Honoring Our Laborers

Laboring

As we make final preparations for the most solemn American holiday, Labor Day, our mind turns to ways that we, and perhaps all of us, can make Monday’s national celebration of workers into a perfect expression of how we all really feel about laborers.

Vegas, baby!

Disneyland?

Another less exalted way of honoring those of us who actually work is to take a small slice of time out of our vacation – thirty minutes maybe? – to ask ourselves a simple question: Why do I believe what I believe?

It’s a useful line of inquiry. Had the millions of Americans . . . → Read More: Honoring Our Laborers

I Am

i-am-02

For anyone who suspects (or has figured out) that much of what is commonly understood to be The Truth About Life is actually a series of mistakes, lies, and fantasies, the film “I Am” is a powerful affirmation that we’re onto something. Director Tom Shadyac used to be Director: Tom Shadyac, the auteur of big-budget Hollywood comedies starring Jim Carrey and Eddie Murphy. Addicted to more of everything, Shadyac acquired and consumed and wondered why the hole he was trying to fill never seemed complete. After a serious illness, he switched paths. “I Am,” made with the craftsmanship of an old pro, chronicles Shadyac’s exhilarating journey toward enlightenment. Desmond Tutu, Howard Zinn, and Noam Chomsky are some of the thought leaders interviewed, along with a menagerie of brilliant authors and scientists speaking plainly and clearly. What they — and the New Tom . . . → Read More: I Am

Poem: If One Could Add the Entirety

Godhead of the light

If one could add the entirety

of what we can see

and what we can’t –

the supplicant on a rant,

the matter dark, unknowable,

a bitterness that’s stowable –

what we would have to examine

are children wrenched by famine,

a panoply of catastrophes,

like man-made war, and disease.

 

We would also deign to look

at an ancient antiquated book

imparting wisdom, dispensing lessons,

doling out her meager blessings

to those who care to think

that knowing God demands a link

to better angels, vibes much higher,

illuminated by your fire,

the one that burns within

where there’s no hell and there’s no sin.

When you glow the healing starts

proving science doth love the arts.

 

We know the good resides all ‘round,

that humble plots are sacred ground,

that if you focus on the light

you’ll develop . . . → Read More: Poem: If One Could Add the Entirety

Poem: The Difference

malnourished children

The difference ‘tween him and he

appears at first randomly

in mutations rare

results unfair

blessing him with ignorance

cursing he with intelligence.

 

 

If a plan there be

we fail to see

what force of kindness

manufactured blindess

to that which pulses like the breast

of pigeondoves and marmosets.

The one who looks not like you

the blackdykewopniggajew

heshehim your sisterbrother

emerging from a wombless mother

the difference ‘tween us and it

disappears when tightly knit.

Poem: The Most Marvelous Thought

black venus by vakhovskiy

The most marvelous thought

occurred to me, an occurrence

in and through the hollow reed

we choose to be.

 

How preposterously inconsequential

you are! Irreducibly irrelevant

speck of cosmic flotsam.

 

Now! (Like the B&B lady in Sheepland).

Somehow you feel better.

Knowing this. Having this

thought occur.

Poem: The Fine Line

honest business card

Between a reason and excuse

A fine line, a filament, a dilettante rope

Unfurls and hides. We might not see yet can’t refuse

The shades of meaning found in joy and hope.

Choose words carefully –

That’s the lesson, the lemon, the luminosity.

Should you be charged with loquacious verbosity,

Sentenced to the slammer,

Annealed by hammer,

Or whatever indignities fail to fit the crime,

Remind the judge (and jury, too),

Concoct a plan, a verbal stew,

And excuse your reason with a rhyme.

Poem: The Silliest Most Comforting Thought

raison detre

How terribly awfully

blatantly and, one might emphasize,

preposterously

naïve

to envision even for a frivolous moment

a world, or a set of circumstances,

alternating laws and chances,

in which wherein and also everything else you can dream,

human beings,

people

decide to make love

the reason for living.

 

Slilly thought yes.

Even sillier, giggly wiggly like

the tail of a pig **+*+**:

imagine, as the man said, imagine

this most preposterous fantasy:

the human race

entirely too busy making love

their reason for living

to waste lifetimes making hate.

Poem: Too Many Books

too many books

Too many books

Not enough readers

Too many poems

Not enough heeders

 

You say you want answers

You say want leaders

You pray for salvation

At the Church of St. Peter

 

Ask for forgiveness

Ask and repent

Ask for an ending

To ongoing Lent

 

Something like calm

Something like grace

Something to cure

The whole human race

 

The whisper of magic

We desperately seek

Ready to welcome

The strong and the meek

 

Find it on paper

Find it on air

Find it forever

Right now and right here

Too many poems

Too many books

Too many lost souls

Don’t know where to look

 

 

. . . → Read More: Poem: Too Many Books

Poem: Why You’re Great

Grateness!

External stimuli cannot affect the silent mind

harmonized with all the voices of the universe

singing their discrete vibration now and forever

in a perfect symphony of light.

 

Nothing from the outside can burrow inside the sanctuary

of a peaceful soul

joined in spirit with all that was and all that is.

 

Fantastic triumphs won’t disturb the contented heart.

Nor will failures.

You’re immune from noise.

You are great.

Poem: Let’s Do This

set it up for spliffing

June 21-30: The MICHAELKONIK.com SUMMER POETRY FESTIVAL; A New Poem Every Day!

 

Let’s have a little argument

Let’s have a little tiff

Let’s castigate and conjugate

Instead of light a spliff

 

Our passions stoked, our ire raised

We commence to disagreeing

About cannabis and worshipping

And other ways of seeing

 

Yet all this time, as we yell,

Nothing’s really changed

The noise and clamor honks and swells

An ethos rearranged

 

I ask you now, as a friend

A man who flees a fight

Wouldn’t we be better

Standing in the light?

 

So raise a glass, raise a blunt

Toasting to the air

Celebrate the ones you love

And don’t forget to share