Every once in a while
I wonder
Was it really better, then
Were things truly simpler, and kinder
Decency, Respect
Agree to Disagree
Move on and get things done
Or were we just actors
Playing given roles
Reading from the script
Pretending to pretend
Because we didn’t know otherwise
Or we knew, but chose to look away
Or didn’t have the strength
The fortitude
To demand a rewrite
Of the dialogue we were given
Conformity, an old shoe, comfortable, known
Yet still not the right size
Did some of us always see the wrong
Did some of us never see the right
Because our country, now
Is not that country, then
The deep chasm
The biting divide
The angry, angry voices
The pain
The loss
The in-who-manity
It’s easy to blame the bitter orange fruit
In the house of white
But he did not get there on his own
He was fertilized, harvested
Chosen as the prize at the county fair
Exalted even, raised high
Annointed by leaders
Of houses of worship
And other houses
With dark doors and cold, white walls
Walls to keep out the colors
A twisted border song
With lyrics devoid of compassion
Lacking those words
Decency, respect
For the better good
Was this here all along?
The savagery, the defiance, the vindictiveness
The lies
Have I rose-tinted my memories?
We had our issues, then
The racism, the misogyny, the self-imposed superiority
Of the White, Straight Whale
The persecution
Of the Ls and the Gs and the Bs and the Ts
Inequality was always in the subtext
Just under the water
But on the surface, most of us were kind
Nodding to each other politely
As our paddleboats passed
Whether we meant it or not
And for a while, then
Between Camelot and the news of foxes
When the hopeful among us thought
We might all ride in the same boat
On that water
One day
But the tide changed
The levees broke
And the wall was started
Unfunded by Mexico
Or the Statue of Liberty
The Orange juiced a rusted machine
Once thought broken, abandoned, derelict
But it roared to life
And the threshing of the machine is loud
Reverberating
Encroaching
On the fields of Camelot
To the cheers of some
To the pain of others
And we find ourselves
Where I thought we couldn’t, shouldn’t be
Maybe it really was rose-tinted, then
And I didn’t see now
And it was always there in the script
One that now reads as a eulogy
But I hope not
I can’t NOT
The pendulum swings
We man the boats
The lifeboats
And we paddle our way
Toward the roses
Tinted and otherwise
We’ll find them, someday
Surely
But every once in a while
I wonder
Categories: Reflections
Things were definitely simpler and kinder.
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Agreed, especially with the kindness angle. The bigotry and intolerance was still there, but it was muted and subtle, for the most part, hidden behind the general expectation that you should be nice in public, no matter what you think behind closed doors…
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Poignant and beautiful, Brian. I can’t comment on this situation except to say that as you point out, no one can get to the top office without lots of help.
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Thanks, Lynette. I had actually forgotten about this one, until I got sudden wild hair to update this blog with Past Imperfects that I have shared on Bonnywood before birthing them over here, which used to be the normal route. When I found it in the Bonnywood archives, I thought, wow, sometimes I can actually align those words rather nicely…
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