Current Situation

After a day like yesterday in our country, it's a little hard to put together an upbeat, funny or positive blog. Nothing is funny in light of what appears to be a systemic problem with guns and racial divisiveness in this country. And while I place much of the blame on the fear-rhetoric of our current administration and the spinelessness of our congressional leaders to face up to it and do something about it - everything from gun control to condemnation of the Twitterer in chief fanning the flames with his thumbs on his phone - the spineless swamp is wide and deep in Washington.

Sorry, it's been a tough go for me lately.

The worst part of it is the sense of powerlessness and the resulting despair that comes with it. It seems all I can do is wield the power of the pen. So, I'll keep it short and leave this post with a couple of poems I wrote on the subject of guns a while back during, oh, I dunno, the 39th mass shooting of 2019, or so. We're up to 249 in August for those keeping score. And I can't help but ask God's mercy on this country. I'm not so sure He's all about blessing America right now.

Named            by Jim Landwehr

Each kid had a name

and a story to tell

now stories untold

because these bullets

lead to nothing

but screams of grief

an ocean of sorrow.

Bullets 1-3 hit Matt

who would have been

a programmer

while 4-6 hit the whiteboard

and 7-12 took

out Kristi, a future

mother

-a great one at that-

if not for those six bullets.

13-23 were used

to terminate forever the

friendship of Charles, Justin

and Miguel who

were talking about

the coming weekend

just a minute earlier.

a weekend that would pass

without them.

Rounds 24 through 27

were errant shots of mercy

splintering the desktops

of higher learning

once graced by those

of generations where

assault rifles were

weapons of war

not a means for

violent revenge.

Bullets 28-33

entered Mr. Goldman

killing him for

shielding Na’Quala

a survivor

scarred for life

who would never

emotionally recover.

She’s still dying

a different sort

of death.

Bullets 34-86

took from this earth

eleven other

bright lights

Willie

Stephanie

            Maria

            Tosha

            Ben

            Mia

            Isaiah

            Rachel

            Ignatious

            Celia

            Shanequa

and with them went

beautiful smiles

dinner conversations

graduations

birthdays and

weddings never held

goodbyes unsaid

Last I love yous missed.

These children

were taken

from us

by an assaulting

weapon of war

good for

one thing.

Killing dreams.

Talking Around The Problem                     by Jim Landwehr

When geometry takes a backseat

to active shooting drills

and lockdown exercises

We could have us a gun problem.

Or, when the student body

means one lying in the classroom

instead of the corporate whole.

We may have a gun problem.

Maybe when the suggested solution

to stopping the next school assassin

is to arm the English teacher.

We might just have us a gun problem.

If people speak about knives and bricks

as potential weapons of mass murder

“So are we going to ban those too?”

We certainly appear to have a gun problem.

When students become survivors

and stand up to NRA politicians

but still laws don’t change.

It’s safe to say we have a gun problem.

Blogging off...