Personal Poetry Challenge Day Forty-Six

I watched a piece on TV tonight about genetic research and where some of it is headed.  Then I turned off the television to write todays poem.  After staring blank the screen of my phone for a while I asked Lynn (my personal muse) what to write about.  She thought about it for about a minute and said “Why not what we just watched?”

Gods Own Game

Very soon now we’ll have the tools,
To change our very genes.
But is this something we should do,
Regardless of the means.

If we can end genetic ills,
Some see a duty there.
But those same tools can also set,
A deadly future snare.

If we can build perfection then,
Who else would get to mate?
How fair would an election be,
‘Gainst custom candidate?

If you could save your child from,
A lifetime of disease,
Would you still say they must stop or,
Say sign me up now please?

So while our guts may say one thing,
And knee-jerk says the same,
Let’s not forget there are more sides,
When playing Gods own game.

Cheers, Winston

Personal Poetry Challenge Day Thirty-Seven

I work in a cell phone store so I often hear about new tech is destroying people’s ability to communicate.  This always makes me a little crazy. You see I grew up without even a phone.  Trust me, I know a thing or two about living in a simpler time. 

It’s Fear The Future

A lot of ink gets spilled these days,
‘Bout our pervasive tech.
Midst all the furor where’s the voice,
Just says, “Meh, what the heck.”

It’s not the end, it’s just begun,
Like every time before.
And as things change they stay the same,
And then they change some more.

Yet every time things change it seems,
Some lose themselves to fear.
No matter what the benefits,
Some just refuse to hear.

They close their ears and close their minds,
They just refuse to think.
Then when the world has passed them by,
They want to cause a stink.

But good old days were not that good,
Let’s not do that again.
I lived like that when I was young
Like now much more than then.

So just remember technophobes,
The tech is not to blame.
It’s what you do when you get it,
That messes up the game.

So when your teen insists on texts,
No matter how you hate.
Don’t think that this must mean the end,
Text back communicate.

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Nine

I asked my muse what to write about today, and she suggested the idea of….

Paying It Forward

An act of kindness once it’s done,
Can echo far and wide.
But that is not it’s true reward,
For that is felt inside.

Some do some grand, impressive act,
In hope of gaining fame.
But in the end it’s just an act,
Their kindness is a game.

They think to score some points somehow,
They just don’t understand.
When kindness is it’s own reward,
No benefit is planned.

Some cannot see and will not hear,
The truth within their hearts.
The greater good is greater still,
When honest giving starts.

So lend a hand or give some time,
To help someone today.
And when they ask you who you are,
“Just pass it on.” you say.

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Eight

Who was the richest person in the world the year Mother Theresa died? The greatest architect?  Don’t know?  Neither do I.  Nobody remembers them, but everyone knows who she is.  Wealth and power may be fun, but to be immortalized in the hearts and minds of the people, nothing beats outrageous acts of kindness.

The Secret of Immortality

We build it up then tear it down,
Then build it up again.
This cycle seems to be our way,
Let not the past remain.

If those who lived in times long past,
Set stone upon a stone.
We undo everything they built,
Make piles of our own.

We do this even knowing those,
To come will do the same.
We build to be remembered long,
To snatch a moment’s fame.

When our descendants have forgot,
Our names and where they’re from.
We hope our legacies of stone,
Still stand in years to come,

So tear down what we built you must,
To build your future pile.
But don’t forget that all you build,
Lasts just a little while.

It’s how you’ve lived not what you’ve built,
That stands the test of time,
So focus more on being kind,
And live a life sublime.

Cheers, Winston

This Is A Travesty

I have to take a moment out from my month of poetry to draw attention to this. Over 200 girls were abducted from their school at gunpoint in Nigeria.  While no one has claimed responsibility the well known terrorist group Boko Haram is believed to be behind the kidnapping.  Read the full story here.

As horrible as this is, it get’s worse. No one is trying to find these girls. Not the Nigerian government, not the UN, not even the Americans. They normally jump at the chance to generate some good P.R. on the international stage, but not this time.

Why isn’t the world beating a path to Nigeria to find these girls?  Well, it’s because it’s in Africa.  These sorts of things happen there and there’s nothing you can do about it.  Also, the girls are…. well, they’re black.  It’s terrible to say, but it’s true.  If a couple of hundred white girls were abducted by terrorists, the whole western military apparatus would already be mobilizing.

But it’s Africa… and the girls aren’t white.  Besides, we’re all tied up with this territorial dispute with Russia.  Besides, we can’t get drawn into another foreign war.  Besides…. they’re not our daughters.

I’m not advocating an Iraq or Afghanistan type invasion.  I’m talking about a dedicated strike force tasked solely with finding and executing the kidnappers and any available affiliates, repatriating the girls to their families and then going home.

I want to send a very clear message that there are some lines that cannot be crossed anymore.

But it’s Africa…. and the girls are black.

If the girls were Ukrainian and it looked like Russia was behind it, the tanks would already be rolling.  Because that’s the drum we’re beating right now…. and the girls would be white.

Despondently Yrs, Winston

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Seven

Commercial whaling is basically a vile practice.  It has been outlawed by the international community and yet some countries persist.  Fortunately, some very brave people are committed to ending this crime.  They are……

The Sea Shepherds

They roam the oceans to the south,
To keep the whales free.
Sea Shepherds lives are on the line,
To end the whalers spree.

Outnumbered they persist despite,
The fact they’re risking all.
To save a whale they’ll take that chance,
They’re answering their call,

The Japanese insist science,
Is why they hunt the whale.
But thousands slain can only tell,
What kind of meat’s for sale.

The Shepherds play a deadly game,
Against a deadly foe.
But they believe right can beat might,
Once more to sea they go.

We can’t afford to lose more whales,
The vital role they play,
We’ve lost too many as it is,
The time to stop’s today.

Support your local Sea Shepherds

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Two

For those who hadn’t heard, today is Earth Day.  This is the one day each year when we’re supposed to put away our rampant consumerism and give a crap about the planet we live on.  Seems to me that it might need more than one day a year.  Maybe that’s just me.

Thoughts On The Occaission Of Earth Day.

Earth Day today but what’s that mean?
Can one day save the world?
Now really can this day we claim,
Undo the the filth we’ve hurled?

We say we want to change the world,
But that impulse will pass.
We celebrate the earth today,
Tomorrow frack some gas.

We bemoan the latest oil spill,
As we fill up our cars.
Then drive away beneath the smog,
Say how we miss the stars.

We build our subdivisions on,
The best farmland around.
And then complain that fresh produce,
Costs so much by the pound.

Our kids and grandkids pay the price,
For what we do today.
If we don’t change the way we live,
A price too high to pay.

I am no better than the rest,
As I stand here and preach.
We all must change myself as well,
That is the truth I’d teach.

If you would change the world, first change yourself.

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo Day Nineteen

I realize that I am part of that group of people referred to as “the chattering classes”.  I sit and write about all the things I see, but I don’t actually do anything to change them.  This is about me and all the others like me.

Enough To Make You….

I sat and read the news today
The world scrolling by.
Mans’ inhumanity to man,
Enough to make you cry.

The murders are quite bad enough,
The wars more horror still.
The famines, rapes, and plundering,
Enough to make you ill.

Anti-gay bills and rights denied,
More vile than they seem.
Enforced values on someone else,
Enough to make you scream.

What do I do about these crimes?
Like you they make me sad.
But just like most I do nothing,
Enough to make you mad.

So if you look around the world,
And find compassion lacked.
I hope the outrage that you feel’s,
Enough to make you act.

If you don’t like the news….. Change The World, Not The Channel!

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo Day Eleven

I’ve seen and heard one too many ads attacking Liberal leader JustinTrudeau. Instead of trying to frighten voters with Justins plan to legalize marijuana, why not talk about your own plans to decriminalize it?  I don’t know about you, but I haven’t seen a whole lot of ads attacking the Conservatives.  Just trying to level the playing field here.

The Conservative Playbook

Release the hounds it’s time to vote,
There’s character to smear,
Don’t educate constituents,
Just make damn sure they fear.

The sound byte out of context is,
Our favourite blade to twist.
The public will not hear our foes,
If our lies have them pissed.

We can do just what we like,
And no one cares a bit.
‘Cause every press release we drop,
It’s “PR spin that shit.”

So let the others have their say,
Then remix every part.
The public’s sure to go for it.
We know they’re not that smart,

If voters start to question us,
It’s Chretien’s name we’ll use.
Then power’s ours for four more years,
To squander and abuse.

Cheers, Winston

NaPoWriMo Day Ten

The ongoing expressions of faith (specifically Christian) on Facebook have caught my eye again. This poem is for all those who feel obliged to tell me how great their God is.

I Believe…. That’s all you need to know.

There’s scads of Gods and Goddesses,
Enough to go around.
But when the real work needs done,
They’re nowhere to be found.

Their offerings and sacrifice
Are all they care about,
And knocking up some mortal lass,
A holy act no doubt.

But when a plague needs curing,
Or homeless to be fed.
Your deity I safely bet,
Is still at home in bed.

So worship them if that’s your thing,
I won’t get in your way.
But don’t tell me to live like you,
Or fear your judgement day.

I have my life and my beliefs,
I don’t force them on you.
So keep your faith and keep your Gods,
And I will keep mine too.

Cheers, Winston