constructive or destructive - criticism’s delicate balance

Some cry climate change
Other's say they're deranged
As the conflict evolves
All our lives are involved
Who's right or who's wrong?
What's the difference?
What's the true future view,
Is there more we can do,
Before we become past tense?

We ask what, what of our children?
As they grow and we show them
A future with no guarantees
What, what of our children?
Why do they have to pay for
Our past generations' misdeeds?

There's so much confusion
Over lies and collusion
Years teaching them right
Lessons lost overnight
They see others lie with impunity
What's wrong becomes right
Simply blow out the light
Darkness perverts civility

We ask what, what of our children?
As they grow and we show them
A future with no guarantees.
What, what of our children?
Why do they have to pay for
Our past generations' misdeeds?

No!  What of our children?

What?  Why do you lie?
True science deny!
What of our children?

What?  Why do you fight?
Wrong becomes right!
What of our children?

What?  Why do you hate?
It's almost too late!
What of our children?

What of our children?
What of our ...?
What of ...?
What ...?
?

tragedies worldwide
flooding my senses daily...
fill my bag of tears

The older we are
The more invisible by far
We seem to the younger mind
But soon they will see
What's known by you and me
We're only immortal for a limited time

He's a stable smithy
Thinks his genius words are pithy
As he pounds, pounds, pounds
Into the night

Swings his big word-hammer
Never minding lies and grammar
Cuz he's gotta, gotta, gotta
Fuel the fight

With his bellowslike ire
He stokes the fire
As it burns, burns, burns
To his delight

On his huge word-anvil
Pounds rumor and scandal
As they sizzle, sizzle, sizzle
Burning bright

Hones his words untoward
Like a two-edged sword
As they stab, stab, stab
Like a knife

As his words extrude
They can get really rude
As he pushes, pushes, pushes
Wrong as right

He's a stable smithy
Thinks his genius words are pithy
As he pounds, pounds, pounds
With all his might

Why is there so much distrust,
Fueling hatred, malice and lust?

We're caught up in every scam's gust
Leaving many financially bust

Including telemarketers' thrusts
Continuously feeding disgust

We're riding social media's cusp
Allowing real friendships to rust

Causing us to constantly adjust
Leaving us completely nonplussed

Making too many tasks a must
Till we nigh spontaneously combust

Perhaps leaving God's Word thus,
On the shelf gathering dust

This matter needs to be sussed
Not with haphazard zeal but robust

By a brotherhood of people we can trust
With a worldwide campaign to discuss

Preventing impending zero-sum bust
Before we're all planetary dust

time marches forward
reality's fire consumes-
dreams go up in smoke

There once was a man who

Thought he was a man but

He wasn't a man

He was a...

(Dedicated to my Father, who was totally paralyzed
for 7 years before he died.)

I awake in the early morning darkness
Frozen, motionless, immobilized.
My eyes straining to see into the black void
Looking for any sign of my keepers
Listening for any kind of movement
Phantom images dart around me slowly at first,
Then multiple images spring from every direction
My heart racing, my breathing rapid and shallow,
Byproducts of fear and imagination
Running amok in the dark

My eyes focus on tiny lights incessantly blinking,
Reassuring my heart as the phantoms vanish
My ears register the intermittent beeps
And steady, determined droning
Of contraptions that populate my space,
Their sole purpose to prevent the outcome I crave

My nose catches whiffs of iodoform odor,
Penetrating, pungent, overpowering my sense of smell.
A cruel replacement for what once was
A weekly parade of fragrant flowers
That excited what few senses remain
The brightly colored blossoms
The sweet, fragrant smells
The delightful sizes and shapes
But the beautiful flowers have withered,
As concern for my plight has waned

I watch as the determined, dynamic sun
Deliberately dilutes the darkness,
Revealing the magical birth of a new day.
Is that delightful birdsong I hear?
The beeping and droning are maddening,
But I know there’s birdsong outside my window
I can’t wait until the moment arrives!

As if on cue my keeper appears
Busily going about her assigned tasks
My eyes following her every move
“And how are you doing today?” she asks,
Staring at me as if I could answer.
But I lie frozen, motionless, immobilized
In my mind I replay my daily reply:

"My existence is a never-ending cycle of
Penetrating. . . pungent. . . whiffs
Beep. . . blink. . . drone. . . beep
Blink. . . drone. . . beep, . . . blink
Drone. . . beep. . . blink. . . drone
Penetrating. . . pungent. . . whiffs
Dawn. . . daylight. . . twilight. . . night
Daylight. . . twilight. . . night. . . dawn
Twilight. . . night. . . dawn. . . daylight
Night. . . dawn. . . daylight. . .twilight
Penetrating. . . pungent. . . whiffs
Each boring minute an hour.
Each hateful hour a day.
Each wretched day a year.
Each torturous year a lifetime.
Ad nauseum. . .ad infinitum. . .ad mortem?"

Offering no response to my unspoken thoughts,
My keeper dutifully takes my vital signs,
Temperature, pulse, respiration, blood pressure,
Records the results, then walks to the window
My favorite time of day has arrived!
“We must open the window to freshen up your room.”
As the window opens my spirit soars, and my ears capture
The lovely birdsong, as well as other living sounds,
Along with a veritable potpourri of smells.
I can only imagine what is happening outside,
And I do imagine it as best I can

I close my eyes and try to make out each note,
Visualizing the source of each incredible sound,
Be it bird, animal, human, or otherwise
Who they are, what they look like,
What they’re doing, what they’re thinking,
The blinking, beeping, droning is finally drowned out!
With every breath, I savor each smell
And, with eyes closed, as I visualize
What’s happening in my mind’s eye,
A wonderful peace envelops me. . . comforts me

But, alas, this day will be crueler than most
Another keeper, a newer keeper, enters my room
“Oh, she’s fallen asleep” he whispers,
He closes the window, shuts the shades,
Then quietly leaves, shutting the door
I SCREAM A LOUD, LONG, PRIMAL SCREAM!
... in my mind
As I lie frozen, motionless, immobilized—   
Paralyzed