Bee balm at prairie area

Wanted: Ethics; When: NOW!

When we go to a grocery store, we show our trust in them to price their items fairly, for the most part. They run ads, and specials, posting them clearly. We can shop around and compare prices. But we trust our system that the quantities, labels and ingredients are accurate. If all of a sudden, the stores and food companies started jiggling their ingredients and amounts, and concealing this fact, people would be very upset.

But in our financial system, there seems to be a lot of jiggling going on. Rates are different, and fees are different, from company to company. Triple X points and perks are offered, with a lot of fine print underneath. Much is concealed in lengthy legal documents – documents that many know are there to tilt the playing field in favor of whoever is “disclosing” them.

Online companies can harvest masses of data and archive them many different ways. The old East German Stazi, or secret police, would salivate at the huge data collection apparatus extant in US Internet companies today. Is it ethical? Does it even matter anymore? Do we have any kind of choice? No, no, no. What a big privacy nightmare our need for online convenience has created.

Just wish this new generation would have an appreciation for ethical dealings among each other, in business or politics. When everyone lies, when everyone cheats or bends the rules, then no one can feel reasonably secure. Our system needs trust to succeed, and every time we get a liar, cheat, scam artist making the rules, we lose that trust – and will all suffer the consequences. Out with the liars and cheaters, and in with a system we can all use with faith that it will work for the benefit of all concerned. Thanks for reading.

Interrupted Dreams II

Awoke last night to a thump and cat's yowl,
time to to get up and tamp down any fright.

I went into the kitchen, turned on the light;

She was eyeing a wastebasket, emitting a growl.

The basket fell on its side, with her staring inside.

So I righted it up, heard some rustling sounds.

There was a mouse in there, jumping all around!

Kitty was watching, wanting to taste rodent pie.

Time to decide what to do here and now;

I hitched up my jamas, grabbed the basket

with bouncing creature inside: time to trash it!

Tipped the basket outside, encouraged by meows.

Little gray shape with tiny tail darted out into the night.

I quickly shut the door, and locked for good measure.

Set the basket back down, and thanked my happy feline.

Good catch, ol girl. You are a mouser all right!

One last thanks and then back to sleep's pleasure;

No more noises from the kitchen, my dreams were sublime.

Numbers and the Space Age

I was born in 1957, at the dawn of the space age,
could not know what a whirlwind we were in for.

Twelve years later, in 1969, the US was landing on the Moon.

From 1958, the first US sat launch, to 1969 is only eleven -

An 11 year sprint to the Apollo Eagle landing in the Sea of Tranquility.

From Kennedy's "We will go to the Moon in this decade..."
speech in 1962, to Apollo 8's reaching the Moon was 6 years and change.

In 1975 I graduated from high school – only eighteen,

still a young person, two years distant from 2 decades.

Yet by then NASA had landed on the Moon six times,

lofted the Pioneer probes to the outer Solar system,

sent the Viking on its way to land on Mars,

and put up a Skylab space station. Not bad.

In 1977 I was 20, and we sent the Voyager probes

out to explore the distant Gas Planets and beyond.

In 2019 I am 62, and one is still communicating back.

(42 years of operation is pretty darned impressive. )

When I turned 21, the age of legality for many things,

it was 1978. the Shuttle was still in development,

the Russians were lofting Salyut stations,

And the US space program seemed stalled.

But the L-5 society flourished.

Citizen interest remained out there, and Sci-Fi films fueled it.

Better late than never, the Space Shuttle rolled out of a hangar,

finally took off in 1981, just in time for Tom Wolfe’s book

The Right Stuff: fresh excitement was generated.

From 1981 to 2011, thirty years:

We lofted the Space Shuttle over 120 times;

two of them disintegrated,  and killed 14 people.

We orbited many satellites, and some lengthy experiments;

a spectacular space telescope, and finally a permanent (ISS) Station.

But all of these merely orbit the Earth, and it just doesn’t seem

as dramatic as sending people into outer space proper, to

land on some other world.

Watching old footage from 1971 we can see multiple rocket burns,

rendezvous and dockings, landings and takeoffs from the Moon’s surface.

This was in the days of leaded gas, primitive calculators, and

NO smartphones of any kind whatsoever.

But we still cavorted on another world.

So now we are working on new things. And they are all facing

delays, cost overruns, problems, snafus. I’m just

getting too old to keep waiting for more Moon-play.

Where is that speed of progress that we had from 1957 to 1969?

But at least we have sent robots to the edges of the Solar System,

we have a Tele-presence stretching out, focused on the stars.

There is always that…

In any case,

Congrats to NASA and the USA on Apollo 11 plus Fifty.

Botanical Order

The divine exists in nature,

I feel sure about that.

Looking around the backyard at the exploding daylilies,

being penetrated by groundcherries even as they swallow

the last remnants of my zinnias and columbine.

Said columbine is canted on its side, in death throes still spreading seeds.

Nature’s war is such an elegant expression of beauty and symmetry.

A portion of my backyard has been given leave to enjoy life!

Everything grows wild and reveals lush beauty.

Vines crawl along and push pentacle leaves up at the sky;

Tall weeds bristling with fine hairs sheen and sway in the sun.

Shorter ones sprout flowers and pull attention downward.

Everywhere tiny flying things dance and cavort, or just

dodge those flailing spiderwebs,

everything trying to eat everything else,

no one quite succeeding at anything besides

providing a visual feast for the human overseer,

himself a temporary occupant of this amazing

sliver of land on the East Side of Des Moines. Iowa.

I keep glancing at my watch

A trip to Mars is just around the corner,

We’re getting ready to launch any day now.

The massive rockets await the final order,

indifferent folks are about to be wowed.

We’re getting ready to launch any day now,

Technicians making last-minute preparations;

Indifferent folks are about to be wowed,

human voyagers prepare for long separations.

Technicians making last-minute preparations,

The launch window will be opening soon;

Human voyagers are prepared for long separations,

Big Falcon rockets thrust will make people swoon.

The launch window will be opening soon,

dreams of a new world beckon humanity;

Mighty rocket exhaust will make visitors swoon,

Colonizers will build habitats with audacity.

Dreams of a new world beckon humanity,

after a mountain of difficulties overcome;

Colonizers plan underground cities with audacity,

Many years after we thought it would get done.

A mountain of difficulties finally overcome,

The massive rockets given a final order;

Many years after we thought it would get done,

a trip to Mars is just around the corner.

(modified Pantoum)

The Art of Citying

On the river loop at night, adventures awaited.

So many memories were made, innocence lost.

The places stories were made in this city are unique,

hold a special charm that no other place can.

So many parks to make love or mischief in,

so many spots to learn a life lesson – or

teach one to some pupil,

whether they request it or not.

Fishing spots galore – hiking trails too;

Public plazas, recently re-constructed,

Joy for younger and older alike.

Just big enough to hold some gleam and some dirt;

whichever you are into, you can probably find it.

Churches are numerous here, by the way.

Old stories tend to float in the cyber-air,

I remember when…

could this happen in any other place?

Perhaps, but not in this particular way.

Loop Scoopers' reputations

sprouted, flared and then died

down on Grand or Locust.

Adolescence rounded many turns

on Second ave or 13^th St in days past;

some say it still goes on...

Some of the fights were legendary.

Some who met there stuck together long after.

Colleges and ball teams crystallized,

flourished and then faded away.

A convent was bulldozed to build a shopping center,

then it was named for a WW1 casualty.

A business institute flourished and then got de-instituted;

A north-set college was bulldozed to make room for another strip mall.

Cornfields were flattened, and the first auto drive in

shopping center sprouted, flourished, then slowly withered.

Today a convenience store claims a large chunk of that land.

City big wheels used to go shoot rats over on the south side dump;

Babe was big in boxing, then in the restaurant trade;

The Italians got an early toehold, then a foothold,

then ended up running things around these parts...

But they always knew how to concoct tasty feasts –

they still do.

What a conglomeration of races, purposes, and pursuits!

Des Moines seethed and bubbled, grew up big and tall by 1960…

then receded, withered a bit, and regrouped:

For that big push in the 1990s and beyond, to

reach its current growth surge, thousands more citizens

living, working and congesting the downtown areas

with enthusiasm and energy.

Sure hope this city doesn’t suffer the fate of places like

San Francisco, Denver or Pheonix.

Keep the secret, will you?

Small enough to know people and get around,

big enough to find anything you want,

even a good-paying insurance job.

Too much growth may end up

sickening this golden goose...

Shhhh.

DSCN6791

Cahokia Mounds - atop Monk's Mound.  Unreal to be standing where a thriving civilization carried out sacred rites nearly a thousand years previous.  Well worth the 6-hour drive down there to see it all. 

Massive Modern Monument

Massive steel base solid to the touch,

still gleams bright after fifty-plus years.

People even carve their initials into the sides,

which rise diffident into endless blue sky.

Takes longer than expected to get close,

then is larger than one would think...

One descends into a technological cavern,

all flashing video histories and displays,

every surface made into another presentation.

Model of old St Louis, complete with a

prosperous fur traders home. Antique

tools, crockery, bottles and ceramics.

Display after display tugs your eyes astray.

Finally one makes it past all of that,

for the place to the ultimate ride.

Oh, but don’t forget about security.

Place all personal items in the bin, then

walk through the scanner, and retrieve your stuff,

hmm, just like an airport. Oh well.

Then you encounter a tour guide, who leads

you to one of seven small cars for the ride up.

The combination is like an

Elevator, Escalator, Ferris Wheel.

You ratchet and pivot and raise up.

You see views of many, many stairs and

frameworks, struts and supports.

Four minutes later,

you arrive,

your car levels,

lines up to a door, and

presto, it opens.

You are there, 630 feet up, at the top!

A massive monument to modern civilization

lets us common folk go all the way up, and

look out over a metropolis, two states and a mighty river.

A rare and delightful experience, even if

they charge fourteen bucks to go up in it.

It was worth it.

Anxiety Unplugged

Anxiety rises up in me.

I sit here by a gurgling creek,

water coursing over toes,

sun dappling my surroundings.

Cardinals and blackbirds dodge and parry,

Many other species sing in the June air.

But

the peace of a beautiful afternoon threatens

to be overshadowed by concerns:

I left my phone at home,

computer turned off,

Wi_fi modem powerless.

Am sitting here here disconnected,

technologically blind on the sand...

And isn’t it wonderful?

New awareness tamps down anxieties;

Cardinals dance and chase dragonflies,

Sunbeams illuminate life-chocked air

coruscating above the stream.

“Just enjoy it” I think – totally offline,

no one to spy on me and soak up data,

except for that pesky robin,

and she is just worried about her eggs,

stashed somewhere in the brush nearby.

“Hey, this isn’t half-bad,” I think.

Gonna have to do this more often.

But the “civilized” part of me just cannot

stand it for very long.

I have things to do this evening, places to go.

In a mere twenty minutes,

I am re-shod, mounted back on my bike,

hugging the side of the road, pedalling back home.

A part of me still savors the sunshine and fresh air,

even as I anticipate online, wired gatherings that

loom just up around the corner and across the tracks.

Distinctions

 Like Hibiscus, Zinnias and Salvias in a garden,

different races add variety and color to society.

Like rebar adds strength to concrete,

so do other races add backbone to society.

Like flavoring and sauce on a casserole,

other races can add flavor and delight.

Like a new sport-utility vehicle loaded with options,

the variety of races give a lot of alternatives.

Like a metallic alloy combining several elements,

a good mix of races adds endurance and flexibility.

Like the most sophisticated semiconductors,

a rich mix of races adds intellectual prowess.

Whatever generation you come from,

one can agree that acceptance of other races

beside our own can be beneficial for society.

Critics will not be satiated

here at 61, still not bred,

got to get you out of my head,

Gaily at ease I stay in stead,

my critics will never be fed.

Changes come slow or fast,

I stick with my cohorts up to the last,

some have fled to death’s embrace,

Others stay behind, put on a brave face.

Relatively few of us still stand,

here in the barren Midwest;

we still work and play the best we can,

decorate, do some art, put on a fancy dress.

But never allow ourselves to get depressed,

we might miss one last party,

one last lucky trick to enjoy,

one more happy memory to create and express.

The critics will never stop,

but then again, neither will we.

On and on the circus goes,

yet slower and slower, awareness slows.

A gentle, rewarding grace in age at last,

allows an escape from hatred’s grasp.

We know better

or, a little trip of absurdity today.

Bitcoin, bitcoin, every little bitcoin,

stealthy financial sneak-ings all around.

Bitcoin, bitcoin, take another hit-coin,

pour another drink and drink it all up.

Launder that money, Russkies, send it

here and send it there and everywhere.

Our bankers won’t complain, won’t utter a peep.

No whistleblower will whistle a squeak.

Money is money, gold is gold,

everywhere you look, those rich are bold.

Baby boomers spend and get more old,

pill pushers keep pushing to help us cope.

LGBT rainbow bridges cross continents,

free the brave youth, save their lives.

New refugee movement to replace the old,

Where to put all of the dispossessed,

brutalized by their elite, the ever oppressed.

We could take them in, and get them undressed.

So much going on in the world today,

the terminator getting his back kicked,

our leader by his own party tricked.

Another presidential candidate whips

out his big attempt at a pirouette.

Rain, tornadoes, storms, flooding.

Human misery multiplies with absurdity.

Commercials pepper our brains with promises,

balmy pap reassures us it is just another day

in paradise.

We know better.

Ambrosia of the Lesser Gods

Day old Donuts are good for demeanor;

They deliver much delight, and usually

still taste delicious, especially when

warmed up with a dollop of butter.

Whether at an annual poetry convention,

or simply a Saturday morning at home,

They brighten up their surroundings,

colorful glazes invite salivating bites.

The price of new ones is enough to deter

a definitive decision to drop them in the cart.

But when evening approaches and the stores

drop the prices, minds change and more leave the store.

Diligent diets are deterred, for perhaps eternity,

when these delicious dainties are dangled eye-side.

It is enough to cause even the most libertarian diner

to grab em, curse and mutter: “There outta be a law...”

Space Time Excitement Loops

Whether describing an EM drive to

push spacecraft and ignore Einstein,

or talking up the 100-year Starship plan,

human eyes look to starry skies, desiring to fly.

Those tantalizing nuggets floating out there

may contain tons of gold and platinum!

All just waiting for the right company to exploit ‘em;

Dreamers keep eyeing and plotting and hoping.

Someday someone will make a crucial leap,

another will adjust a value here and there,

a third get some financing,

a forth talk some key official into it.

And it will happen, and happen, and happen.

Then the human swarm will blanket our solar system,

Building, exploiting and populating orbiting rocks all over.

(*grinning in amazement*)

Amazing to contemplate what will be up ahead...

Could Galileo or Newton conceptualize the

colossal mess they helped engender?

I bet not, although given their intellect, perhaps so.

Meantime, stay tuned to the small hardy bands working

to make the future a reality, however it ultimately turns out.

https://www.nasa.gov/ames/ocs/2014-summer-series/harold-white

https://100yss.org/mission/purpose

Supernaturale, or to Them from Us

 MUFON and the US navy are watching you,

you rascally space beings flitting yourselves

across our innocent skies with impudence.

How dare you, with ghostly forms,

teleport yourselves in and out of

our awareness, teasing consciousness.

Move objects with your forces,

scare poor inferiors into submission.

Why do you need this isolated rock?

We are just scraping sustenance and

sexing ourselves into senselessness;

Why torture us with your rays?

Around these galactic parts, we

are the ones in charge, in case you

haven’t become aware of our junk.

To react takes us at least days,

while you flutter in and out of

our corporeal matter in microseconds.

Your essence is dark and quick,

fearing nothing, assimilating everything;

Did we ever stand a chance?

Just remember in your conquers,

the delicate tendrils you absorb

and delight in become a part of you now.

Yes – you are now us as we are you,

there is no escape from total unity.

Thank you for handing us that one victory.

Tempered Wanderlust

Moving to new places might be fun,

But there is always work to be done.

Money does not fall from the sky,

Nor grow on trees, nor in the grass lie.

So one best have some income lined up,

a job or career to prime the money pump.

Just moving on a whim can be disastrous,

you can end up starving, and even homeless.

Life’s lessons are dished out in dollops

of heaping helpings of harsh wallops.

Either one dies or recovers and keeps on,

last lesson burned in a wiser mind strong.

As a single person ages and learns,

once hasty moves slow, he takes longer turns.

Past lessons inform, past mistakes burn,

Want to move again? One had better earn…

And earn and earn a lot of spending cash,

Then one can avoid the homeless hash.

On days off enjoy the many fine sights,

Avoiding any dreary severe poverty plights.

(with posthumous apologies to Ogden Nash)

Need to work together to mitigate disasters

It has been easy to feel antagonism and fury at the opposing political party. “They just don’t seem to grasp true logic, they are always focused on their own petty wants, they seem determined to take our nation down the tubes.” This description could fit either political party, from the point of view of the other one. Democrats vs Republicans. Sure, the smaller parties have an opinion on things, and may see themselves as the only real alternative. Not too different from many religions, but that is another debate.

My worry is that the USA is faced with many problems. Chief among them seems to be the constant natural disasters we have been enduring. Many hurricanes and tornadoes have damaged large swaths of the country. Fires and floods have ravaged other parts. Many regions have gone from fall fires to winter snowstorms, to spring floods and mudslides. What else is going to happen? Earthquakes have been rumbling around too, making themselves felt. These disasters individually are destructive enough to empty out towns, destroying housing and casting whole populations adrift. (Worse than any bombing short of a nuclear warhead.) It is as if mother nature herself has declared war on us all.

Simple yelling and finger-pointing is not enough. We need to work together on these problems, and reach solutions, or at least agreement on courses of action. Like it or not, we are all stuck in the same ‘sandbox’ and when an outside agency is threatening us, we must unite. But no, instead the parties are sniping at each other, and sabotaging each others efforts at solutions. Ultimately the actions of these political organizations could end up threatening the well-being of us all.

We have river levies that need to be repaired ASAP, before more flooding comes. We have towns and cities languishing months or years after a disaster, still awaiting some kind of federal help. We have a need to more funding for rapid response help for disaster victims. The way things are going, the entire USA is becoming one colossal disaster victim. Things are looking dire. Every week there are more severe weather disasters occurring. Political infighting will not help us combat these problems. Only co-operating and co-ordination can help us face these disasters.

Vote for who you want, but tell them they need to stop listening to our enemies, and start working together with other Americans to help save our tattered nation.

Thanks for reading.

Spy vs Spy - in and out

One country thinks they have the perfect spy,

reaching the highest centers of power.

The other country thinks they are playing

said first country for fools –

giving them some fodder,

leading them on,

then ultimately fooling them.

How much money is spent in these games?

One misleading another,

spying on their own fools errands.

Analyzing every message,

studying misinformation for clues.

What a strange art,

takes people to strange places.

Makes them do bizarre things

all in the name of God and Country…

“We got the best of them!”

“No, we got the best of them!”

And in the end, everyone dies off,

and no one knows who actually succeeded.

And it really doesn’t matter, anyway.

But it sure makes for a juicy TV special.

Electromechanical Empires rose and fell

Card-punching equipment thrived,

humans interfaced with electromechanical

devices highly efficient.

Discrete digital codes hammered out

industrial efficiency recorded data in volumes.

Numerical superiority of our machines

increased steadily.

Ever-greater storage volumes ensured

vastly increased sales dollars.

Busy people crowded around massive mainframes.

Busy bankers funded the efforts.

Economic activity swirled, coalesced, surged and crested.

IBM Data Processing Systems were at the center of it all.

(Not to discount the products of the other six companies…)

Advertising artwork created new Digital Overlords,

worshiped by blue-robed acolytes,

feeding the majestic beast it’s requirements

in punch-cards, magnetic platters and reels.

Every so often typing in a humble request:

“Please start this next job,

and if you please, give us a report.”

Most of the time, our lord 370 would

grant us compliance. Sometimes we

would be required to pay further obeisance,

a-bending our knees and a-breaking our routines.

Programmer priests were called in, to

prod the great one to move data mountains

once again, and keep society on track.

And the whole electro-metallic mighty-framed show careened on.

Then one day someone came up with the personal computer,

someone else invented the first smartphone,

and the once-mighty mainframe god was, in turn,

brought to its knees!

See how godlike you are now,

you obsolete bucket of antique scrap.

No more worship for you,

just the melting pot,

where you’ll be turned into tiny parts,

and play a new part in showing the latest

Instagram and Snapchat postings,

making a 21^st century teenager rich and famous.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.