Poems Say Things

    Yes, obvious, no?

    Yeah, poetry.

    It does not have notes

    Like the elegiac songs of past and present

    That so many memorize and cherish.

    Some poems go tossed and waylaid

    Like forgotten seeds, lost, that never make it to the good earth or eventual fruit.

    They wither and die.

    Their molecules convert into other elements, some day creating another 

    Substance 

    For us to chew on.

    Masticate.

    Suck on, sometimes swallow, or at times spew.

    Wherever those substances go...

    Back into poetry, 

    And here we are.

 The Pessimist's Poem

    She is tired of me

    She is bored with me

    I offend her

    I don't inspire her

    She is sick of me

    She wants to escape

    Go to other countries

    Other streets, other homes

    Places without me.

    She used to like me more

    I lost something

    We lost something

    I eroded away

    I am not who I was

    Or maybe I never was who I thought I was

    Who she thought I could be

    

    She loves God,

    She loves Jesus

    She knows that they love her unconditionally 

    But I am far from, and have a harder time accessing that Perfect Grace

    I am far from

    I try, I step, I move, but likely not fast enough

    Not steady enough

    I try, but likely not hard enough.

    Not enough.

    She dislikes all that

    And I will try.

    But only God can help us.

    And that is my prayer,

    

    Even as a pessimist.

    However, I am not a pessimist, truly,

    I am a realist and an optimist.

    Who am I?

    All of the above

    None of the above

    I am me most of the times 

    But not always

    Not always constant

    Not always the same

    Changing

    Cambiante, in Spanish

    A language of many cultures that I know decently well

    

    For a gringo

    Gringo, not tonto.

    Tonto, not imbecil.

    But realistically, I should be more optimistic.

    Yes, I should be.

    Yet, I always love her.

    That does not change.

   

    I love the Father and His Son, too.

    We pray for their Spirit. Always.

    And love. And Kindness. And mercy.

    Those are always there.

 The Bloomington Young Single Adult Branch

    Some people look through prisms of people and social structure primarily through race. That can be indicative of many things that are true and real. Racial composition can have its own culture and power dynamics. The YSA Branch that I became a member of had a minority of minorities. Most of us were white, Caucasian Americans, citizens of the United States. 

    For what I remember in the 1997 to 1999 time frame in our group of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we had two African-Americans, two Latinos (three if we counted a young lady moving out), and a couple East Asians. The Black members were a young lady doing her masters at IU, from Chicago. Darxavia. I think I spelled it right. Another was Tsombe Masala, based out of Indianapolis, whose family from Congo had joined the Church around the time the second manifesto, when blacks were granted permission or access to the priesthood. We had a young lady from Czech Republic. Anyone else international? Not too much. Many from Utah, for sure. Caitlin Shirts, but many from Indiana, too. Tara Tripple. She married Chris Arick. 

    Real names. Have we protected the people enough by the amount of time passed? Kaaren from Washington State. Megan from Alabama. Kristin from Las Vegas, Nevada. The Hawkins from Oregon. The young lady violinist or violist from Colorado.

    We had some local folks, like the Taysoms. And others. The Potits. Me, returning from the Inter-Mountain West. Nichols, and Snyder. Oh, I had forgotten about a couple. Like the dark haired girl. Likely from Indiana.

    Other ways to divide or categorize us is by education, socioeconomic status, gender, orientation, level of faith of commitment, native to Indiana as students, intelligence native to us (genius, average, slow), and age. And cities or states or countries of origin. Experience, like serving missions.

    Sal Mendez, and others. Sandy Padron. Rhea LeMaster and Liz Wood. Jared Asay and Trevor Irwin.

    Oh, those times. David Hawkins. David?

 Of Course We Want Better Economic Power

    I do not blame Marxists and socialists who want to make the lives of those who live in the society to have better outcomes, more money and power for the workers, the labors, what they call the proletariat. But, it is the notion of only one party being the answer that seems inherently wrong, unfair, misguided.

    We need to be able to choose; we as citizens have rights that cannot be trampled by the government. Therefore, democratic institutions and republics as much of the Western world has designed and established are the more fair part. However, the Western world and all its sovereign governments are far from perfect. Nothing is totally great, ever.

    Poverty is still a problem in the most powerful and affluent nations. Some people never are able to overcome their economic plights. They wallow in financial morasses, as it were.

    How do we help more people be more solvent, successful, have access to money and resources that all of us desire?

    You tell me. Is it socialism? Should we allow free parties to vote? The answers are constantly debatable, but at least we can debate them freely. We can vote and make our voices known.

    Communism and Marxism did not seem to permit those free exercises to happen.

    Socialism in its best sense allows choice of the people, representation of the masses to occur.

    Who is best in government today? Norway? England? Germany? The United States?

    Would anyone pick China or Russia? Those in power there would...

May Day in Africa. Who Celebrates in that Continent?

    Angola had gone communist for a while. Joseph Savimbi fought that government. Guinea Bissau has been communist. Who else?

    That was so yesterday. The communists need to adapt to be communitarians. Like good religious organizations and folks.

Hard Work on May Day. Prices are High, as War Bogs Down the Straits of Petroleum

    Who celebrates May Day? Leninists? Maoists? Was a Pol Pot a participator in some kind of May Day festivity?

    Kim Il-Sung, or whatever despot ruled North Korea for decades?

    People who voted for Salvador Allende in Chile, or revere his memory still, or the few knaves who thought that Fidel Castro stood for something beyond oppession.

    How do we tax the wealthy? What is fair to all?

    What and how do we want to work and live?

May Day in America. The United States. Canada. Mexico. And On...

    Here we are capitalists and communists, libertarians and socialists. And maybe some anarchists, wherever or whomever you are. And millions celebrate the day dedicated to the proletariat, the laborers, the people who work and toil and sacrifice for the greater state, one party.

    Revolutions and the removal of the bourgeoisie. The materialist middle class. Heard of them?

    People in different countries, like Chile where I have lived, or likely China or possibly North Korea, march and tout their red flags or other emblems of the Marxist wave of economic hopes and dreams.

    The rest of us see failures and nightmares. Suffering and tyranny.

    Marx and Engels must be suffering plenty in heaven or the afterlife in which they are found. Because what resulted from their thoughts and plans, theories or systems, either was very much corrupted and abused, or the ideas were asinine and brutally deadly to begin with.

    May Day in Magadan, and dozens of other lands.

    Capitalism and its