicked down the door
Enduring hardship on the way
So we as well as they could be
Our better selves: free to pursue
Something beyond the drudge of sweat;
To meet the world with dignity
Doing the things we want to do.
We celebrate; but don't forget.

Second River

Without you I slide back into my youth
Acting like the boy I used to be.
To some this might seem pleasant--and in truth,
I have but little shame of younger me.
I have no deep-born angst of older days
That traumatizes when I visit it,
Nor any huge distaste for my past ways:
The shirts I used to wear still even fit,
And I was happy being me. And yet.
And yet I long to be right back with you
To leave my past life where the sun has set
And live the life that we have wrought anew.
I do not miss the boy I was before:
I liked myself, but I like us much more.

Shapes

I miss you not like oxygen or water
(I will not die if you're removed from me)
But like an otter needs another otter
Floating hand in hand across the sea;
Like riverbends need banks to keep their course
Shaping each other over centuries;
Like Scottish oaks bent by an unseen force
Along a cliff swept by a constant breeze.
I miss you in a dark eternal way
That lingers underneath the skin, and itches;
Like stages miss the presence of a play
Or cut quilt cloth the immanence of stitches:
I don't know how to do this without you.
It's fortunate I'm not required to.

Slow

I cannot process what I cannot think
I cannot think what I cannot believe
The world around me seems upon the brink
Yet I must focus inward still, and grieve.
The emptiness inside me leaves no room
For all the outward griefs that press me in
My inner struggle with my private gloom
Leaves me nowhere to possibly begin
To think about the rest. Within my heart
There is sufficient chaos to contain
I can't ignore the world, but for my part
I must address this first, more local pain.
To heal is slow; no virtue lies in speed
But in the meeting of each moment's need.

Flight

Imagine if you will a vast expanse
(And if you won't, well we can just stop here)
Through which the wind upon an endless dance
Whips back and forth (you do not need to fear:
Imagination will not make it so).
Imagine further, birds within the breeze
Who waft upon it circlingly slow.
Would you prefer to fly with them (now, please
Just bear with me) or walk along the plain
Watching them high above? I think that I
(And you are free to treat this with disdain)
For all that I would love, in dreams, to fly
Would rather watch (Agree or disagree?)
Admiring them floating over me.

Through

At times like these the words refuse to come.
I find I cannot write; I cannot think.
My mind is full of an insistent hum
That drowns me out. I think I need a drink.
But drinking wouldn't help me through it all;
It would just drown out pain with other pain.
I need to do more now than simply stall;
I have to find an outlet for this strain.
Lying awake will bring to me no rest
Wracking my brain will only lead to sorrow
I have no strength to do what I do best
But I can hope that I will have tomorrow:
Although I'm hardly sure what I should do
I'm certain that the only out is through.

Whiz

Do not imagine how it ought to be
Except to help you manage how it is.
That's not to say don't wish, don't hope, don't see
The better world: the cheese to our cheese whiz.
But to insist the cheese whiz you possess
Is edible, and still a tasty treat.
It will not help to whinily obsess
Upon the cheese you wish you had to eat.
Plan shopping better in the future? Sure!
Feel free to keep your fridge stocked up with cheese
But while you do that, do not then demure
From letting what you have right now still please.
The aging cheddar of a brighter day
Should not destroy the pleasure of cheese spray.

Union

We cannot grow our worlds in petri dishes
Each individual and set apart.
No more can we determine them by wishes
As needs no telling to a broken heart.
We live together in a common space
A culture we both constitute and share
(Although it would be false upon the face
To claim we all are thus made equal there).
Within this common world, make common cause
For only we together can make change:
Our social rules are not eternal laws
And though mere wishes may not rearrange
Our world, collective common action can
And has, since first this common world began.

Relative Rights

If you want to be a cop

You have to be the bigger man

(Even at a traffic stop).

You take risks so others can

Enjoy their life and liberty;

Which means you do not get to claim

Your own safety's supremacy

Above the public's. Oh, for shame!

To say your fear lets you deprive

Another's rights, or shoot to kill

When you have promised all to strive

For their protection, come what will.

Your honor comes precisely from

Defending them and their freedom.

Calvin and Hobbesism

My dog, I fear, is not of the elect.
Not that she lacks good works (although she does)
For those who value them are not correct
False as the famed Iscariot once was
But rather for her failure (evermore)
To show contrition. A remorseful heart,
Aware of sin, and with that sin selfsore,
Not fearful of the danger or the smart,
But truly inward full of vital grace
Would be sufficient, but it is not there.
She has no sorrow in her inward place
And only cringes from a sudden scare.
Therefore, although a wonderful playmate
I know my dog to be a reprobate.