A Poem for this Holiday

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Happy Interdependence Day!
–Phil Wolfson
 
Karma is a useful concept – really:
Causation with indeterminate effects and consequences
That can be linked back
And forward to
the running ball of new causes produced
That explodes like the pellets of a shotgun
Moving into space
Yet always attaching to the
Befallen
And the what is to be
And the to me to be.
There really is not much control.
Take the myriad pieces that lead to Trump
The characters who play and played
Their own agendas and egos
The plow of profit
And the masters of profiting
The failure of true community
To overcome divisiveness and hate –
Still the great minority position:
Love is the answer for all
And so many choose limited, coterie love
And singularly feeding their faces.
 
Just back from Portugal.
Lovely people
Grooming to be tourist servants
Or Cuba,
Or the lucky ones in Mexico,
Etc.
Division into the serving and the served.
Mind you –
It is a good thing to be serving.
But not a good thing to have that as your only option.
 
This started off this morning
In the bitter twine of the liberated
Becoming the oppressive.
The slaves of Egypt
Finding no way but to enslave
Another people.
In karmic terms
Trace it back to the Nazis
And the determination to just survive in a harsh land
Of sand and Arabs
Cultures there – who knew them?
Save from an ancient yarn.
 
Or our vaunted revolution
Where did it go?
The great constitution’s malleability
Hammered
Being hammered to serve
We can see who.
We have lost our dross
In the outer world
People come here to get away from what is worse there
And to have the opportunity to buy cars.
Vets coming home are not just
Suiciding from their losses
But also from the confusion
Of what is real and true – meaning–
Whose interests did they really serve?
What are footholds now into love and comradery.
 
Liberating masters
Too often become
The next problem.
So many to choose from
The Stalins, Maos, Mugabes
From the Left;
The Mussolinis, Hitlers, Berlusconis
Now Trumps from the Right –
All posing as saviors.
So few turn out –
Mandela seems unique.
 
So here we are again.
July 4th is just not the same.
 
Peace, justice, respect and love
May that great independence bell toll!
May there be a renewal
A renaissance of value.
It would be lovely to celebrate
Wouldn’t it?

5 thoughts on “A Poem for this Holiday

  1. In solidarity with all oppressed people everywhere we can celebrate our survival. Ain’t nobody goin’ to bring me down.

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