Pundits are not dreamers
They merely hang on, repeating
information, true or otherwise, in ways
that show they can out do their mates
They are hyperbolic and over the top
Constantly trying to take down the one man
who keeps his promises, such as
energy independence, improved wages,
higher employment for minorities,
removing regulations, reducing taxes,
Providing hope for sick military men and
rebuilding our defense, building the wall
on our southern border, dissolving the
Iran Deal, defeating Isis, initiating
Fair Trade deals, and much more
Is he applauded? No. Over ninety percent
of the news concerning him is negative
The main stream media is brutal
Journalism that we once knew is dead
Dreamers are usually doers and are not content
They are busy, but are thinking of improving
and evolving to new heights constantly as they
move along the road.
The pundits are banging heads in an
overcrowded room, each claiming to have
the most exciting spin. Where is the love of country?
Why do the dreamers go for improvements?
Where is the talk of alliances with our
free world partners among the pundits?
There is none.
The dreamer talks of this and of everyone
paying their fair share, but he is not about
to receive credit. That would constitute a basic
violation of the hidden agenda in the deep state
and the really fake news providers
Dreamers are aware of injustices in the world
They do not knock anyone trying to improve condition.
The pundits do. Dreamers point out genocide,
starvation, suicides and lack of potable water
Pundits talk about how soft their sheets are
How many people only listen to the liberal pundits?
Certainly not the deplorable. So there is hope.
Most want the border fixed.
They care for those losing loved ones.
They do not hate the president and they do love their country.
The left leaning pundits are overpaid comedians.
The programs, and they are programed,
are sponsored by commercials, many of them
as awkward and disingenuous as the propaganda they are supporting
Dreamers have sheets and running water in this country,
but they are not gloating or looking away from reality
Stanski
December 6, 2019 ^
Author: stevehaarman
POEMS OR MUSINGS
A lady I hardly knew said
she thought I was quite a poet
I thanked her but suggested that she
should change my title to that of a muse
I write about things close to my heart
The human condition and such
Things we have no control over and
things, if willing, we can have an effect on
I write about broken hearts
My own, usually, when I witness
scenes of sadness or unnecessary evil
by those seeking power and control over others
I feel and write about those who
have lost love ones, never having the
chance again to say, “I love you” or
“I’m sorry” or just to ask a question
I feel for those who are ill and confused by drugs
and this confusion becomes their truth on which
they make life altering decisions without
regard to the feelings of others
They are good at getting affirmation,
so feel content in their delirium
I listen to petty complaints and write about
the Nomads and refugees, who are cold, hungry and
thirsty; existing with little hope;
many dying, making our small problems seem like luxury
This is the stuff of my musings
I can write about fireflies, moon rises, sunsets and glory
But in the end what really has meaning?
Stanski
January 4, 2019 ^
SALTY TEARS DROP FROM OUR EYES
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SALTY TEARS DROP FROM OUR EYES
Salty tears drop from our eyes
Evaporate, leaving no stain
We are sinners
Our souls are marked
Have much to do to make up
For the agony we put Him through
Tears are a remembrance of
All things we think important
They silently speak of the compassion
We have for those who exist without
Food, water and a place to rest themselves
There are no others at all for them
We must be the light that He speaks of
Do the things that will remove their darkness
Pray for guidance to continue needed work
No matter how deep the valley we’re in
Take yourself to the mountain and
Feel the tears flow down your face as
You see and dwell on all of the misery and
Evaluate what your efforts must be
No time to walk away from this
Anguish exists and it is up to us
Want these dear people to sparkle
When the train comes to pick them up
You will wave goodbye and salty tears
Will remind you of the darkness
You neutralized with your light
Gifting others with your gift from Him
We, too, are hopeless many times and
Depend on His blessing to see us through
We are not above or below any being
Unless we choose to be outcasts, who
Will miss out on the tears of joy and
The salt of happiness as we praise,
Bringing the light that darkness cannot overcome
And step aboard His train of goodness
Stanski
January 2, 2019 ^
TEACHING WITH NO ONE LISTENING
How many lessons can I teach?
I thought as I picked up my pen
All of my liberal friends ignore me
When I point out their basic sin
Leaving that area to rest for a while
I focus for a moment on disrespect
Highly paid athletes failure to salute our flag
Forgetting their freedom was provided by deaths
I like heroes in every possible area
Many sports people set examples that are good
They are leaders; uninhibited in their communities
Behaving with gratitude and humility as they should
This is respect we can all admire
It exists positively in midst of degradation
Some instinctively insist on truth
Sometimes creating quite a sensation
Men, remove you hats when you enter a building
Good manners are not a thing of the past
Opening the door and standing up for a lady
Just a good thing to do; can we make a pact
Paying attention is another thing
Many seen to not be aware
Evil lingering right in their midst
Head in the sand, I swear
There are so many things to do
Get involved in your community
So many organizations could use your help
Don’t miss out on an opportunity
When you are at a table, eating out
And sit there for over an hour
Don’t act like it is okay
To leave only a dollar
My pen is tired and so am I
Stanski
June 28, 2019 ^
COLD NIGHT BRIGHT MOON
Temperatures drop suddenly
My ambition follows suit
I walk outside with no coat
Look at the bright cloudy sky
The moon is large giving light
An airplane is zooming in
For a landing in the nearby airport
They appear to be gliding
But are traveling at 400 miles per hour
It drops quickly for its entrance
I think, just like the temperature
Air travel is safe for the most part
Some say safer than car travel
40,000 are killed each year in traffic
The pilots have a lot at stake
Gives me a higher degree of hope
I am a white knuckler when it comes to flying
Looking up I can see no stars
The moon is the big cheese
A man is walking his dog
A large chocolate lab and
The little plastic bag he carries
Appears to be full, so I am sure
He feels like it has been a success
Can probably barely contain his excitement
“Cocoa” was good tonight, honey
He’ll show his wife the bag
My lord, she’ll say, he was a good dog
I guess older people need this activity
Life for some is rather boring and
A good dog offers fulfillment
Even on these cold evenings
The man wasn’t wearing a hat, so
Tomorrow he’ll probably be sick
That will give the misses a chance to
See how she can do with daily duty
She will go when it is still light and
Hopefully warmer, but true dog lovers
Are dedicated and usually hardy
There are more planes coming in, too
I would call that a bonus
Stanski
November 6, 2019 ^
REMEMBERING CAROL
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She had a golden touch, which explained the richness of her living. Her heart was open just enough, to give out all the love that was needed for the right here and now. Her soul she would feed with only triple washed, certified organic, gospel be damned truth. Her soul was pure. She was always on the lookout for scraps, discards and rejects. She found uses for all of these, never related and connected only by the fact that they all added layers to her nest. Little feathers added one by one brought warmth and comfort. She kept this quiet with only subtle mention, but radiated it with her glow of peace, hope and understanding. She reached out far enough so you would always know that her hand was there, waiting. Her voice was much like the soft summer song of early morning nature. She had a silver lining, but it never came with a storm. Her only complaint was of not enough hours. Our complaint was, there was not enough of her. She was an original, first and only version, pure joy and now gone.
By Steve Haarman
November 6, 2019
A CAROL TO MOM
She had a golden touch,
which explained the richness of her living.
Her heart was open just enough,
to give out all the love that was needed
for the right here and now.
Her soul she would feed with only triple washed,
certified organic, gospel be damned truth.
Her soul was pure.
She was always on the lookout
for scraps, discards and rejects.
She found uses for all of these,
never related and connected only by the fact
that they all added layers to her nest.
Little feathers added one by one
brought warmth and comfort.
She kept this quiet with only subtle mention,
but radiated it with her glow
of peace, hope and understanding.
She reached out far enough
so you would always know
that her hand was there, waiting.
Her voice was much like the soft summer song
of early morning nature.
She had a silver lining,
but it never came with a storm.
Her only complaint was of not enough hours.
Our complaint was,
there was not enough of her.
She was an original,
first and only version,
pure joy and now gone.
By Steve Haarman
November 6, 2019
BUNNY SCHMIDT
I was handing a stack of self-addressed
and stamped envelopes to my helper, who
was going to put them, with my personal letter
into an envelope addressed to many of
the people I know, requesting money for
a special project I was working on
Suddenly, Bunny Schmidt, who died over
twenty years ago, showed up and said
not to send him a note because
he was out of work and did not have
any money. He smiled and walked out
I sat there stunned not knowing what to think
Okay, Bunny, I won’t be mailing you anything
I remembered a time long ago when he was
involved in developing a pole vault that extended
from six feet to twenty-four feet
It was very flexible but not reliable
When you are in the air reliability is important
A few injuries ruined the promise of a great invention
Bunny left the territory and went west
I lost track of him, until I read his obituary
He had married and then divorced
Had a few children scattered across the country
His parents were both alive at that time
When I woke up, I thought of Bunny
His given name was Joseph
I went to grade school with him
He was one year ahead of me
I saw him now and then in high school
After that my connection with him was over
The brain and mind are amazing
What we forget and remember are notable
We forget what we know at inopportune times
We remember things from the past
that have no current meaning or implications
It is a lot of fun contemplating all of this
Bunny would agree, if only he had a job
Stanski
November 4, 2019 ^
DREAMING AGAIN
I woke and remembered I had been dreaming of
a room full of overflowing wastebaskets which
I kicked over accidentally because I was
late starting for my trip to Chicago
I did arrive in time for the afternoon meeting
Where we discussed declining population
And excessive sunflower production in North Dakota
Representatives from the farmland were worried
about revenues
It was noted that lake water had dropped
after three years of rising and
there was worry that the Russians
and Chinese were draining
the Great Lakes for fresh water for drinking
Conspiracy stories were running wild.
The Fentanyl epidemic was growing worse with an
Increasing number of deaths. The border wall
was complete and no one could explain the reason
Many blamed the Chinese
It was noted that there was rioting
Over the cost of beef
Ranchers said there was a shortage, but
meat lockers were full of product that
had remained frozen for over two years
Normalcy was not going to prevail
Also noted was that the Queen of England
and the Pope of Rome were traveling to
an important meeting at the United Nations
They were to receive the Rosa Parks Award
for addressing world problems. Sixty communist countries
would be the only ones in attendance
The meeting ended with no resolutions, but
an agreement to meet again soon
Stanski
November 4, 2019 ^
PERFECTION SEEKER
Before one commits he seeks a perfect situation
I might say now that this is futile
The looking may take forever
Because perfection is allusive
What you thought was there and right
Changes quickly as does circumstance
You spot a flaw; that is your perception
A wonderful opportunity is passed by
A person expresses an interest in another
This being is then examined by the pursued
Again, little flaws appear which puts
the person in a less than ideal perspective
The warrior, as we will call him,
continues on his search, which may
include an employment opening, or
someone to cherish and love
Possibly a house he wishes to make a home
Time continues to march on as time does
A favorable juncture of situations occurs
The warrior has a heart that is beating rapidly
In his mind he has arrived
Everything is favorable, finally at last
He strives in to seal the deal, so to speak
but someone else is hired in the ideal job
The house is sold out from under him as
he reacted too slowly and then his own flaws
chased away the one person he could love
He is alone and totally broken
The past events and chances make no sense
He, in his mind, has been a fool and
now perfection means very little to him
He is willing to settle on less than his ideal
He is older and still has to grow
Wisdom was slow in weaving itself into
what we will call his reality
The only perfection was his imperfection
Stanski
November 2, 2019 ^
Steve Haarman 