Friday Poem: Question Everything

The poem came first. Then somehow I had some Time Alone this week, with pen and paper, and thinking of the poem and all that has been going on in the world of late (what’s new?), I wrote a little rant…question everything

Nothing is certain,
Not even this:
I don’t want to be certain-
I want to wonder
And to exercise curiosity.

I don’t want to be
Like a man who is sure what is true;
Such men are dangerous
For sure.
There have been a few.

Let me instead
Always question everything,
And keep ‘if’ and ‘maybe’
Firmly in my vocabulary.question everything 2

I don’t like Dominator Culture, however it is expressed. But, because we are immersed in it, it can be difficult to see – but once one is aware, it’s everywhere. Misogyny, abuse of children, spousal violence, unequal pay scales for men and women, cheap, illegal Mexican labour used for dirty, dangerous and underpaid work, 1% of the world’s population “owning” as much as the other 99% put together, violent struggles for control, whether for families, neighbourhoods or whole countries or religions. Keeping up with the Joneses and other extringent goals, playground bullies trying to assuage their own miserable self-worth by destroying someone else’s….Dominator Culture surrounds us every day, in ways both large and small, with the seemingly insignificant feeding on and into the blindingly obvious.

No one can beat Dominator Culture, because beating is joining it…So how to counter it?

Mohondas Gandhi taught non-violent non-cooperation, and one form of non-violent non-cooperation that anybody can participate in is to ask questions, maintain curiosity and to live an actively creative life. To be widely read, and go into the wild without wanting to tame it, to regard all persons as the equal of oneself (am I sounding like Walt Whitman? Don’t mind if I do…). To draw in the margins, and colour outside the lines. To love one another, and cultivate compassion, even towards those who seem to be the very worst…All this is deeply radical behavior,
and utterly contrary to Dominator Culture.question everything 3

Friday Poem: For Elma

My mother-in-law died quietly yesterday morning, after a long and happy life. She was still playing golf a few months ago – she planned to retire from the game at the end of the year, after fifty years – but illness intervened, and she suddenly had only weeks left to wind up her affairs, say her farewells and drift away from us into that inevitable unknown.

This poem was written for another old lady – Bryan’s mum’s name is Marj – but it seems appropriate. It is heavily influenced by Walt Whitman, in content if not in style.

4 generations

Soft tender death
Whose breath of sweet release
Will free us from this prison of our flesh
And free from bruises, aches and grief, all pain,
Gentle in her embrace
Upheld by love at last
We look on God again.

white lily

Nana was thrilled to meet Juniper , only two weeks ago. It amazes me how much Bryan now looks like his mother, especially in that photo of the four generations. Zoe’s partner, Matt, took the photo.