Political grenades
Are thrown from afar

From another direction
Come claims
That similar bombs
Are cast
Toward them

Will the center hold

We are living
On a political tilt-a-whirl
Exposed to unbelievable
Tosses and turns
Intended to throw us
To one side or the other

We are living
As though plagued
With a political psychosis
As though beset
With a political schizophrenia

Will the wheel slow
Will the center hold
Will our democracy continue
Or will the center fold

Pause
Start by awareness
What brightness exists around you
Give a welcome to this moment

Attend to yourself
Do your fingers feel thick or slender
Are your feet on the floor
How solid is your footing

Notice your breathing
Breath in and breath out
Count ten of these
Now another ten

As you return to your efforts
To pursue the tasks of the day

Turn out the lights
catch the night’s bequest

Train your eyes on the horizon
sunrise is approaching

Notice how blue is shading
from deep to pale

There are no shadows
Cast by the moon
Hiding behind the clouds

Sounds reverberate from
an airplane drifting
to a landing

Morning’s quiet
regains the stage

Until a Robin chirps
a wake-up call

Sunrise is approaching
advancing from east to west
lighting the sky

Rocks whiten to become obvious
against the pallid grass of winter
robbed of nutrition by the cold of January

No orb announces today
the sun is rising although hidden
behind dense condensation

The orange orb of the sun
will not flood the skyline

The fever of night
has become the pale of the day

To win every argument
Kindles feelings of triumph
Delight in obtaining a small victory

Thrills over getting the better
Of a friend, acquaintance or fellow-being

There is a warmth of self-satisfaction
Fueling persistence
To be correct
Regardless of fact or fiction

Simple daily discussions become
Debates, disputes and sparring
That must have only one outcome
You prevail!

There must be a winner
And it must be YOU

Each morning
He gathers
Those essential items
Left on the nightstand
Car keys, pill box,
jack-knife, and ball point pen

Pockets filled
With the necessities
For the day
He made a mental note
Find moments of stillness

Discover moments or places
To create a pause
Without sound
Or movement
Some short time
When he will inspect his
Surroundings
With noncritical awareness
Engage with the world
Like a wistful child
Who picks up a pebble
Rolls it over and over
Between his fingers
Studies it carefully
Before secreting it
In his pants pocket

During that moment of stillness
Perhaps he felt
Comfort oozing from
The stone or
Noticed the beauty
Gleaming at him
Reflecting the sunlight
Washing him with renewal

Surprise overcomes
Words seem nonsensical
Fact checks become
Daily headlines
Pure prevarication
Not mere vagueness
Untruths, shams
Two-faced attempts
To cheat to win
In a battle of ideas
Better still, flooding
Air-waves, all media
With bogus pre-text
That fend off
A battle
From ever being fought
Fabricated?
More than merely falsification
Calling truth a lie
Shout-downs over debate
A campaign designed to
Discredit, debunk and divide
* (back in the day we called this **** and bull)

Strong the desire to be unique  
To think in ways against the grain  
New, different is what to seek
Strong the desire to be unique
Courage to turn the other cheek
Be distinctive and never plain

Strong the desire to be unique  
To think in ways against the grain
Firm and willing to face critique  
Strong the desire to be unique  
At no time hesitant to speak
Only fly an orbital plane

Strong the desire to be unique  
To think in ways against the grain

* (Triolet Sonnet)