In Search of Snow Angels

 

 

These are respite places.

Or, so we are told.

But in the interim, a simple plotted gesture for wandering souls.

I tell my lover, to make her aware.

She never hesitates to let me be.

She, alone, understands the expelling of, demons, no one else can see.

It is not mystique I seek.

Nor, blind guidance, from sacred places.

It is the silence that can only be found by…

pursuing to understand…

Understand something that will never be…

Never be completely understood.

Yet, the quest stays like a solemn secret stage.

A critiqued, columned, colloquial,

in which peace is at play.

 

Tent in the Woods

Tent City is in the air.

Has it just arrived or…had it always been there?

The hillside is on fire with the anonymous.

Between the purple majesty…lay a forgotten influx.

No post in which to hang our flag.

No tails to be wagged.

michael
MIchael Ginnie: holding a picture of Junior. Junior ended up being surrendered. As Michael puts it, “…the winter outside…ain’t no place for a dog!”

Down country lanes with no true name…

No city grit to meet the feet.

How rural the homeland and it’s deceit.

 

 

the Chemistry of Melting Snow

I found my wants in a pile of residual snow.

As if, it had no place left to go.

Over the wrecked rectory on the hill.

Beyond the country store where the town drunks get their fill.

Ten miles past Franklin Motel.

A habitat for the loners looking to get out of hell.

I nudged my desires with a blackened steel toe.

As if, I had no place left to go.

Years before gravity took hold.

I fanned a flame to a luxurious limbo.

It had been an overfed shelter of lust and misconstrued need.

But my flame grew higher and harder to fed.

I kicked at the embers.

Such as I do now.

With a lessened ego.

Ash to ash…I made sure it had no place left to go.

It would appear that contentment starts slow.

As in the vacant burning back lots.

As in the gradual interment of lack luster thoughts.

Standing over the stained melting snow.

I now have some place that I can go.

 

 

A Day in the Life

DAY IN THE LIFE OF JOE and JANE REPUBLICAN AMERICANS.
Joe gets up at 6 a.m. and fills his coffeepot with water to prepare his morning coffee. The water is clean and good because some tree-hugging liberal fought for minimum water-quality standards. With his first swallow of coffee, he takes his daily medication. His medications are safe to take because some stupid commie liberal fought to ensure their safety and that they work as advertised.
All but $10 of his medications are paid for by his employer’s medical plan because some liberal union workers fought their employers for paid medical insurance – now Joe gets it too. Jane prepares her morning breakfast, bacon and eggs. Jane’s bacon is safe to eat because some girly man liberal fought for laws to regulate the meat-packing industry.
In the morning shower, Jane reaches for her shampoo. Her bottle is properly labeled with each ingredient and its amount in the total contents because some crybaby liberal fought for her right to know what she was putting on her body and how much it contained. Joe dresses, walks outside and takes a deep breath. The air he breathes is clean because some environmentalist wacko liberal fought for laws to stop industries from polluting our air. He walks to the subway station for his government-subsidized ride to work. It saves him considerable money in parking and transportation fees because some fancy-pants liberal fought for affordable public transportation, which gives everyone the opportunity to be a contributor.
Jane begins her work day. She has a good job with excellent pay, medical benefits, retirement, paid holidays and vacation because some lazy liberal union members fought and died for these working standards. Jane’s employer pays these standards because Jane’s employer doesn’t want her employees to call the union.
If Joe is hurt on the job or becomes unemployed, he’ll get a worker compensation or unemployment check because some stupid liberal didn’t think he should lose his home because of his temporary misfortune.
It’s noontime and Joe needs to make a bank deposit so he can pay some bills. Joe’s deposit is federally insured by the FSLIC because some godless liberal wanted to protect Joe’s money from unscrupulous bankers who ruined the banking system before the Great Depression.
Jane has to pay her Fannie Mae-underwritten mortgage and her below-market federal student loan because some elitist liberal decided that Jane and the government would be better off if he was educated and earned more money over her lifetime.
Joe is home from work. He plans to visit his father this evening at his farm home in the country. He gets in his car for the drive. His car is among the safest in the world because some America-hating liberal fought for car safety standards. He arrives at his boyhood home. His was the third generation to live in the house financed by Farmers’ Home Administration because bankers didn’t want to make rural loans. The house didn’t have electricity until some big-government liberal stuck his nose where it didn’t belong and demanded rural electrification.
He is happy to see his father, who is now retired. His father lives on Social Security and a union pension because some wine-drinking, cheese-eating liberal made sure he could take care of himself so Joe wouldn’t have to.
Joe gets back in his car for the ride home, and turns on a radio talk show. The radio host keeps saying that liberals are bad and conservatives are good. He doesn’t mention that the beloved Republicans have fought against every protection and benefit Joe enjoys throughout his day.
Joe agrees: “We don’t need those big-government liberals ruining our lives! After all, I’m a self-made man who believes everyone should take care of themselves, just like I have!”

Ignorance: find relevance in today.

 

 

Tilton, New Hampshire
Tilton, New Hampshire

I am in awe of my own conformity.  My own complacency.  My avoidance of charity and awareness.  I had heard/read this story about two months ago.  I chose to not write about it.  I consciously understood that by not bringing to the attention of greater minds…my readers, I would be deceiving my own true beliefs.

True belief in the idea that…I should not wait until an accident happens…before I put my own personal stop sign up.

 I frequent this particular area, of Concord,  from time to time, with my dogs.  Usually it is to let the dogs out, off leash, and, allow them and the Soup Kitchen attendees, to meet.

Many of the homeless once owned animals…and, as is typically the case, have had to surrender them or give them up, due to lack of funds.

What bothered me about my lack of forthcoming…my need to please?

I knew down deep in my heart that whether my writing about this absurd tragedy…would increase knowledge and perhaps, change…I also toyed with the idea that perhaps, the article would not be readable or pleasing to the eye.

Shame on me.

Everyday, for several days, this story has entered my morning meditation.  Yet, I sat and let it go.  Why is it, as humans, do we sit and let…wrong, immoral, acts go?

I’ve researched, current day, if a deal has been struck in relation to this man.

This man who whether good or bad; has he received any posthumous acknowledgement.  I’ve yet to come up with anything permanent.  Vague small articles have been written.  Nothing much physical done!

I did not know this man who passed.  Whatever his history, it should not matter.  At the time of the incident, he had been an innocent man.

find relevance in today
find relevance in today

‘After all, there are two aspects of ignorance, one of peace as well as, one of torment.  I have always sought the first; but the tantalizing Goddess persists in showing me the second.’

-Gamaliel Bradford

Homeless Man Struck on I-393 Passes Away

Gene Parker, 62, was hit on Jan. 28, while trying to navigate his wheelchair on the Interstate due to snow blocking the sidewalks.
Homeless Man Struck on I-393 Passes Away

CONCORD, NH – The homeless man who was struck on I-393 in his wheelchair while trying to roll from South Commercial Street to North Main Street has passed away due to his injuries.

Gene Parker, 62, died on Jan. 31, 2016, with family and friends at Concord Hospital.

Parker was hit at around 7 p.m. on Jan. 28, on the eastbound side of the Interstate. Friends had rolled him up South Commercial Street and were behind him when he was hit. Parker was taken to Concord Hospital with serious injuries, according to comments made by family and friends on Facebook. The highway was closed for a number of hours as the incident was investigated. Neither alcohol nor drugs were factors and no charges have been filed against the driver, according to Concord Police.

Parker, according to online records, was a registered sex offender, having been convicted of two felonious sexual assault charges in 2001. He was previously convicted of theft, trespass, violation of a protective order, and duty to inform. He was trying to turn his life around after years of alcohol abuse, according to press reports, and had repaired relations with at least one of the victims, a family member, according to an advocate. In 2010, before he was paroled, Parker requested to be kept in prison in order to be better prepared for release, according to an Associated Press report. He lost his limbs due to frostbite and during surgery last week, lost more of his legs and had two collapsed lungs, due to the accident.

During the past few days, many in the homeless community and their advocates have been angered that the sidewalk– the shortest route between The Friendly Kitchen and North Main Street – has not been cleared. The night after the accident, numerous people grabbed shovels and began clearing the sidewalk themselves, according to a post on Facebook. The city, however, maintains that it is an Interstate highway system and should not be used by pedestrians even though there is a sidewalk there. The agreement with the city, as part of the site plan review, also states that the soup kitchen would work with the state to make sure the sidewalks were cleared.

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