Being an Olde Fartess of a certain age, I must admit, it pains me to read about, let alone see, elder abuse, and the people who can do something about it—are silent, in fact, they are complicit. Ask Epstein’s victims how that feels.
Now, I must admit, I do not like Mitch McConnell. I can’t remember a time when I might have. I can’t remember a time when I looked at him, listened to him, I didn’t see him standing in the shade of a large plantation, while addressing his slaves, perhaps with a cat o-nine tails in his hand, applying the business end on the back of one of his slaves, perhaps because they wanted something as simple as freedom, to return home to their family in Mother Africa.
Just because I dislike him, immensely, doesn’t mean I hold with abusing him as he is currently being abused by his wife who can speak for him, or his fellow republicans who are directing him what to say (aye or nay) for a vote count.
His body is alive, he can move his index finger on the right hand, he can speak, “aye” or something that sounds more like aye than nay. He cannot, or at least does not, turn his head when anyone speaks to him. His mouth seems frozen in a grin, almost a rictus grin, not a friendly grin, not a grin of enjoyment of life, of gladness as seeing old friends, it’s the grin of someone who looks like he’s been coached to grin, so people will know he’s truly alive. Period.
Yes, he’s alive. But—is he alive? Can he understand anything? Is he cognizant of what is being said to him? Can he carry on a conversation, however limited? Can he understand a joke? Can he laugh at something funny? Can he tell a joke?
Can Bobby BrainWorm or QuackQuack Oz do anything to help Mitch? Possibly, but why would they? They’re part of the problem. Sigh. And why doesn’t Elaine Chou speak up, and tell those power hungry clowns that enough is enough, and her husband should be allowed the rest of his days at home, in peace. What a pathetic situation. And You and I pay for it.
Thank you for your patience as I got that rant out of my fingers.
After writing this, I came across this almost 9 minute YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=riCDjSxmwGM
Poetry
I had some positive feedback from my poem last week, so thought I’d try a new one. I took a workshop last Monday, and we wrote a “Skeleton Poem.” I used to write a lot of those, years ago, when I got bored at work. Only I didn’t know they were called Skeleton Poems. In fact, my friend and I used to teach people how to write poems using the same method, except instead of 8 lines, we used 10. It was great fun to hear the poems after. And people were really surprised at what they wrote. Actually, I sold several of my Skeleton Poems. So, here are the bones of my skeleton, and the poem. If you want to try it, set a timer for 30 seconds if you’re a poet, or 45 seconds per line if you’ve not tried a poem before. Go one line at a time.
If you want to try it, I suggest you use a random set of words. Maybe consider writing 20-30 words on a piece of paper, cut them out, put them in a bowl, set your timer and pull out a word, write your line, hit your timer, pull out…. until you’ve pulled out however many you wanted. Tweak your poem and there you are. Put your words back in the bowl mix well and you’re all set to go the next time. And, if you want to share, feel free to put it in the comment section, but know that it then becomes published and if you submit it to a publisher you need to tell them.
1st line – use a season
2nd line – use currency
3rd line – place of worship
4th line – the color red
5th line – wild card (whatever you want)
6th line – something from the sea
7th line – stringed instrument
8th line – repeat line 1 or 7, exactly of paraphrase
When you have your lines finished, take 3 minutes to tweak if needed.
You can also use 10 words, or however many you want. The goal is to write and have fun.
And here is my poem from the above words. I initially wrote it double space, tweaked it a bit, and put it in couplets, then changed it to single space. I underlined the words used in the lines.
Season of Sorrows
by Lenora Rain-Lee Good
Autumn, the time of long sleeps, of death
save your coin for Charon, if not for now
your prayer bones on the velvet kneeler
red as your blood, stained by your blood
bruised by your hours of devotion
holding beads of shell, beads of seed, beads of wood
a stringed instrument to help prayers reach your god
in this time of long sleep, death, are useless. (repeat of line one, sorta)
Public Service Announcement
If you’re an Elder, don’t forget your Flu and Covid vaxes! Maybe plan a day after to do nothing. For some reason, one or the other, or both, zapped me, and I spent two hours napping the day of, and almost the whole of the next day doing the same. Makes me wonder what I’d feel like if I hadn’t gotten vaxxed and one or the other bug bit me. Having grown up in the time of polio, and spending 9 years 5 months 23 days in the Military, I’m a firm believer in getting vaxxed. Even if there might be a day after! Admittedly, the day after a vax isn’t as much fun as the day after a good night—but that’s another story for another day. /snort/