Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Political assault on the senses

Politicos are great at saying what people want to hear.
Support lower taxes? They'll find a way to throw you a bone.
Support soaking the rich? They'll agree with that, too.

They claim that up is down, and left is right,
green is red, and purple is just like white.
War is needed, and so is peace,
greed is good, but charity is nice.

Good roads and interstates are necessary,
hospitals and malls and subdivisions too;
Downtown development is a priority,
yet suburbs need improved, for me and you.
Partisanship threatens our capitalistic democracy,
the wheels of government seem locked down tight;
backroom discussions take place in the meritocracy,
Last-minute solutions are presented well past midnight.

The underneath processes seem quite confusing,
until one considers that most of these guys
attended the same ivy league institutions.
Perhaps a few pep talks from the old and wise
arrived via phone calls, while performing their ablutions...

Bills get passed, then signed, and life goes on.
People never really change; only the technology
of governing control  is different through the centuries.



-end

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Enjoy the Feast

As we prepare to cook the turkey,
ham, roast, or raccoon if that's your thing,
time to give thanks for all of our bounty.
Plenty of edibles are around in our era.

Today we message from anywhere to anywhere,
receive last-minute menu picks at the grocery store,
or just have the whole big meal delivered via
selections we made on our smartphone.

Then we sit and eat and muse on days gone by,
family get-togethers, dueling casseroles from
hardworking aunts, admonished by amused uncles.
Carsful of family going over to the relatives,
everyone chatting and greeting and snacking,
playing games in the basement – childhood dramas,
young adult revelations, new couples vibrancy all mix.

Playing pool, ping pong, or perhaps cards later on,
back then the only electronic distraction was the
corner television, tuned to Christmas programming.
“Which Scrooge is in this years' A Christmas Carol?”
someone asks. “Who cares? So-and-so was the Best scrooge,”
is the refrain, insert your favorite actor here.

Holidays are reunions and trips down memory lane,
a refresher and reminder of just why we go through
life's constant grinds. Hope to show the family something new?
Hope to show off? Hope to reconcile past affronts?
Motivations are many, but suffice it to say,
there is no place like home for celebrating the holidays.

Happy Holidays Everyone!




Tuesday, November 21, 2017

Don't forget hot e-book deals for Black Friday!

Check these out, at least:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/413457

https://www.amazon.com/Twenty-Nine-Stories-Mike-Wilson-ebook/dp/B0714D14JD


Thanks, and Happy Thanksgiving Everyone.


Monday, November 20, 2017

Sabbath Stroll (fleeing guilt gremlins)

That cut-off tree stump didn't care that
I interrupted Laura during Humanist Meetup,
the tree limb arching over the trail didn't
accuse me of slighting someone at work.

Sunshine continued to illuminate the leafy path,
throwing shadow reeds at my feet,
the breeze gently freshened the air
for my breaths, the river still glinted
reflecting multicolored hues to enjoy,
no matter what faux pas I committed
yesterday, last week or last month.

The forgiving ground yielded before my
steady footsteps, the trail unwound north,
then westerly, before turning back.
A discovery of piles of bricks, surrounded
by modern castoffs, was an interesting highlight,
taking thoughts off my blunders and errors.

The forest forgave me,
and then absorbed me
in all its subtle November
beauties, and I exited refreshed,
renewed, if a bit tired. Now,
what a perfect time for a
Sunday afternoon nap --
Next week is a clean slate.




- end


Saturday, November 18, 2017

Two led the way

They knew they were different,
in a time when such things were scorned.
Fate and chance brought them together,
One even performed surgery on the other.

The female rowing champion became a male rowing champion.
The male race-car driver became a female race-car driver.
They became pioneers in physical and mental domains:
One took his life in 1962,
the other lived all the way to 2011.

Two brave and remarkable people cleared a path
for all of the transsexual and intersex who followed.
At the height of the Cold War these stories were
front-page news, perhaps taking fearful minds off
looming Armageddon.

Religious folk may have thought the end was here indeed,
now that humans retained the ability to change their gender.
As we delve deeper into genetic tinkering it is hard to imagine
what may be on the horizon soon.
But Roberta and Michael led the way –
Legions of transitioning folk are surely glad of this today.





https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roberta_Cowell

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Dillon

read on.    



Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Republished an older title

It has a new cover and a new price.  Check it out here:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/97284

Thanks for taking a look!

Monday, November 06, 2017

9th Street North

The sharp businesswoman trots along the sidewalk,
glancing often at her phone, precious link to civilization.
A short, scruffy black man ambles in the opposite direction.
They approach, seemingly headed for a collision;
Improbably, the woman flicks a glance his way,
even as he gives her a more leisurely look.

Then she executes a perfect semicircle around him,
looking rapidly back at her phone.
Just another minor distraction,
leaf on the sidewalk, branch in the way,
paper litter drifting along,
homeless detritus a momentary
detour in one oh-so-very important life.




 - end



Now on Amazon Too!

My collection of short stories,  "29" is up on amazon, for sale in paperback or Kindle editions.

https://www.amazon.com/Twenty-Nine-Stories-Mike-Wilson-ebook/dp/B0714D14JD

Thanks for taking a look-see.

- end


Saturday, November 04, 2017

Memory rising

Hovering over the brushfire,
I add sticks and twigs.
The yard detritus piles shrink in turn  -- hooray.

The sound and smell of burning fires up memory.
Crackling reminiscent of past leaf fires in past yards;
Crumpling up newspapers to light our minor blaze,
the crinkle and crackle of logs warming our
living room during a festive holiday.
My father supervises as I get to do the honors....

Bonfires at summer camp roar impossibly high,
as lore both modern and ancient are weaved
into some tale, enrapturing all of us 13-year-olds.

The homecoming fire at High School,
guarded by two of us sleeping within,
set off the next night during celebrations.
Never had I seen a conflagration that mighty.

The beach fires on a large sandbar,
just downhill from a local retreat.
Some of us sipping brews, enjoying music,
making love and watching others do the same.
One of the very best fire memories one can have.

Memories rise up with the smoke,
are scented and enjoyed,
then vanish,
to be replaced by others.

One can only hope
that you and I
make more wonderful memories tonight,
to reminisce by at some other bonfire,
many years from now.

- end




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