Love is patient Love is kind It does not envy It does not boast It is not proud It does not dishonor others It is not self-seeking It is not easily angered It keeps no record of wrongs Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth, it Always protects Always trusts Always hopes Always perseveres.
1 Corinthians 13 is endlessly quoted, and endlessly ignored by those espousing to be people of God.
I wish… for bygone days when folks put families first Not jobs Not climbing a corporate ladder Not competing with the Jones for bigger homes, better cars, smarter kids.
I wish… for sublime satisfaction thru the experience of God’s creation Not from computers & video games Nor TV & movies smart phones or social media.
I wish… that people did not suffer When their jobs become obsolete outsourced, redesigned, or restructured. When they are pressed into conflicts in their cities, states, or countries For the sake of another’s perceived privilege or personal gain.
But the Genie is out of the bottle…* Set free by wasted wishes Carelessly contrived Without lasting purpose or value
You are a brilliant patchwork of people wearing their imperfections with pride not ashamed to be different
Like a jagged concrete and glass tiara surrounding an emerald heart you are both lush and cold in synch
At once soothing and stimulating is the rhythmic rocking of your subways punctuated by the occasional discordant screech of metal on metal.
You are an assault of sight, smell, and sound on the senses, each vying to be noticed by indifferent passers-by artful store windows pungent aromas from curb-side kiosks and rap, rock, or classical as performed by wandering minstrels
Where else can individuality be noticed among the teeming masses or the lofty and lowly stand side by side without thought of social status?
Where else can one get lost in the crowd yet still be an integral part of the whole or be down then uplifted by the energy of the streets?
New York City you are where the impossible becomes inevitable and incongruent parts come together in a symphony of humanity and culture.
New York City you inspire both love and hate but never indifference!
Remember your First Dance? the Anticipation and Uncertainty the Painstaking Preparation of clothes and coif wanting to Stand-out but Afraid of Rejection Hoping your favorite song might be played Praying that your Secret Love will dance with you.
And when all these Desires have been Fulfilled the First Touch of hand on hand is Electric body Pressed on body Rocking to music more Felt than heard with Every Sense Inflamed and Longing.
……but then the Spell Breaks with the Last note, Leaving each Wanting More.
Your First Dance has ended.... but the Dance that is Youth has just begun.
Down the day and down my mood Time passed away but not to good I walked and wandered No where to go I sought and searched No one to know When for No reason a child smiled at me Her face alight with some hidden glee That’s all it took to cease my moping Sweet smile, Precious look, Restored my hoping!
Salted sweetness and sticky smoothness are sensations that fill my mouth with memories of briny beaches on a summer’s day and muddy little hands, gripping a sandwich while teeter-tottering with elated abandon.
Plastic Jesus on dashboards and in celluloids Expressionless face Mouthing great wisdom in monotone Hanging from a cross of suffering As if in peaceful slumber Heart and soul of passion Displayed emotionless Written words a Weak reflection of His true meaning
This is not my Lord and my God Who is great Beyond depiction This is not His message Which overflows human language
When will creation accept it was born of God’s Vision and Not the other way around?
Between Black and White Right and Wrong War and Peace lies the Gray zone the Blurred line Middle ground Limbo
No boundaries between Good and Evil Moral and Amoral Thin ice and Solid ground
No safety net to prevent slipping into extremes No caution signs or flashing lights to guide our steps
We live and die in a Fairy tale with alternate endings penned by Politicians Media moguls and Religious fanatics who Convince us to Choose from a stacked deck to Win a fixed game Compliment us on our finery tho we are threadbare or *****
We live in the land of the free where the Rule of law applies only to commoners Opportunity comes with a price few can afford and Everyone has the Right to work and the Right to be exploited
You might be dwelling in the kingdom of surreality if….
Conflicting images are presented as harmonious Opposites are blended to form bland Ugliness is sugar-coated and swallowed whole Love and passion interfere with success.
Fever-flushed children and Broken bodies Litter hospital halls like so much Human refuse ….Wondering why their need for care is treated so tepidly by a Society which worships Profits Power and Prestige ….Waiting while they wallow in anguish as Privacy Paperwork and Payment are Debated by bureaucrats in cubicles ….Wanting to be refreshed and restored to some measure of usefulness ….But Free to Pursue Life on their terms in exchange for Silence Acceptance and Despair
Huddling for warmth and in Fear of discovery they assemble in rag-tag formation having scaled formidable fences Seeking freedom from Poverty and oppression Searching for work of any sort ….No matter how Humiliating or Hard ….No matter the Cost or Conditions Disparaged and despised they labor in hope that their children will have a chance for success instead of suffering a similar fate …..But Free to Pursue Liberty in a land where their presence is Ignored if not Denied
Unkempt in camouflage One-legged and Vacant-eyed he rolls his rickety wheelchair along grassy median with muted effort displaying cardboard sign childishly scripted in one weather-worn and gnarled hand while clutching a decapitated jug in the other Forgotten Forlorn, and Discarded veteran Victimized far more by country than foe ….But Free to Pursue Happiness while Begging on street corners as Upright citizens dispense Unwelcome opinions or Pocket change with equal Self-righteousness
Life Liberty and the Pursuit of happiness…. Ideals that slowly incinerate on the Altar of Capitalism ….Songs forever lost in the Cacophony now Played on the Instrument of Politics