Library Bipolarity

Word comes
that Gandhi has died
And yet
there is still love

Word comes
that Buddha has passed
And yet
bliss endures

there is love
there is hope
there is compassion
they do not belong to anyone
they are not to be owned
there is no exclusivity
there is no defining man
through them

Word comes
that Torquemada has died
And yet
there is still fear

Word comes
that Hitler has died
And yet
hate endures

there is fear
there is hate
there is anger
they do not belong to anyone
they are not to be owned
there is no exclusivity
there is no defining man
through them

each is
authentically powerless
like a book
resting impotently
upon the shelf

a book
ready to be read
on a sunny
or a rainy day

a book can tell one
what to do
but that choice is neither made
by the page
nor by the binding

it is only
what it is

like a book
to be replaced
upon the shelf
as the sun sets
upon the face

Layoff

I ask myself
What's all this
shouting
about
when
it is
what
it is

No more
No less

My Shouts
Justified
Undoubtedly
But mute
By ineffectiveness

Where there's
a will,
history shows,
sycophants
often
get their way

And workers
are "Good to go"
while
ClusterF'ers
are asked
to stay

They say she

They say she is crazy
Maybe
Crazy with grief

She waits for him
For answers
Because there is
no one else left
to wait for

No son now
No husband now
Few relatives
Stand beside her

The grieving mother.
The brave mother.
The courage
in her heart
Fuel for her despair.

The agenda of the wicked
They say she
Has lost her husband
They say she
Has lost her head

Oh cursed cowards
Oh arrogant news puppets
Oh malicious Michelle
Would that you
Might feel the pain
of a slain
Mother's heart

But I do not think she
Would wish it upon you

She shames you
By her brave sunburnt face
And the memory
of what she has loved and lost