.
Their Principal Principle
With their hideous lies and a gleam in their eyes
They disable each new generation,
For the best route to power in districts gone sour
Is attacking the heart of the nation.
.
.
Speak Up!
I’m not afraid to be a bit transgressive
When I am called to write what’s on my mind,
And though my rhetoric might be excessive,
Compared to theirs it’s sensible, I find.
Free speech is something that they denigrate,
Unless it bolsters their insanity,
And wielding mirrors might eliminate
The basis of their freakish vanity.
Opinions are a basic human right,
And there’s no legal cost for being wrong.
Though such conundrums keep you up at night,
You needn’t sell your soul for just a song.
But back to poetry. It isn’t smart
To vilify your readers—Hillary
Learned that. Feel free to say what’s in your heart;
No longer should you fear the pillory.
.
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Fall Rising
Something happens in the waning days of fall
That doesn’t move us any other season:
We are conscious of our destination’s call,
Which brings on reveries, and here’s the reason:
We know it’s almost time to move along,
Just like the balmy days we now enjoy;
The pull of things to come is very strong,
But solemn send-offs come without a foy.
In mornings fraught with hordes of blazing leaves,
With rakes in hand to disinter our lawns,
We labor in our gaudy flannel sleeves
And hope we’ll live to see a few more dawns.
Before your ticket’s punched, keep those you love
As near as it is possible to do,
For as on Earth, so also up above:
No fault is found in any heart that’s true.
.
.
C.B. Anderson was the longtime gardener for the PBS television series, The Victory Garden. Hundreds of his poems have appeared in scores of print and electronic journals out of North America, Great Britain, Ireland, Austria, Australia and India. His collection, Mortal Soup and the Blue Yonder was published in 2013 by White Violet Press.
Thanks for the Sunday morning reads. Good stuff, all three.
I don’t get to choose the day, Russel, but Sunday’s as good as any other day. It’s my pleasure.
Great stuff, C.B.! New generations are surely “the heart of the nation”. It’s fun to imagine mirrors being “wielded”, and realizing that when we rake, we “disinter our lawns”. And your reflections upon autumn resonate with me. By the way, thank you for the vocabulary lesson: I can’t recall having heard “foy” used anywhere before.
The mirrors of course, Cynthia, are for those who accuse others of doing what they themselves are actually doing. “Foy” is a new one for me, too, and it was a lucky find.
These are three poems that resonated with me.
1. I remember reading an article in a Virginia newspaper that a young female teacher was “dedicated to the principals of education.” The next edition apologized for the article and rewrote what was meant.
2. Your poem “Speaking Up” echoes my sentiments about poetry and one of the reasons I became dedicated to reading and writing it.
3. “Fall Rising,” besides the clever title, makes a great point and provides a lesson for us all.
Resonance is a precious thing, Roy. I am glad to have been instrumental in providing some.
Some very nice linguistic tricks here, including two of the titles. Love the Hillary/pillory rhyme but reserve my highest praise for that last line: ‘No fault is found in any heart that’s true.’ That – is great.
Being tricksy, James, is great fun, unless you are Master Frodo. Being praised for words is always a comfort and a source of encouragement.
“Fall Rising” strikes a chord. More than any other season, Fall lends itself to meditations and reflections about the passage of time and life in general; at least, it does for me. An elderly neighbor of ours just passed away. I think about my elderly parents, and my own aging process; and yes, the hope to live to see many more dawns. Thanks for writing this, C.B.
Almost everybody, Cheryl, already knows this about fall, which is why writing an original autumn poem is not easy to do and why it is best to limit oneself to no more than one per year. I once had living elderly parents, and so far my children still do. Sometimes it seems as if we live solely to witness dawns and sunsets.
Ah, those “districts gone sour” multiply when activist unions get involved. Never thought of it in these words, but homeschooling defends the heart of the nation.
While I agree with keeping those you love as near as possible, I can’t agree that true hearts are no-fault on earth, much less above, concerning which I have precious little experience.
Thanks, C. B., for voicing opinions and opening thoughts!
You don’t need to tell me about teachers’ unions, Margaret. They are one of the principal reasons my own children were homeschooled.
And yes, I guess it’s possible for a heart to be true to something untrue, but are not the parallels between earth and heaven part of the Promise that has been given?
If I have opened a thought, then I hope it’s at least as satisfying as opening a tin of smoked oysters.
Gotta say it, Mr. Anderson… absolutely perfect poetry, perfect rhythm and perfect rhyme perfectly distilling truth with nary an inversion to mar the music.
There are inversions, Mike, and then there are inversions that come off as perversions. Perfection is a distant ideal that’s worth approaching but seldom attained. Truth cannot be distilled because it is its own essence.
Short, clear, and profound – tasty morsels that leave you satisfied and not regretting it. All three strike home one way or another — “Fall Rising” is the most universally applicable — but your indictment of our indoctrination system and your manifesto on free speech are accurate summations of our present times (using “Hillary” for an end-rhyme is a nice touch, too).