New Beginnings

This past week I noticed that my daffodils were beginning to push up through the ground. I have never seen this in November. Sometimes they show through in February, but never in the Fall. Trees have now set their buds and wait through the long winter for a new Spring. As I think about all that has taken place this week, with the election and the projected change in our country’s leadership, I thought this might be a good poem to reflect upon.

At the base of each drying leaf

Is a bud full of life and potential

Waiting patiently for summer’s heat

Or winter’s cold to pass

In the cool of spring

The refreshing showers

The promise of warmth

Sap rises in the cambium

Pushes open that small bud

Enlarging into a new fresh leaf

Green and vigorous

Full of life

Remember…

Behind all that crushes you

Makes you feel devastated

Hopeless and distraught

Lies a bud of strength and potential

Waiting for you to recognize

That your spring has arrived

Once more

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Offered Wine… Served Kool-Aide

Beware you serfs, sucked in

by superfluous words wrapped in thorns

pricked and pounded by talking heads

offering hot air opinions

floating away,

bursting in mid air

bottle rocket promises full of

spectacular show and nothing more

*

Beware of blunderbuss arrows

pulled from your quiver of bias

shot from tensioned bow pulled

back, bleeding hearts left crying

wounds that never heal, running

blood red, not black, white, or yellow

dreams stained streets crying for hope

futures down times drain,

never coming to fruition

*

Beware you serfs, feeding off crumbs

from the masters table thinking

caviar and filet minion

Promised “a chicken in every pot”

only to find bones and feathers

floating in cesspools of bigotry and hate

destroying the marrow of society

grinding bones of workers

into mortar for castles of gold

*

Beware you serfs when you watch

cherry picking favorite words and lines

feeling like twisted truth is genuine

offering you Wine … but serving Kool-aide

Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Lisa asked us to consider the Vatic Voice, the voice of the prophet in our poetry, speaking as though from the voice of God! I decided to try something different for me with a prophetic political rant. Tonight is the first of the Presidential Debates. Never have we had such extreme differences in the candidates. It is easy to simply choose someone who thinks and talks like we do, but there is much more at stake. We are choosing a way of thinking for the future of the country. The two candidates are really irrelevant, in my opinion. We are voting for a philosophy.

Join us at: https://dverse poets.com Then click on the Mr. Linkey box to read poems written by other poets as well.

The Cat at the Top

Cat at the top of the heap

doesn’t ever want to lose his seat

But the more he shovels it

Out from under him

The more he gets called a creep

His wife seems all prim and proper

Though it seems she has little to offer

She is there by his side

with nothing to hide

Still the media has often scoffed her

So when this weird year is over

And we are hopefully done with covid

We will know which cat will shine

For now we’ll be Biden our time and…

Wait to see if Trump’s base has voted

Photos: Dwight L. Roth