Ballroom

 

Ballroom

Nero fiddled as Rome was burning down
And Marie Antoinette, when told the plebes
Had no more bread and so were discontent,
Asked why they did not switch instead to cake.
 
The truth or falsity of tales like these
From long ago cannot, perhaps, be found,
But surely, we have heard of other words
The senseless ones have spoken in our times.
And some might well have paused on hearing these,
As others shrugged—or willingly agreed.
 
The saying “Walk a mile in another’s shoes
Before you judge him.” has its wisdom still.
It’s only when we’ve suffered or have seen 
How others suffer that we wake from dreams.
 
How much of hubris humans long have seen,
How much of shameless ignorance and greed!
How brief and transient, social memory!
How easily we’re led astray by lies!
 
******
 
I often wish a strategy were found
To place our “leaders”, with their “donors”, in
The village huts, the urban slums, the mines,
The sweatshops, ceaseless mills and factories—
 
And in the camps or fields where refugees 
Are huddled, drenched by rain and pierced by cold
Or scorched and parched by sun and heat. That’s where
The young and old can't sleep and even die 
From illnesses and burns and injuries, 
Or shock and trauma as the bombs explode,
While others still must live and carry on
And try to care for self and family—
  
While Trump extends his ballroom with delight.
 
******
 
It will be Christmas soon and some will feast
As others starve or wait in line for food,
While knowing they might well be killed for this
And add to tens of thousands killed before,
As others wish they’d died to join with these.
 
And here, within this homeland, Winter blows.
As subsidies for vital things subside,
Our migrant workers still are hunted prey
And every week we hear of people killed
In worse-than-pirate acts in southern seas.
  
Our glorious leader lacked in decency 
Throughout his public life and now exceeds
In words and actions all his past misdeeds.
He trumpets war and flings his falsehoods wild.
He orders murders and he issues threats,
As all that once was sacred lies defiled.
 
******
 
We now see golden glitter line the walls
Within the rooms so full of history,
With all their glories and their tragedies,
Where other leaders--each with virtue, vice--
Had made decisions, faulted though they were,
Maintaining still some shreds of dignity.
  
It is as if a mad cartoonist seized
Our works of art, revered, and drew on these
His mustaches and beards and penises,
And urinated then upon the canvases. 
 
2025 Dec 20, Sat.
Berkeley, California

Little Minds

Little Minds

Let us wander in the mountains,
Where the peaks are shining high
And the streams that run in valleys
Reflect the sun and sky.

Let us loiter by the ocean side
And look out to the sea,
Where the waves are racing landwards
To those like you and me.

The mountain does not know us.
The ocean heeds us not.
By neither are we needed—
Who will each be soon forgot.

With you and I forgotten
And all our strivings vain,
The peak will still be shining
And the wave will crash again.

******

And that is why it’s mindful
To climb up on the hill
And to walk beside the ocean,
So our little minds are still.

There’s a mind, that we are part of,
That in silence can be heard,
Though it does not know of language
And never speaks a word.
 
We can hear it if we listen
In the pauses of our thoughts,
As we learn to be accepting
That we’re each a string of naughts.

From nothing, we have risen—
And to nothing, we’ll subside.
We can joyfully embrace this—
Or, try, from this, to hide.

******

It is difficult for some of us,
Who strive to be the heroes,
To let go of their little minds
And realize they’re zeros.

So do not say these things to Trump
Or speak of this to Modi.
Make off, instead, with Donald’s pants—
Or run, with Naren’s dhoti.

They may try to hide their penises
And all the world may laugh—
And then perhaps they might perceive
Their little minds were chaff.

They might go then to the ocean
Or climb up on the hill—
And for once be no more needy,
As their little minds are still.

******

We once could see the starry sky
With its myriad specks of light.
We knew that we were nothing then
But now have lost that sight.

And so had kings and emperors
Who ruled in times now past.
Now even common folk forget
That none of us will last.

Let’s each release the little mind;
Breathe in, breathe out, be still—
So each can hear that ocean wave
And look out from that hill.

But being only mortals, we
May seek reminders, so
We need at times to see that sky
And hear that ocean roar.

2018 October 26th, Fri.
Brooklyn, New York