IMMIGRATION POEM: In A Parent Idiocy

In a parent idiocy
Wee are tolled
The right
Thing to do
Is children
For sake
In wanting
To be a legitimate American
Leave your children behind
A crashing symbol
To not here
As freedom wrings
A bout effacing the music
A band in family values
Trump-it-ing
A minor problem
Into ruin U.S. racket
And those halving hearts crying
Whoa to those without!

This poem goes out to all those whose hearts are breaking because of Prez Donald Trump’s cruel policy of separating children from their parents when refugee families or immigrant families seek refuge in the United States of America. LOVE is a Traditional Family Value PEACE BUTTONHate Is Not A Family Value PEACE BUTTONThe Trump regime’s cruelty is matched only by their cowardice, making the grotesque claim that the law requires them to separate immigrant/refugee families, and even the absurd claim that the Trump policy is the Democrats’ fault. Their capacity to not take responsibility for their actions peers to no no bounds. This clarion cruelty may doom any Republican family values rhetoric for quiet awhile. Let family be a family value! Let’s rise up and end this cruel policy and work for refugee/immigrant polices characterized by compassion and generosity, not fear and xenophobia.

ANTI-TRUMP POSTER: Coward Tweet from Planet Trump – YOUR FIRED – Welcome to the hurling twittersphere

The Coward-in-Chief Donald Trump fires people with a tweet, never speaking with them or indicating why he fired them. I strongly suspect that any American employee would consider such a boss a coward and pathetic. We deserve better, America! Time to tell Prez Donald Trump, “YOU’RE FIRED!” We should tell it to his face and give him the long list of reasons. Though, please, avoid a hernia when carrying the reams of paper needed to enumerate the reasons for firing him.

Please feel free to share this ANTI-TRUMP POSTER: Coward Tweet from Planet Trump – YOUR FIRED – Welcome to the hurling twittersphere.

ANTI-TRUMP POSTER: Coward Tweet from Planet Trump - YOUR FIRED - Welcome to the hurling twittersphere

FREE MLK POSTER: Martin Luther King, Jr. Quote – TIMELESS and TIMELY Questions of Cowardice, Expediency, Vanity, and Conscience

As Martin Luther King Day approaches this year, I was struck by the timelessness and timeliness of this MLK quote: Cowardice asks, “Is it safe?” Expediency asks, “Is it politic?” Vanity asks, “Is it popular?” But Conscience asks, “Is it right?”

Please feel free to reflect upon this eternal wisdom and share this free MLK quote poster with friends and enemies alike.

MLK Quote - TIMELESS and TIMELY Questions of Cowardice, Expediency, Vanity, and Conscience

Cowardice asks, “Is it safe?” Expediency asks, “Is it politic?” Vanity asks, “Is it popular?” But Conscience asks, “Is it right?”

Feel free to browse more MLK posters and great quotes.

Martin Luther King, Jr. - Peace Justice Is It Just a Day Off?--Martin Luther King, Jr. POSTER

 

 

POEM: Liberal Mined Violent

Some liberal mined violent
Call up on pacifists
To condemn a brand of violence
To wit
They object
Ultimately subjected
To accost
Without benefit analysis
Coming efface to efface
With realty
And a sorted loved wons
Unwilling to accede where others have flailed
The brand they hide
Singularly fingered
Buy pacifists
Calling a tension two
A third weigh
Of the largesse possible
An unwelcome piece
When wanting more than have
Of everything fourth with
Ironying details
Ever beyond that which is a greed
How to saddle for less
Than being cowed
And truth be tolled
The violent
As a madder of practice
Get their weigh
A tempting feudal steer
Milking it for all a veil
In udder disbelief
As much as we can
Due better
Keeping nothing bottled up
Unleashing everything even remotely herd
Know longer listening
Too the artless
Like sum stock ticker
An engine only for the vain
Abase symbol for awe to hear
As the lover of awe kinds
Relinquishes the bully pulpit
In respect to those assembling
Not dissembling

Pacifists such as myself are sometimes called upon by those who are selectively violent to roundly and reliably condemn some violence that is repugnant to their preferred modes of violence.  PACIFIST - Someone With The Nutty Idea That Killing People Is Bad PEACE BUTTONThis convenient opportunism by “liberal mined” violent can hopefully serve as an opportunity for pacifist to draw connections and expose biased interests in enterprises that vainly wish to promote some kinds of violence and condemn other forms of violence, yet miraculously divorce means and ends and somehow produce a nonviolent state.  The situation that came to mind for me in this poem harkens back to the early 1980’s as a peacemongering student at Hope College.  I was asked by a conservative political science professor to serve as an expert witness in the campus’ mock United Nations proceedings.  Specifically, he was asking me to address violence by Palestinians against Israelis.  Much to his chagrin, I spoke about violence in the Israeli occupation of Palestine proportional to the violence present, that is, overwhelmingly committed by Israel and backed by the political and financial patronage of the United States.

Probably the largest complaint that apologists for violence have against pacifists is that they are “passivists,” complicit and enabling of injustices, specifically, and perhaps presumptuously, injustices that seem only solvable through violence, or at least the right “kind” of violence.  Complicity to violence and injustice is a profoundly true charge to both pacifists and apologists for violence.  Pacifism sets the bar high and regularly fails at fully fulfilling its high calling.  Feel free to contrast this limit of idealism (and its harms?) with the cynical acceptance (realism?) that killing others is necessary for justice (usually just us). If the notion and practice of necessary evil doesn’t make your head explode, it will quite assuredly shrink your heart, particularly if aspiring to follow a God of love.  I see Gandhi’s simple taxonomy of roles in the necessarily epic struggles for justice as insightful. Gandhi spoke of nonviolent “warriors,” violent warriors, and cowards.  I'm not a pacifist. I'm not that brave. Phil Donahue quote PEACE BUTTONHe saw these ordered in terms of moral achievement; the pacifist activist, then soldiers, and lastly, cowards. Of course, poorly performing pacifists can fall into the pit of fear and cowardice, unsuccessfully bridging the gap between talking the talk and walking the walk.  Soldiers have an inherent advantage in that a significant proportion can be expected to face death in combat situations.  This engenders a palpable sense of courage for facing such situations, whether, in fact, these situations are just or not.  Willingly facing being killed or severely harmed is the definition of courage. We can learn a lot from soldiers (not the least of which is that the most vehement anti-war activists are often veterans of military combat, sometimes simply slaughter). Courage is commendable.  Having skin in the game is the necessary good.  Any pacifist worth their salt will embody courage and skin in the game.  Evil, and its even uglier companion, necessary evil, can only thrive amidst cowardice and not having skin in the game.  Without courage, cowardice will rule the day (and night).  Without skin in the game, the privileged will continue to keep their foot on the neck of the disenfranchised, usually through a complex system of subcontracting not requiring their actual foot to do the dirty work.  A cowardly, distracted and narcotized public will earn an assist in maintaining their somewhat more advantageous state in the hierarchy of privilege and disenfranchisement.

Of course, the difference between a pacifist and a soldier is not the willingness to die for a cause, but the (un)willingness to kill for a cause.  The willingness to kill is the preeminent prerequisite of a soldier.  Object of War Not to Die for Your Country But Make Other Bastard Die for His -- General George Patton ANTI-WAR QUOTE BUTTONIn regard to willingly dying and willingly killing, perhaps the infamous WWII General George Patton said it best, “The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his.”  Further, in the calculus of soldiering, we must remember that in modern times (the last 100+ years), military combat has frighteningly consistently killed over ten noncombatants/civilians for every soldier killed.  By what stretch of imagination do “realists” consider this courageous and honorable?  The cowardice inherent in the proposition of necessary evil is the root of much evil in this world.  The fantasy of necessary evil is nothing short of an abnegation of responsibility, an idol worship of something other than the free will and moral agency of which we are endowed.

As a spiritual practice, I find pacifism, ruling out the killing of others, as a profoundly creative practice.  You may be surprised at the depths of creativity accessible by dispatching the human perversion called necessary evil and the barbaric practice of killing others.  Without presupposing limits on human goodness, you can unleash new experiments, pioneer new ground (sometimes observed as common ground), raise the heights to which humans may aspire, and make the world friendlier to love.  Nonviolence is Organized Love -- Joan Baez PEACE QUOTEAs Joan Baez so elegantly and succinctly said, “That’s all nonviolence is — organized love.”  Of course, my paraphrase would be: nonviolence is just, organized love…

 

POEM: Poetry From Afar

I once saw poetry from afar
Hopelessly afar
Its distance was too great to travel
That distance from the head to the heart
So I looked down
Still
My continuous, comfortable cowardice was overcome
By an irresistible force
My head swimming
My knees wobbling
I fell
Into what could never be described
As love
Which no tour guide can reproduce

Romney Campaign Bans Top Pun from Event

Today, the Mitt Romney campaign held a “victory” rally at the Seagate center in downtown Toledo, Ohio.  Top Pun ran into a mitt-full of cards as the Romney campaign drew a full house; but, as the rain fell, Top Pun declared victory is he drew a royal flush from the Romney campaign, being banned from the event even though possessing a ticket and a media pass.  As the rain fell, Romney supporters lined up two by two around their concrete ark, hoping to save themselves from extinction.  As the Romney-ites waded patiently to see their would-be monarch, I could tell by the many white faces that this wasn’t the servants entrance!  Of course, there were many tanned Romney-ites, but most seem to have vacationed South, or had a tad freaky spray-on or tanning booth tan — perhaps emulating their feckless leader.  Even given the many wet backs that were present, few would be mistaken for Latino.  The only African-Americans I saw near the Romney lineup were button and T-shirt vendors.

Of course, across the street, there was an anti-Romney protest that was much more colorful!  One protester even wrapped themselves in the flag, a gay pride flag, that is.  Not wishing to be restrained by the designated “free speech zone,” I protested outside the box.  I took the opportunity to walk back and forth on the sidewalk alongside the Romney lineup (with few unusual suspects), of course, with my signs:

The Romney crowd, perhaps not so surprisingly, responded with vitriol.  At one point I chanted, “Can someone give me a nice hello, and end of this ugly vitriol.”  One woman asked me if I even knew what a blind trust was.  I trust that she did.  Many in the Romney lineup told me to go to the other side of the street; I suppose in some attempt to keep like with like, and perhaps, hate with hate?!  As I walked up and down the so-called Romney side of the street, even a sheriff’s deputy told me to get on the other side of the street.  When I told him that I knew my rights, and that walking down the public sidewalk and not blocking the public sidewalk was simply exercising my free speech, the sheriff deputy responded: “Would you be walking along here if this were an Obama event?”  I told him that if this Romney event were not happening, that I would have been in Bowling Green protesting the Obama campaign event (likely with a drone and anti-war message).  He told me again that I could not be on the side of the street.  When I persisted in claiming my first amendment free speech right to be there, he said that I was becoming disorderly.  I turned and walked the other way, continuing to walk back and forth, but keeping an eye out for him and his comrades.  The saddest part of this encounter is that the sheriff deputy was apparently proscribing a particular type of free speech — like free speech depends on whether you support Romney, Obama, another, or nobody at all!

The most popular response from the Romney crowd was: “Get a job,” often with some ‘hippie’ or ‘cut-your-hair’ comment thrown in for good measure.  Occasionally, I responded with “I have a job; in fact, I am self-employed, I created my own job.”  Sometimes I might throw in “I even left a government job,” but nary a poker face yielded any approval.  Once, when a Romney-ite was particularly uncivil to me, and I requested that we at least be civil, a woman in the crowd showed approval.  I did experience two Romney-ites threatening violence.  The first was when I overheard a man say to the crowd, “Do you want me to beat up the hippie?”  I asked him if he was threatening violence to me and he said, “It’s an offer.”  The other person, a man, or perhaps man-wannabe, said “I’ll beat your face in.”  I asked him if he was threatening violence to me and he said, “Yes.”  I asked him if he’d like me to call law enforcement over and he said, “Yes.”  Well, his bully talk didn’t faze my walk.  Just goes to show, you can usually rely on the general cowardice of humankind (human-unkind?).

On this rainy day, God rained on the just and the unjust.  Most of the Romney-ites hugged the publicly financed Seagate center rationally seeking shelter so as to not tax their dry wits.  And, since the first shall be last and the last shall be first, I joined the Romney-ites, the end of a long line.  I had secured online the night before my ticket to the event   Being practically soaked to the bone, having paid my dews in the open streets, the ink was running on the ticket that I had printed out and the scanner failed to read it.  I was told to wait for a higher power.  What more irony could I ask for then cryptic ink running on a ruinous ticket.  Of course, not relying on serendipitous irony, I had brought a brown manila envelope containing my tax returns for the last 10 years (actually, which are heavily redacted blank sheets of paper).  Knowing that airport-like security was to be the order of the day, security personnel would likely ask me to open this envelope.  Then, I would respond that I was hoping that if I gave Mitt my tax returns then maybe he would give me his.  I knew that this would probably not be satisfactory, and my alleged tax returns would be declared a security threat and the irony would be complete!  In the meantime, while I was waiting for a boss-man’s stamp of approval for entrance, the young man with a scanner, the first line of security, saw that I had registered by name as “Top Pun,” and he asked me for some ID.  I showed him my media pass (shown below) and my driver’s license.  I told him that I was the soul proprietor of the business, that I wrote a blog, and that I was going to report on this event.  He asked me what kind of business it was.  I told him that I make things like buttons and T-shirts, pointing to my mission statement emblazoned on the media pass and business card, “Maximizing Prophets.”  He didn’t seem to have anything to say to this.  Just then, a man came out and said that the doors would be closed and locked, so if you wanted to get in, get in now.  The young man with a scanner tried to scan my ticket again and it worked!  I went through the two sets of doors and got in a short line for their main security check.  However, as I waited in the security line, another man told the dozen or so of us waiting at security that the fire marshal said they were full and we had to leave.  We went outside.  After a little while, someone came back out and said that we could go in again.  Again, I got in the security line.  Just as I had emptied my pockets and the woman at security asked about the brown manila envelope, a sheriff deputy called me back through the set of doors.  The sheriff deputy instructed me that the event organizers would not let me in their event.  There it was: I was officially uninvited from the Romney victory rally.  Be the change you want to see in the world.  Now, if we could only all get uninvited from a Romney victory rally…