July 4: "Statues in the Park," Independence Day, Honor

Billy Collins and the code of statues . . .

Statues in the Park

by: Billy Collins

I thought of you today

when I stopped before an equestrian statue 

in the middle of a public square,

you who had once instructed me

in the code of these noble poses.

A horse rearing up with two legs raised,

you told me, means the rider had died in battle.

If only one leg was lifted,

the man had elsewhere succumbed to his wounds,

and if four legs were touching the ground,

as they were in this case--

bronze hooves affixed to a stone base--

it meant that the man on the horse,

this one staring intently

over the closed movie theater across the street,

had died of a cause other than war.

In the shadow of the statue,

I wondered about the others

who had simply walked through life

without a horse, a saddle, or a sword--

pedestrians who could no longer

place one foot in front of the other.

I pictured statues of the sickly

recumbent on their cold stone beds,

the suicides toeing the marble edge,

statues of accident victims covering their eyes,

the murdered covering their wounds,

the drowned silently treading the air.

And there was I,

up on a rosy-gray block of granite

near a cluster of shade trees in the local park,

my name and dates pressed into a plaque,

down on my knees, eyes lifted,

praying to the passing clouds,

forever begging for just one more day.

I've heard of the meanings behind these equestrian statues before, although I wasn't aware of all the nuances of the lifted legs.  These symbolic meanings fascinate me.  Now, I'm sure that, at some point, almost everyone was aware of these artistic codes.  However, over time, these codes have been relegated to questions on Jeopardy! or a game of Trivial Pursuit.

Today the citizens of the United States commemorated Independence Day--the day (almost 250 years ago now) when the Declaration of Independence was signed and British rule in the American colonies came to an end.  In honor of this moment in history, there were parades and community picnics and fireworks all across the nation.  However, much of the original meaning of this day gets obscured by the trappings of these celebrations. 

I'm just as guilty of the next person when it comes to taking my freedoms for granted.  As I sit here typing this blog post, I'm not worried about getting thrown in jail for criticizing the President of the United States or the justices on the Supreme Court.  There's this little thing called freedom of speech in the Constitution which guarantees me the right to express myself without fear of imprisonment or worse.  I can bitch about politicians all I want without fear of retribution (at least in the near future).

 I am not going to discuss recent Supreme Court rulings tonight.  Suffice to say, I've lost faith in the High Court.  Divisive politics and corruption have invaded every aspect of governance in the land.  But, that's not what I'm writing about right now.  I prefer to focus on the time I spent with my wife and kids this afternoon/evening.  I barbecued hot dogs and bratwurst, cooked corn on the cob, and sliced up a watermelon.  We played games and laughed quite a bit.

Now, who knows what Independence Day is going to look like next year.  It all depends on the upcoming presidential election.  My heart tells me that I will still be independent and free.  My mind says I might be incarcerated in some gulag as a dissident poet/anarchist.

Tonight, however, I can still type things like "Fuck Donald Trump" and "Impeach Clarence Thomas" without fear that I will be spirited away in the middle of the night by gestapo agents.  And I honor the sacrifices made by those who fought and sometimes died to insure my freedoms on this Independence Day.  

Saint Marty is now going to comfort his puppy who's cowering in her cage because his neighbors are exercising their freedom to shoot off fireworks.

June 30: "How Would You Live Then?", What Ifs, Values

Mary Oliver asks a lot of "what if" questions . . . 

How Would You Live Then?

by:  Mary Oliver

What if a hundred rose-breasted grosbeaks

     flew in circles around your head?  What if

the mockingbird came into the house with you and

     became your advisor?  What if

the bees filled your walls with honey and all

     you needed to do was ask them and they would fill

the bowl?  What if the brook slid downhill just

     past your bedroom window so you could listen

to its slow prayers as you fell asleep?  What if

     the stars began to shout their names, or to run

this way and that way above the clouds?  What if

     you painted a picture of a tree, and the leaves

began to rustle, and a bird cheerfully sang

      from its painted branches?  What if you suddenly saw

that the silver of water was brighter than the silver

     of money?  What if you finally saw

that the sunflowers, turning toward the sun all day

     and every day--who knows how, but they do it--were

more precious, more meaningful than gold?

Of course, all of the questions Oliver asks are pretty amazing exercises in imagination.  They're questions only poets and prophets would probably contemplate.  But the most important question of all resides in the title:  "How Would You Live Then?"  If any or all of these "what ifs" were real, would it change how you interact with the world on a daily basis?  Oliver makes no attempt to answer any of the questions she asks.  Maybe she knows that any answer is simply not going to be as interesting as the question itself.

I think all human beings play this "what if" game because every human being has ideas of what would make the universe better.  For Oliver, it's rose-breasted grosbeaks orbiting her head and an oil painting of a tree suddenly coming to life.  Those are things that Oliver values.  My "what ifs" will be different than Mary Oliver's or Clarence Thomas's, or Mark Zuckerberg's or Pope Francis's.

So, in the spirit of Oliver's poem, I've decided to provide some of my own "what ifs."  No answers, just questions.

What if the sun crowed like a rooster as it climbed into the morning sky?

What if my puppy could speak and tell me exactly where she wanted me to scratch her?

What if Lake Superior sang "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" every time a boat launched into its waters?

What if pizza helped you lose weight?

What if skunks smelled like blooming lilacs?

What is angels walked around like in the Old Testament, knocking on front doors, looking for dinner and a place to spend the night?

What if you replace the word "angels" with "homeless people" in the previous question?

What if the whole world just ignored Donald Trump for the rest of his life?

What if rainbows tasted like fresh homemade bread?

What if everyone made Christmas tapioca instead of Christmas cookies?

What if all the nuclear stockpiles in the world transformed into fruits and vegetables and potable water?

What if I won the Nobel Prize in Literature this year?

What if Bigfoot walked out of the woods and bitch slapped anyone drilling for oil in Alaska?

What if there were term limits for Justices on the United States Supreme Court?

What if all the fossil fuels in the world turned back into fossils?

What if all the fossils in the world turned back into dinosaurs?

What if Jesus stopped by for a visit to tell everyone that love is love is love?

What if people in the United States were just as concerned about guns as they are about drag queens?

What if Elvis really is still alive?

What if the stars at night whispered bedtimes stories from the heavens?

What if poets and artists ran the world?

What if Saint Marty could make the lame walk; the blind see; and Republican politicians become poor, Black, and transgender?

June 24: I Am Crazy, Supreme Court Decision, Can't Legislate Morality

Santiago is not crazy . . . 

"If the others heard me talking out loud they would think that I am crazy," he said aloud. "But since I am not crazy, I do not care. And the rich have radios to talk to them in their boats and to bring them the baseball."

I have been reading and listening to insanity all day long.

This morning, at about 10 a.m., the Supreme Court handed down a ruling that overturned 50 years of precedent.  In a 6-3 decision, Roe v. Wade became history, and the constitutional rights of all women were returned to Leave It to Beaver land.  Now, the decision is left up to individual states, half of which have or will ban all abortions.  In my home state of Michigan, the law that will go into effect was passed in 1931.  If you do the math, that's only eleven years after the 19th Amendment passed, giving women the right to vote.

I woke up in 2022 this morning.  When I go to bed tonight, my head will hit the pillow in the Dust Bowl, two years before Adolf Hitler rose to power.  

I'm experiencing the same emotions I felt the day after Donald Trump was elected President of the United States.  Helplessness.  Disbelief.  Sadness.  For all the women in my life.  For all my LGTBQ+ relatives and friends.  For my daughter and son.  As part of his opinion on today's ruling, Justice Clarence Thomas all but said that the Supreme Court should overturn decisions that established the rights to contraception; to engage in private sexual acts; and to same-sex marriage.

Because I'm a Christian, most people assume that I should be dancing in the streets tonight.  I've said it before, and I will say it again:  nobody has the right to force their personal morality on others.  That's between them and their Higher Power, whatever that may be.  You can't legislate morality.

If you don't believe in abortion, don't have an abortion.  If you're against contraception, don't use contraceptives.  If you think homosexuality is wrong, don't be a homosexual.  If you oppose gay marriage, don't marry someone who's the same sex as you are.  It's that simple.  

Your beliefs should guide the way you live your life.  However, your beliefs should not guide the way I live my life.  Same goes for your neighbor.  Or the teenage girl who's been raped by her father.  Or my gay friend who's been with his partner longer than I've known my wife.  Or the single mother with five kids who's working a minimum-wage job.  

If you're worried about the sanctity of life, then push for sensible gun laws that will decrease or end school and church and shopping mall shootings.  Support universal healthcare.  Buy groceries for kids who are going hungry every day.  Volunteer at a homeless shelter.  Start recycling.  Plant some trees.

If you call yourself pro-life but don't support any of the things I've just listed in the previous paragraph, you're belong in a United States where women can't vote and African Americans are hanging from trees.

Make no mistake:  abortions will continue to happen in the United States.  The difference will be that women will die because of a politically-motivated Supreme Court decision that puts their lives in the hands of neighbors who think that global warming is a fairy tale and gay people can be prayed straight.

I am searching for light tonight, and I'm having a hard time finding it.  

Mr. Rogers once said, "When I was a boy and I would see scary things on the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping.'"

Saint Marty thinks we need a lot of helpers tonight.