Saturday, August 3, 2019

"Life Without You": Remembering George on his 65th Birthday...




Well, hello baby, tell me 
How have you been? 
We all have missed you 
And the way you grin 
The day is necessary 
Every now and then 
For souls to move on 
Given life back again 
Fly on, fly on 
Fly on my friend 
Go on, go on 
And live again, love again 

'Cause day after day 
Night after night 
Sittin' here singin' 
Every, every minute 
As the years go passin' by... 
A long look in the mirror 
We come face to face 
Wishin' our love 
We took for granted 
A love we had yesterday 

'Cause life without you
All the love, you've passed our way 
Angels have waited, for so long 
Now they have their way 
Take your place- 
Stevie Ray Vaughn



Happy 65th!
Miss you much... 
Love always, Donna

 "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread
till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: 
for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return,"
Genesis 3:19

Thursday, August 1, 2019

Insidious


"...And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger 
those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. 
And you will know my name is the Lord 
when I lay my vengeance upon thee, " 
--Ezekiel 25:17, "Jules," Pulp Fiction

You worked hard. You performed well. You were never late. You volunteered. You did the dirty work behind the scenes. You were prepared. You always exercised due diligence. You socialized. You promoted colleagues and their missions. 

You were a nice person if not the most extroverted. You did everything in your power , but fundamentally you did not belong. And when you tried to talk about feeling ostracized, you were met with “What's wrong this time?”

You started suffering health problems and chronic anxiety. You kept thinking though if you could just prove yourself, everything would be fine. It was just a matter of time until you were applauded and recognized for effort, honesty, and loyalty if nothing else. You would be one of them-almost. So you persisted.

But things only got worse. Your overall health continued to deteriorate. Your absences started to increase. You were conscientious, giving at least some advanced notice. Yet still you were considered sensitive, emotional, difficult, and even angry. It was as if you were being given an ultimatum to shut-up or leave.

Perhaps things would be better somewhere else? But they were omnipresent. The toxicity was pervasive and insidious. It was impossible to escape. Even then, where would you go: this was your home?

You finally realized nothing would change. Feeling like a failure, you resigned yourself to giving up-almost. You wanted to be accepted without changing who you were. Acceptance came at a price that you were not willing to pay.

Fear of retaliation and further isolation kept most of us compliant. After all, being part of an abusive relationship was better than being alone. We seemed to be hated for our very existence, having different opinions, values, perspectives, and experiences.

Then again perhaps it wasn't hate at all: it was more that they felt superior and therefore entitled. So you began experiencing hatred in response to the way they treated you—the way they marginalized, patronized, oppressed, exploited, and demeaned those of us deemed less. We didn't seem to matter. We were disposable.  We were invisible and colorless.

As Martin Luther King, Jr., once said, "Hate begets more hate," after all. Words have subtexts, definitions cannot adequately convey. Context is everything.




Friday, July 19, 2019

Aftermath


"What shall I do now? What shall I do?
I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street
With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?
What shall we ever do?
The hot water at ten.
And if it rains, a closed car at four.
And we shall play a game of chess,
Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door."
"The Wasteland," T.S. Eliott



"Where Do The Children Play,"
Yusuf Islam
(Cat Stevens)

Saturday, April 27, 2019

Black Knight Rising



It's not so much we would engage in conversation. It's the way the perp would look me up and down. I could feel his predatory gaze any time I entered a room. He would put his hands on me not in a polite,  respectful manner but more provocatively. He would make comments about my body: he told me I had "a nice ass."

I finally asked a good friend for advice. She thought his actions were deplorable but not surprising. The perp had made inappropriate comments to other women, too. My friend encouraged me to tell the Black Knight.

He was not amused. So we devised a plan of attack. When the hour of confrontation arrived, the tall, imposing figure dressed in black confidently approached, his near waist length hair tied-back and temporarily tamed. I said, "This is the guy I was telling you about."

At that very moment, all three of us knew. The Black Knight stared down the enemy and replied, "Nice to meet you, sir, " in that deep, quiet, calm voice of his. The perp nervously responded, "Nice to meet you, too," skulking then scurrying away in a hurry.

Because the perp was still out there somewhere lurking and lusting, I decided to tell one of the women "in charge." She said something like, "I'm glad you two handled it privately. No need to make a big deal of it."

So much for feminism in practice. We all need to do better. Black Knights shouldn't have to rise to save us damsels in distress.

Sunday, April 14, 2019

Little Southern Girl



Good Christian Soldier, 
In her best Sunday dress
Long blonde curls
Arranged in a
Pretty bow,
A Daughter of God. 

Jesus loves us
The Bible says
Unconditionally
We pray
The Lord will
Take and Keep
Our Souls.

Until the day
Innocence is lost
On the wrong side
Not clean and shiny
Not good enough
Not enough

For Jesus' love--
Compassion,
Forgiveness,
Tolerance--
A liturgical
"Song and Dance."

Little Southern girl,
Sunday-dressed and
Blonde hair flowing,
She leaves
Never to return
Except when
Bought and paid.


"Because I was born in a Christian culture,
I never considered myself to be totally 
free human being," James Baldwin.

"Bloodline,"
Matt Morris

Friday, April 12, 2019

"The Dark Day," William Carlos Williams



A three-day-long conference back east—
an interminable talking, talking
of no consequence — patter, patter, patter.
Off topic audience questions
inundate each speaker.
Bathroom. Hiding. Seclusion.
A few passers-by, stop outside the stall,
and still try to chat.
Lunch and dinner meetings! there is no escape! —
An interminable talking, talking,
talking… it has happened before.
And it will happen again.
William Carlos Williams


"Sabotage"
Beastie Boys