The Path to Liberation

They say the path to liberation

Leads through valleys of utter despair

And over peaks of glorious wonder.

If you risk the journey, beware.

Our thoughts don't always reflect reality;

To us an idea that clearly seems

So real and permanent is really ephemeral

And creatively sculpted from notions and dreams.

  

Such thoughts can tantalize or torment us,

Depending on our state of mind

Or how attached we are to ideas

And concepts that we've proudly enshrined.

That which lasts--that which endures--

Remains utterly beyond our ken.

If we are lucky, flashes of awareness

Illuminate us now and then.

Are our questions superficial,

Or do they sink beneath our skin

To penetrate our bones and marrow

And deeply resonate therein?

Gratitude flows from every pore

As we glide along on a goalless goal.

An inner calm pervades our being

When we release the illusion of control.

We catch a glimpse of truly knowing.

Clouds of doubt that blocked the light

Shift, and we are bathed in the radiance

Of something inconceivably bright.

Part of us dies, but something's reborn.

We see through Illusions, passions, and lies.

Divested of our strong attachments,

We see the world through different eyes.

The path we've sought is under our feet;

There's nothing mysterious--nothing arcane.

We lose our selves and find ourselves,

And we find that there's nothing we need to attain.

(1-12-15) By Bob B

Solidarity

For years workers fought

For safe working conditions

Despite ruthless resistance

And uncaring politicians.

The fight for reasonable hours

Of work was also a goal.

Workers developed a voice

Which gave them greater control.

The struggle for better wages--

One more of the workers' priorities--

Pitted many workers

Against unsupportive authorities.

Conscientious workers

United to produce

Laws that affected child labor

And protected us from abuse.

The diligence of American labor

Helped make our nation strong.

To deny workers their rights

Is not only thoughtless, it's wrong.

To extirpate rights of workers

Out of envy, disdain, or mistrust

Weakens the rights of the people

And sustains the cause of the unjust.

American workers deserve

To be honored and respected

And not to be tromped on like doormats

Or to be mistreated or neglected.

People are not objects

To be used and cast aside.

We all have our rights;

We also have our pride.

If we march united--

Together in solidarity--

We'll preserve our freedom

For now and for posterity.

By Bob B (1-9-15)

Granny in Her Four-Wheel Drive

Caught out in a deadly blizzard,

We thought the end was near.

Experiencing zero percent visibility

And insurmountable fear,

We pictured our helpless, frozen bodies--

Icicles à la mode--

When rescue vehicles finally found us

Next to a country road.

Having lost all sense of direction--
In total disorientation--

We considered all of our options

With mounting trepidation.

Suddenly two lights appeared

In our rear-view mirror.

What a sigh of relief we breathed

As a truck got nearer!

Try to stay calm. Do not panic.

Land sakes alive!

There she was to save the day:

Granny in her four-wheel drive.

Hank and June were expecting a child

During a storm one spring.

To make matters worse, Hank had been injured--

His arm was in a sling.

June said, "Oh, oh. Baby's comin',"

And Hank started to panic.

"The roads are flooded and the bridges are down!"

Cried the desperate mechanic.

"Besides, I couldn't drive the stick

In my current condition

Even if the roads were good.

What's that? An apparition?"

Through the rain-streaked window Hank

Could see some flashing lights.

Granny was there in her trusty truck,

Repeatedly flashing her brights.

Try to stay calm. Do not panic.

Land sakes alive!

There she was to save the day:

Granny in her four-wheel drive.

There's a legend on the prairie.

You hear it far and wide.

You can believe the story or not.

Whatever. You decide.

As a monster storm approached

A small Midwestern town,

Swirling clouds indicated

A tornado had touched down.

Granny jumped into her truck

Without a shred of concern,

And driving toward the twister past

The point of no return,

She raced into the monster dead on--

Talk about courage and pluck!--

And knocked that twister to smithereens

With hardly a scratch on her truck!

Try to stay calm. Do not panic.

Land sakes alive!

There she was to save the day:

Granny in her four-wheel drive.

Whenever we find ourselves in a bind

And wonder how we'll survive,

We think about Granny coming to the rescue

In her four-wheel drive.

By Bob B (1-5-15)

Galileo

Galileo Galilei--

Physicist, mathematician,

Astronomer, philosopher--

You angered the Roman Inquisition

And later the Pope and Jesuits as well.

Your scientific observation

That the earth moves around the sun

Was considered a heretical revelation!

Spreading ideas "contrary to scripture"--

A risky endeavor and path to take--

Guaranteed life imprisonment

Or a gruesome burning at the stake.

Under pressure you recanted:

"The earth doesn't move around the sun."

They say that under your breath you muttered,

"And yet it moves." You lost, yet won.

Though you lived under house arrest

For years until the day you died,

Your scientific contributions

To benefit mankind cannot be denied.

It's sad when dogma and ignorance attempt

To force dissenters into compliance.

It's sadder yet that in this century

Too many people still ignore science.

Our thoughts aren't shaped from cookie cutters;

Beliefs don't all fit the same mold.

Praise to the thinkers who soar to great heights

And break authority's stranglehold.

Praise to those who dare to defy

Petrified positions or views--

Who challenge our mind-set and open our eyes

To truth and awareness, despite jeers and boos.

(12-28-14) By Bob B

Santa Caught Speeding?

Christmas Day! It's hot off the press.

I cannot believe what I am reading.

There in bold headlines and all in caps:

SANTA CLAUS PULLED OVER FOR SPEEDING!

Is it possible for Santa's sleigh

To exceed the maximum miles per hour?

Might that have a little to do

With all of his horse-…or reindeer-power?

The policeman asked for his driver's license.

A driver's license for Santa? What gives?

Don't cops know that such trivialities

Are unnecessary where Santa lives?

What about vehicle registration?

Also missing on Santa's person.

"Oh, oh," I thought. "He's going to have problems."

But keep on reading: things only worsen.

When asked if the red in his cheeks resulted

From tipping the bottle, Santa said, "Stop.

You must be kidding, for you ought to know

That Santa has NEVER touched a drop."

The policeman asked him to walk a straight line.

Shaking with laughter, the plump man replied,

"I can't EVEN see my feet.

I couldn't walk a straight line if I tried!"

The cop threatened to search the sleigh,

Which, Santa said, would be all right.

"But once you start," he added with a  grin,

"You'll find it's going to take you all night."

A witness heard Santa quietly mutter,

"It wasn't such a good idea

To take that alternate route. Good grief!

Where have I landed? In North Korea?

You know, you're putting me way behind schedule.

If I don't hurry, I'll be in big trouble."

Santa pleaded with the man in uniform,

"I need to get going on the double."

So Santa got off with only a warning.

We're lucky he wasn't hauled off to jail,

Which would have forced Mrs. Claus

To have to come up with money for bail.

(12-25-14)

"Gee Whiz! Santa Sucks!"

"Mommy says that Santa won't be visiting this year.

She says it is because I have been bad.

She always seems so angry and upset 'bout everything.

She always says, 'I'm going to tell your dad.'

"Just because I broke my sister's iPad yesterday:

I only wished to see if it could float.

And then I blew it once again when we all horsed around

And I spilled grape juice on her favorite coat.

"Last week I broke Mommy's Royal Copenhagen plates.

She said to me, 'That really takes the cake!'

But I don't understand because she didn't even use them.

It's stupid to collect things that can break!

"A month ago my daddy bought a brand new fancy car--

The old one, he said, was 'obsolete.'

Boy he really blew his stack one day when he found

My chocolate candy melting on the seat.

"My brother had a new flat-screen TV in his room.

He proudly called it 'state of the art.'

I kind of knocked it over, though, while playing with my friend.

Yeah, I know:  I wasn't being smart.

"If Santa has been watching me my chances will be slim

Of getting that expensive baseball glove.

But if you ask me, I think that it really sucks that Santa

Does NOT believe in unconditional love!

"I'm the victim here, you see. That is what I am.

I try to my best year after year.

If Santa wants to play that way I hope he gets my message:

Tell him he can stick it in his ear!

Yep!

Tell him he can stick it in his ear."

(12-22-14) By Bob B

¡Viva Cuba!

Ah, Cuba--cousin of the Americas--

Estrangement really does you no good.

Unless our worlds can come together,

You'll keep being misunderstood.

Vibrant land of son and mambo,

Habanera, rumba and danzón,

Let your music and your spirit

Conquer fears that are overblown.

Moros y cristianos… ¡Caramba!

Yuca, ajo, cebolla: Divine!

Your culinary flavors thrill me:

Just one taste, and I'm on cloud nine!

With Vietnam and China we gladly

Swept past differences under the rug

And established diplomatic relations

With little resistance and barely a shrug.

To you we turned our backs and let

Our differences fester and further divide us.

When we cave in to spite and resentment,

We can't see how hard feelings misguide us.

As unnecessary barriers fall,

Let's open up travel and trade

And end the ineffective embargo--

A punitive measure and worthless charade

That hurts only the people and not

The Communist government that we mistrust.

The PEOPLE are Cuba--NOT the Castros;

That is a point to remember--a must!

And so, Cuba--cousin of the Americas--

Let's be optimistic and hope

That major changes and better relations

Lie completely within our scope.

By Bob B (12-19-14)

Madness Has No Holiday Spirit

Madness Has No Holiday Spirit

By Bob B (12-17-14)

Our holidays here are no guarantee

That sadness and suffering will not pay a visit

To some part of this mixed-up world.

It's incomprehensible. Tell me, what is it

That drives killers to massacre children

At a school in Pakistan? Can't we expect

Our schools to provide a haven of safety

That murder and violence cannot infect?

Two years ago at Sandy Hook

A slaughter occurred for a different reason.

Madness cruelly and completely ignores

The spirit of any holiday season.

The mind obsessed with revenge is dangerous--

So is the mind poisoned with rules,

Haughty morals and warped "truths"

That cater a dastardly feast for fools.

Does irrationality rule the world?

Explanations seem a futility.

Kindness, goodness, and fairness must balance

With crazed minds and hateful hostility.

Safety itself is an illusion--

A wished-for notion; a deceptive disguise;

A mental construct that placates the hopeful,

Tricks the unwary, deludes the unwise.

When religion stifles and doesn't expand

And open the seeker's heart and mind,

The world becomes a hollow place--

Scary and threatening, cold and unkind.

By Bob B (12-17-14)

What Else Is New?

Strum your guitar and sing along!...

When the Republicans control our Congress,

What will that portend?

Good news for the rich; bad for the poor.

What else is new, my friend?

We hope that our leaders support the people.

Of course, that will depend

On how much YOU "support" your leaders.

What else is new, my friend?

It's sad how people use their religion

To allow them to defend

Their right to take away rights from others.

What else is new, my friend?

To avoid a government shutdown some members

Of Congress will not bend

From socking it to the hard-working people.

What else is new, my friend?

People point out that our economy

Is certainly on the mend.

Of course, the President receives no credit.

What else is new, my friend?

The damage that Congress can do to the people

Is hard to comprehend.

But they've screwed us before and they'll do it again.

What else is new, my friend?

To help maintain our infrastructure,

That means we have to spend.

To some people that's anathema.

What else is new, my friend?

Apathy among the American voters

Is a continuing trend.

No wonder we’re stuck with numbskulls in Congress!

What else is new, my friend?

A man over there holds a sign that says

The world is going to end.

That's been said for 2,000 years.

What else is new, my friend?

What else is new?

What else is new?

What else is new, my friend?

By Bob B (12-12-14)

Incredible!

It's amazing how many people respond

To something right before their eyes,

And instead of believing the ugly truth,

They choose to believe in a litany of lies.

When torture's no longer an act of depravity

But a tactic that people support and condone,

Our moral standing in the world suffers.

That's something we ought to bemoan.

The mistreatment of people and the cruel infliction

Of pain on prisoners aren't petty slights.

Can we hold others to higher standards

If WE don't respect human rights?

Some say the times call for desperate measures.

That's a cop out--a rationalization!

Or "Terrorists themselves are brutal and cruel":

Another excuse; an absurd incantation.

In dealing with terrorists who would do us harm,

Humane standards must preside;

Otherwise, our character becomes

Less like Jekyll and more like Hyde.

Torture is not a thing to gloss over.

It's NOT a tactic the media should make light of.

A strict adherence to honor and values

Is a goal that we should never lose sight of.

Do you ever wonder who sits around

And designs the techniques of torture that we see?

I don't know, but whoever it is

Has to be a sick S-O-B.

By Bob B (12-11-14)

Call It What It Is

Step right up, folks!

Take a look around.

See all the strategies

Your CIA has found

To help "protect" you;

To make you feel safe.

They don't worry

If their tactics make you chafe.

The Senate Intelligence

Committee Report

Mentions waterboarding,

And, NO, it's not a sport.

Sleep deprivation--

Does that really work?

It wouldn't take long

Before you went berserk.

Rectal re-hydration

Doesn't sound like fun.

It sounds like an enema

With a water gun.

Ice baths--brrr!--

In zero degrees.

Try to imagine

That brain freeze!

Isolation rooms!

Trouble would impend

After being locked there

For days on end.

Small box confinement--

That would cause some grief.

You couldn't even stretch out

To get some relief.

How about being

Slammed against the wall

Or threatened with death

Until you start to bawl?

Each "enhanced

Interrogation technique"

Causes pain and suffering

And sounds pretty bleak.

Let's just call them

What they really are:

They're all forms of torture

And they go too far.

There appears to be no evidence

From connecting all the dots

That the tactics stopped

Imminent plots.

I thought that we

Were better than that.

All attempts to justify

Such tactics fall flat.

We have the right to protest--

The right to make a fuss.

I guess more laws are needed

To protect us from us.

By Bob B (12-9-14)

Questions

If someone dies from an ILLEGAL chokehold

At the hands of the police,

Shouldn't the policeman responsible stand

Before a justice of the peace?

If a man is brought down by an illegal chokehold--

The use of excessive force--

Is that an act that we as Americans

Can rightfully endorse?

If the police suspected that you were selling

Untaxed cigarettes, too,

Do you think they'd also rough you up

And apply a chokehold on you?

Regarding the death of Eric Garner,

Was brutal force the cause,

Or was his death, as Rand Paul suggests,

Due to taxation laws?

If someone causes another's death

Does he deserve immunity?

Or better yet should he have

A license to kill with impunity?

Isn't it ironic that a man is killed

When stopped by the police for selling

Untaxed or unlicensed cigarettes--

Hardly that compelling!--

And yet there are hundreds of thousands of people

Who every year resist

Paying the appropriate taxes they owe,

And they get a slap on the wrist?

No country's perfect, but shouldn't we still

Seek a means whereby

We can perfect our current system?

Shouldn't we even try?

By Bob B (12-4-14)

Spin Masters

It's a shame how the right-wing news

Takes a current event

And twists and spins the story

In efforts to misrepresent

The true motives behind

People's protestations.

Instead, the commentators

Spew rank accusations.

A case in point is Ferguson.

The Fox News spin denies

Existing systemic injustice.

My! What a surprise!

“Grievance industry leaders,”

“Racial racketeers,”

And “racial arsonists” are spreading

“Propaganda” and fears.

Such a spin on the issue

Ignores the problems at hand,

And the disenfranchised people

Remain in no man's land.

Anything to deflect

The viewers from the truth…

To see through the crafty tactics

Doesn't require a sleuth.

To ignore the people's expression

Of frustration, anger, and grief,

And to call it "victim mentality"

Is utterly beyond belief.

Granted, there have been troublemakers

Who've deviated from the path

Of peaceful demonstration

And incurred the people's wrath.

Vandalism and looting

Are wrong; but let's not forget

That issues of inequality

Have not been solved as yet.

Instead of feeding its viewers

Gossip and mindless chatter,

Fox News should focus on facts

And real situations that matter.

By Bob B (12-3-14)

Black Friday Madness

At five a.m. the doors swing open.

The throng of shoppers lined up at the store

Pushes and shoves and jabs and elbows

Its aggressive way through the wide-open door.

Once inside, the crowd scatters

This way, that way, in chaotic motion.

The store clerks gasp, feeling like islands

Surrounded by a raging ocean.

"Oh, no you don’t!" one woman shouts

At another woman clutching a box

Containing the last flat-screen TV.

"Hands off; it's mine!" the other one squawks.

A mad tug-o'-war ensues

As the two women grapple to claim what's theirs.

An onlooker who is knocked down in the skirmish

Shrieks, "What a sorry state of affairs!"

All through the store, items are flying.

The store resembles the scene of a battle,

OR, perhaps, a giant herd

Of loud, thundering, angry cattle.

A man stops to pick up something

He dropped--perfume, a gift for his wife--

And is trampled by the surge of shoppers.

The poor guy nearly loses his life.

One bold shopper with her canister of pepper spray

Threatens to douse the belligerent crowd

Until she is tackled by security guards

And is escorted away, cursing out loud.

Announcements blare from the loudspeakers:

"Shoppers' special on aisle three."

Suddenly, the rivers of shoppers change course

As the curious hope to get something free.

In the background, Christmas carols playing

The hopeful messages of joy and peace

Are drowned out by the ear-piercing din

That sounds like the honking of thousands of geese.

"I want my mommy," a whiny child cries.

"What do you want for Christmas: a dolly?"

Asks Santa, losing his last bit of patience

And doing his best to try to act jolly.

The chaos never ceases to wane

As the shoppers vie for the best shopping deals.

One man rushing to grab the last smart phone

Slips and falls head over heels

And slides into an obese grandma,

Sending her sprawling into some shelves

Of decorations, all of which go flying.

The injured lie covered with reindeer and elves.

Endless lines at the registers await

The exhausted shoppers. You're closer. Hurrah!

The woman in front of you then needs a price check.

No, that can't be! That's the last straw!

Another day of Black Friday madness.

Would that it could be over! But no.

You've barely started; that's store number one.

You have four more stores to go!

(11-30-14) By Bob B

Identity Crisis?

Are we facing an identity crisis?

America has some soul-searching to do.

Our land of diversity must reexamine

Itself from multiple points of view.

Recent protests in Ferguson, Missouri,

And across our vast country all show

That ignoring the needs of the people creates

A powder keg that eventually will blow.

The unrest is not about one incident:

A policeman's shooting of Michael Brown.

We must examine the larger picture

To see what it is that's weighing us down.

Too often we allow problems to fester

Instead of lightening the heavy load

By addressing important matters directly

Before they dangerously explode.

Minimizing issues of human rights

Won't make problems disappear.

Injustice and inequality have continued

To plague our country year after year.

Are we so caught up in our little lives,

Limited by rumors and petty complaints,

That we're unable to hear the cries

Of those who are burdened by society's constraints?

Are we isolated in our busy worlds,

Seeing but NOT paying attention

Because of indifference? Our lack of caring

Leads to greater misapprehension.

Perpetuating myths, applying labels,

And prejudging others on each person's part

Will keep our country from moving forward.

Efforts to change must come from the heart.

A hardy, earnest, honest dialogue

With innovative suggestions for change

And our desire to work together

Should not be completely out of our range.

The road to freedom has potholes and bends;

Lest moving forward get out of control,

The road must be kept in good repair

And we MUST keep our eyes on our goal.

When we ask ourselves who we are,

What is the answer? You make the call.

Are we a nation with privileges for some,

Or a nation with liberty and justice for all?

By Bob B (11-28-14)

Substance and Style (A Song)

Substance and style!

Please give me

Substance and style.

Where would we be without

Substance and style?

What a great goal!

It's something that I'll

Strive to achieve--

I hope without guile.

I'll even walk

That extra mile

For a balance of substance and style!

Substance without style

Falls flat on the spot.

It's colorless and lifeless,

And it happens a lot.

You can observe it

In all types of art.

The critics just love

To tear it apart.

Substance without style

Numbs the senses;

It's one of art's

Major offenses.

It's plodding, vapid,

Shoddy and cheap.

AND what's more,

It puts you to sleep.

(Refrain)

Substance and style….

Style without substance

Suggests that there's flair,

But since there's no substance,

There's not much else there.

It's sequins and fluff--

A simple façade.

Its raison d'être

Is just to defraud.

Style without substance

Bores us as well.

Pretentious and phony,

It sounds the death knell.

Artists beware:

Stay out of the trap.

And don't come crying

If your work is crap.

(Refrain)

Substance and style….

Substance and style,

When balanced correctly

With grace and finesse

And circumspectly,

Will give your creation

The oomph it should need

To capture your audience.

Therefore, take heed.

Substance and style

Should stimulate the brain,

Titillate the senses,

And, yes, entertain.

Let's hope we encounter

At least once in a while

A work that has

Substance and style!

(Refrain)

Substance and style….

By Bob B (11-24-14)