Family Affairs

I am privileged to know several "Mr. Moms"
These are men and fathers who make house a home.
Many are embarrassed to admit their positions,
As if this is not a manly mission.
I've had several husbands much calmer than I,
But we couldn't give role reversal a try,
Because we had been taught that women weren't to be
Trusted to, in the workforce, be free.

The mothers often convinced themselves
To buy all toys and adventures others would sell.
Stay-home men might allow children to run
All day in their pajamas, having unsupervised fun.
Many lost the ability to constructively imagine;
We don't want, this reality, to fathom.
Have our families become better off,
Or are we now paying a terrible cost?

We must stop hiding the truths from each other;
We can't afford to trust children only with mothers.
I have great hope that we won't slide back,
As long as we're truthful about the impact
Of deciding what chores have to be done
And assigning each to the appropriate one,
Not based on gender, but on ability.
Only then will our society, truly be free.

This new way takes much sacrifice,
But the alternative had too high a price.
Children now have no roots at home;
Both parents are, to the workplace, gone.
Do we need the luxuries that this affords,
The lessons in piano, two skateboards?
Or do we need block parents and neighborhood games?
This should not bring either parent shame.

Our blocks should agree on a code of conduct,
Not allowing the children to run amuck.
It could all be like Daddy or Mommy Day Camp,
But the rules of our behavior need to be revamped.
While on duty, the patrol parents must insure
Fairness, responsibility, and safety are secure.
These are times when we must not be hesitating
To create a world in which "G" is our child's world rating.

The adult programs must be turned off;
Children's minds are pliably soft.
They soak up like sponges that which enters,
And these images become their centers.
It is not fair to, as children, burden them
With problems that vex grown women and men.
Until we are willing to be accountable adults
The destruction of our families remains our faults.

We now have classes for every parental chore;
Anger management should receive the highest score.
No longer should we teach that might makes right;
We should behave by the rules in each others sight.
What's done in secret rarely, for long, stays far
Off the scope of children innocent radar.
We destroy their minds and their confidence
When we dishonor their minds' evidence.

All the parents who teach our children wrong,
Or expose them to the bullying throngs,
We as a society must learn to shun;
Let them live like the animals they've become.
We should not let the wealthy pay their way out;
This is not what shunning is all about.
It is a turning away of those who, our children, hurt.
Let them learn, their disciplined selves, to assert.

Recycling Relatives

I just can't hide it anymore;
The inside me keeps popping out.
But there are so few who want to know
What we're really all about.

I have spent my life changing myself
To please my current community,
Accepting all suggestions for
How to be a better me.

My grandmothers and mother
All said I was too wild.
A sister accused me of attempting
To steal her husband and child.

When my mother told me my troubles
Were caused by my past sins
It was very difficult for me
To continue to let her in.

Another sister told me
That I was no more fun,
When a depression layed me low,
And I didn't know where to run.

My husband was also depressed
But he didn't even know it.
Men are, after all,
Taught never to show it.

My nephew who asked for our help
In making peace with his brother
Has sent accusations that I've wronged him
To my sisters and my brothers.

A brother whose wife I love has said
He never wants to talk to me again,
And now I seem to have forever
Lost his wife as a dear friend.

My sister who was like my baby
Has finally spoken her truth to me;
She said that I've been stupid
In helping others for free.

I simply had to come home to
Where I have deeply loving friends,
Who don't care if I don't change,
Or if, into their family lives, I blend.

Where is the recycle center for
All the baggage from our pasts,
The people we collected
Before they woke us up, at last?

Words as Weapons

I seem to struggle so mightily
To be the best that I can be,
With those who bring out the old me.
I can no longer feel free.

It's not that I don't still love them
I wish this was something they could see.
But when they taunt or laugh at my disgraces,
I have a tendency to get in their faces.

It's simply that I am scared
Of how easily I slide back,
And instead of being compassionate,
I am so tempted to attack.

These words of mine can be like swords,
Cutting deeper than any knife.
I have to guard them carefully,
Or through hearts and souls they slice.

The Holy Spirit used to take my tongue,
As I often repeated my prayer,
For the Holy Spirit to take my tongue,
And soften the words that I share.

This door's spring seems forever sprung.
I know that in situations with much passion,
I often find myself  and my words behaving
In a most uncharitable fashion.

I really don't like this departure
From the new person I'd become.
Instead of attracting people,
Away from me they run.

I then spend so much time and energy
In guilt and in making amends
That my desire to make things better
Becomes a burden to my friends.

Why?

Why is it some people only change
When you hit them in the wallet
And others, when they are accused,
Continue to soul search and fret?

Why is it that some only learn
To obey the laws of life
When they are put in prison
To experience that strife?

Why do we make excuses for
The most privileged and wealthy,
Those who have the education
In how to be most stealthy?

Why do we continue
To sell our immortal souls
To those whose only god
Is the pursuit of more gold?

Nobody likes a loser,
But it is plain to me,
It's time to take the planks
Off our eyes, so we can clearly see.

Resisting Continued Corruption

I'm happy for others for whom God is differently manifest;
Even if we never agree on whose manifestation is best.
Throughout the existence of humankind, we have been aware
That there's something much greater than each of us out there.
The Spirit that infuses humanity with the power to become their best,
Many have tried to define, and many have failed the test
Of being available to all creation, in all the universe
We have spent millenia, calling many philosophies cursed.

The Spirit of Light and Love, and being the best that one can
Is the mark of the special gift of The Spirit in humans.
Some find their best selves in lives of contemplation,
Some in rocking the cradles of those who will lead our nations.
Some need a spouse and partner to become who they were meant to be;
Some find that they are their best when they're completely free.
One thing I do know, we won't find The Spirit in the dissension
That seems to infuse conversation in which God is mentioned.

We won't find The Spirit through drugs and alcohol
Nor through sex with those who are in its thrall.
We must step out of our fears, joined hand-in-hand,
To resist continued corruption of our place in Creation's plan.
We must say no to those who seek to combine church and state
And understand it is our following them that makes leaders great.
We must stop being lulled by their mantras and rituals
That keep our minds and our souls, with their power, full.

We must write our own stories, sing our own songs,
Pointing out repentance and forgiveness rights wrongs.
It is not anarchy or sin to refuse to be enslaved
By those who have lived lives that are depraved.
Christianity was perverted by Constantine
To assure his position as emperor, an earthly king.
It is time to reclaim a pure path to peace
That humbles the mighty and uplifts the least.

Penance and the Promised Land

I'm so tired of competition for who is holier than thou;
What really matters in the scheme of salvation is what we're doing now.
We all have differing strengths and different temptations, too.
What may pull me farther from my path may not appeal to you.
Are we attempting to make amends for all the wrongs we've done?
Are are we being "reborn" as if our lives on earth had just begun?

I don't think it is for God that penance is necessary,
And the focus on pain being the purpose simply makes me weary.
Self-discipline in changing our ways can be a joyful task,
And its power in healing relationships is something in which we can bask.
How joyful I feel when someone has brought harm to me,
And then attempts to help heal these wounds in front of our community.

Some have a time of atonement for their sins against their god and others,
But how many of us have help in making peace with our sisters and brothers?
We are forced to put on righteous airs for fear of being fought;
Eternal shame, blame, and war is what this path has wrought.
Maybe one day all our earth will become the promised land,
But I don't think this can happen until we become our best humans.

Healing Family Feuds

In our search to make peace with the gods
We continue to sacrifice
The need to make peace with all creation,
And we continue to pay a dear price.

There is no place where we can
Seek solutions in our family feuds.
We allow strangers in our courts
To decide who and what is good.

This is not the way to solve
Problems with those we love,
So we medicate our consciences,
And sweep our problems under the rug.

We seem to have progressed no further
Than the ways of Cain and Abel,
Lying about our guilt
Instead of laying it on the table.

We could lay down our swords and sorrows,
Once confessions are given and accepted.
The restart button could be pushed,
Instead of living in continued rejection.

Being born again could include
As ceremony of re-entry
To communion with our fellow humans
Once our fear and anger are set free.

Many people sin in secret;
They don't let their truths come out,
But admitting our faults and starting over
Is what New Orleans is all about.

New Orleans is a city of great passion,
A city of celebration of The Spirit and sin.
We must simply be aware of these things
In choosing what we let come in.

We used to have a Catholic culture of
Saturday afternoon confessions,
Keeping the sins of yesterday
From becoming our obsessions.

Now, I'm not sure what people do
To slow themselves down and think.
Instead of examining their souls,
Perhaps they simply have a drink.

It is not so different than anywhere;
We all have bad things we have done.
But I sure miss the days when we had
A confessional to which we could run.

It's not that I think the way to
Absolution was well administered;
It was simply that it was cleansing
To have our failings heard.

What I wish they handed out for penances
Is the directive to make amends
With all those we had hurt that week,
Ourselves, our enemies, and our friends.

Perhaps we could add a codicil
That would offer extra absolution
To those who seek to cure cancer
And clean up the earth's pollution.

Extra penance would be needed for
Those who take from the poor,
Like those who profess to be the voices of God
While standing in greed's door.

Maybe we all need sinners' anonymous
Something like going to AA;
It would be a place where each of us sinners
Would have support to live by what we say.

Wouldn't it be nice if
Our churches would become
A place for laying down the burdens
From which we generally run?

They could be places where we
Pledge to seek reconciliation.
Not simply places where we go
Straight to the celebration.

We could replace our courtrooms
With centers for seeking peace,
Where members of our churches
Speak for those who are the least.

Instead of priests, we'd have mediators;
All confessions would be confidential.
But having dialog with both warring parties
Would be seen as essential.

Perhaps we could then get past the sins
Of the fathers being passed down to their sons.
We could begin to reclaim the harmony
In which humanity was begun.