The Rockies abruptly pull upward. Away from drifting downward, Not toward the prairie grass Surprisingly, found in this mountain pass
An insect flutters blade to blade, Sipping at flowered nectar to persuade Life to go on as it rearranges Despite all the inbreeding and climate changes.
40,000 years of splendid isolation And still to science's fascination It's coloration was something close to drab Significant without a distinctive grab
Alone for ages on its evolutionary trajectory This butterfly had no need for math or history Its number was tiny, and its story a mystery But its name was necessary for its identity
A wildfire blazed through, causing calamity, For this small numbered species in its vulnerability. Genetics met victory for the curiously isolated hairstreak, Sustaining as it did between Rocky Mountain peaks.
It hangs on as it does there on the river's edge, Hovering and sipping on nectar well below the ledge. It strives without knowing that its kind must go on; It's that, or each of this kind will be drably gone.
“The more people who own little businesses of their own, the safer our country will be, and the better off its cities and towns; for the people who have a stake in their country and their community are its best citizens.” – John Hancock
The Guilt and Monstrosity of Luigi Mangione by Michael Doyle
News wars say if it bleeds, it leads In this nation of monstrous misdeeds, It is really not all that deep, To focus on murder and death is cheap.
It's become symptomatic of modern society, To focus our fanfare on fanciful brutality. Don't name the dead in your thanatology, Say the prophets of modern sociology.
Luigi Mangione laughs as he pleads not guilty In his indictment of the healthcare industry. The unrepentant murderer's action against greed Has been lionized into some sort of noble deed.
The mean world syndrome presses the anxiety Of those tired of life's seeming complexity. The media takes a bow in shaping our attitude, As it hardens hearts and removes all gratitude.
He is no Robin Hood, regardless of the system's flaws. Murder by number does not reform any needed laws. Social media has provided a halo effect to a criminal Who in his murdering has surpassed wrong into purely evil.
Luigi Mangione laughed as he pled he was not guilty In his over-the-top indictment of the healthcare industry. The unrepentant killer was action not just against greed And it cannot be lionized into some sort of noble deed.
"Deny, defend, depose" may have caused innocent death, But you cannot defend a murder with the same breath. It is a societal vandalism that frays the norms of society. It is a pop culture spectacle based on social anxiety.
A living, breathing meme exceeding its substantive meaning, The absurdity only demeans the worth of actual human beings. Idolizing this punk is only a symptom of the social nihilism That has erupted to replace our world's hope and optimism.
Luigi Mangione laughs as he mocks us that he is not guilty In his over-the-top indictment of the healthcare industry. This unrepentant killer sought fame and did so with greed This action cannot be lionized into some sort of noble deed.
Trivializing Mangione's crime turns murder into a commodity. I cannot be alone in believing this is more than odd to me. We do not resolve inequities through acts of sheer violence. This is true regardless of real or pretended coincidence.
The adoration of a murderer will not bring about our salvation. But it might lower the standards needed in our good nation. Disillusionment does not justify America losing it's way. Instead, we must think together about finding our better day.
Luigi Mangione might laugh but he is surely guilty It is just to indict the wrongs of the healthcare industry. But an unremorseful murderer's actions, it must be agreed, Cannot be lionized into any sort of good or noble deed.
“The one who plants trees, knowing that he will never sit in their shade, has at least started to understand the meaning of life.” – Rabindranath Tagore
Contamination of Life and Thought by Michael Doyle
As a small child, often alone, I usually read The kinds of books that put thoughts in my head. About lives well lived in their grand nobility, These were filled with love and remarkable purity.
To be fair, my beliefs developed from this reference. I had no way of genuinely knowing by any real inference That what I saw as truths were just ideals, often legendary. Those oppressed by these truths held them incendiary.
Still, I believe in and love my golden country. I find it beautiful and filled with true dignity. I remember the kindnesses of so many along the way, And I know this is as true today as it was yesterday.
Getting older, I wondered about my life's contamination. Soiling the fabric of life lived symbolically in my nation. I was told that my belief in patriotism crossed the line. Despite my belief, nothing was sacred or any kind of divine.
I have become alienated by the growing sense of danger. What was a world filled with friends has become one of strangers. Each has been taught to seek after only their own good, It has filled my heart with sorrow as it's come to be understood.
Still, I believe in and love my golden country. I find it beautiful and filled with true dignity. I remember the kindnesses of so many along the way, And I know this is as true today as it was yesterday.
I feel as jaded as the broken strings of old violins Moving through life at the pace of slow violence. My disbelief at how my country has changed is corrosive. Strip-mined of substance until becoming explosive
My love has lost its way before a wash abrasive fear. A fear of those once waited on as friends, it's now clear. That so few are free from the chains of the sins within. The beast has clawed its way up to bring us to the end.
Still, I believe in and love my golden country. I find it beautiful and filled with true dignity. I remember the kindnesses of so many along the way, And I know this is as true today as it was yesterday.
“When people accept breaking the law as normal, something happens to the whole society.” – Orson Welles
(Hear this, Democrats? Think before you support Antifa, BLM, the Anti-Semites on College Campuses, what’s been uncovered by DOGE, the threats made by your Congressional ‘leaders’, etc.)
When Longfellow wrote of Revere's ride He didn't mean to capture it stride for stride, But to create something of a heroic memory Put on paper for the sake of American history.
It was a clarion call for courage to hear it. It was a reminder of our Revolution's spirit. As sure as history's wind comes as it flows, There are times when bravery comes and goes.
250 years have passed, and we still survive. The birth of America needs to be kept alive. So, listen my children for a chance to hear About our heroes like the great Paul Revere.
Some words of history are needed to be kept alive If our great country is to remain and survive. Courage is a way of life that Americans embrace. Let us always be remembered embedded in our traces.
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along
ALOHA PROMISES FOREVER 