Day: February 27, 2020

Writing poetry and musings is work
Not a job where I get paid
Nor a short path to nobility
 
In my mind, I sputter on
The results may be precarious
Thumbs will point in both directions
 
I sometimes have trouble with its validity
But I am at peace with myself because
The element of truth always runs through it
 
I am not fearful and my temperament is consistent
I do not endure fools well or
Snipers who attempt to crack my spiritual armor
 
My work does not always enrich, nor
Does it intentionally tear down, but is
Inspirational, educational, or both
 
I am alone as I write
No one to answer to
This is a strange phenomena
 
In real life there have always been impediments
Regular work and responsibilities of family life
Amazing relevant thoughts go unwritten
 
They were usually spent in conversation
Soon they disappeared like dreams often do
The basis for thinking them always remained
 
I am not on a pilgrimage to prove anything
My discourse is on life and possibilities
I find it remarkable and exciting
 
I sometime, after being out walking, come home
I am greeted now by an empty home and wonder
How did all of this marvel happen; how did it come to this?
 
Stanski
February 27, 2020 ^
 
 
 

Our world seems upside down 
Enough for everyone but many are without
Food thrown away while others are starving
Water wasted while others walk miles for
Water that is semi-potable

Buildings stand empty; abandoned
People sleep on sidewalks; live on the streets
Leadership cries out but does not lead

Drugs are a big problem
We leave our borders open to drug traffickers

We have United States Senators voting to
Abandon a living survivor of an abortion attempt
“Do no harm” is removed from the control of physicians

We want the million legal immigrants each year, but are
Ostracized for wanting closed borders

People are aghast with sex offenders
But set them free to offend again and again
Allow sex-slaves access to our country
Create sanctuary formats for them
 
I see a beautiful building and its reflection in a pond
The building has been abandoned for years

What took place there at one time?
It looks to be a haven of goodness
Many kind and decent people were most likely employed there
I wonder what they did

Was it a home for the infirmed and aged?
Maybe a private school for gifted or special students

Pictures say a thousand words
This picture tells me nothing

My trenchant mind will create a use
That brings peace to the soul and then sadness
Because such a wondrous existence came to an end

Our world seems upside down
What about our peace; our sadness
 
Stanski
February 27, 2020^
 

Inundated by news
Many topics
Many points of view
The Coronavirus 19

Markets
Condition of China
The typical blame game
Political debate scramble

Who is the favorite?
The front runner
Can you buy the nomination?

How to handle crime in a non-racial manner
Paying for the schooling of illegals
Whom have raped an 11 year old girl
 
So many fish in the ocean of news
So many opinions on just what to do
Who said the right thing wrong?

Who repeated what was not true
How many a year were killed by guns?
Who made deals with leaders 20 years deceased?

These things might be funny if
They were not so serious

Should the President have stopped Chinese
Travel into the United States as soon as he did?
Was it fair?

So many answers from so many people
No one knows all the answers
 
We need more than clowns
We do not desire constant division or a
Party openly endorsing Socialism

Absurd attacks on each other on
Who can offer the most free benefits

How can all of this be?
How did we get this far?
Unanswered for now

The night will go on
The questions will keep coming
 
Stanski
February 26, 2020 ^
 

I speak often of ravens or black birds
They fly out in front of me as I drive
So as to signal me; wave the caution sign

I feel that they are my guardian angels
Even angels like me have guards
They caution me to take it easy

Be aware of the day ahead
I do not try to avoid them
They tell me to speak softly

Your words are like thunder they say
Speak kindly
I think of these things

Birds as counselors
They do a pretty fair job
As an angel, I think of my qualities

People cannot see me glide
Cannot be reminded of what I stand for
Be guided by my presence

I cannot influence the birds
It does not seem fair
The advantages should be mine

I can only observe
People I wish to warn are missed
My wings are tucked as I drive

I do not constantly change form
My human instincts prevail
My angel-self understands

There is no animosity
It is just the way it is
The raven wins
 
Stanski
February 26, 2020 ^
 

I sit alone 
It is five in the afternoon
I just woke up from a three hour nap
My physical condition seems to be slipping
It may be a temporary situation
That is my hope because
I do not wish to give up being active
I am okay being alone, but
Desire to be around other active people
 
I look out the window
There is solitude there also
No creature, in my eyesight, stirring about
The wind is blowing, strongly but not fiercely
Mr. Sun is casting long shadows
I feel the radiant chill from the walls
I like writing about experience
Interaction with other people’s ideas
The source of their beliefs
 
I have always thought that
Action speaks louder than words
It is so easy to criticize when
You are not in the arena engaging
The non-doers speak the loudest
Pile on regardless of the source
I think their curiosity is dormant
They are satisfied with others thoughts
Which are coincidental with their own
 
There is no tendency to explore
Discover on their own what is happening
Or what has happened if anything at all
I like involvement with reality
Know what makes people tick
Find the source of their strength
Among these I usually hear the word respect
I attempt to employ it in all my encounters
Never have to worry about second thoughts
 
Stanski
February 26, 2020 ^
 
 
 

 
 
Blowing winds mimic trains
Rumbling through the countryside
The roaring masks the whistle’s wails
Preceding arrival at crossroads
 
Good conductors recognize this
Making necessary adjustments
Using undetected motions
 
Engineers do not pose as conductors
They carry no baton
 Winds need no baton or conductor
 
Both continue through the night
The wind as it pleases
The other to a well known schedule
 
One will eventually go home to enjoy
His own symphony of rock-and-roll or country
After lavabo and vespers he is settled
Slides easily into his dreamland
 
We are home, we
Have no choice
Listen to this music
It cannot be ignored
 
In deference to classic
We call it traditional nature
You enjoy but not to the point of delight
There are no refunds
No tickets were purchased
 
No curtain calls for performers
This is a solitary storm
Done her way:  Tempo allegro
 
 
Stanski
February 26, 2020 ^