Plebian Bedrock
Honorably mentioned, a talent search.
Perception stifled, from a righteous church.
Disregarded tidings from the far right.
Reckoning the left in the cloaked night.
Will ideology get its respect?
How can middle ground be beyond suspect?
Legitimately justified they point.
Can odd or even simply hide the joint?
Atonement will merge the enlisted group.
Plebian bedrock, right here on the soup.
3/21/2021
Barney Rubble was the ultimate okay friend.
His love for the grumpy Fred Flintstone would never end.
His wife Betty was a tittering fool that adored Fred’s wife
They had a relatively hysterical cartoon life
When I was a child Bam Bam was the one I could adore.
His slamming and drumming caused my heart to soar.
Pebbles was cute, I loved her tiger shirt and her orange hair.
I could not wait until Saturday morning when they went on the air.
Wilma seemed to be the voice of reason in the show.
She was like Jackie Gleason’s wife, if you want to know.
The one who kept her feet on the ground and everything fine.
The Flintstone movies also made me happy in my prime.
Bedrock of beliefs
beliefs interfere
with any notion
of who we are..
beliefs lodged in
our ego selves
stand as protection
of the ego itself..
beliefs may have
been founded on
a bedrock of truth
but now are
trying to endure
as a curtain
blocking our view
of our luminous
and joyful
Bedrock...
Sphinx
Sits on
Burning sands
Sunning herself
In the noonday sun
She needs no chaise
She is a
Bedrock
Sphinx.
Trust - the bedrock.
'Trust' - a thing that, if terribly short,
puts one's mind in a desolate fraught!
Writhing in agony, as intestines in a knot,
fish out of water at the end of cord it caught.
Oh man, life has a long leeway all along,
challenges thrown, only makes one strong!
Seek with patience 'n' steer them with calm,
unperturbed - with an open mind as a norm!
Bees for sure know, the flowers will bloom,
birds aware, the Sun will negate the night's gloom!
It is that 'trust' that moves the world on its feet,
with faith, in time, let insecurity beat a retreat.
Bedrock of passion
You're what i want to be
Look at my rose again
Nothing compares to her
Soft and yielding love
Often mocked as stupid
I am always faced with
the idea i am missing
something worth knowing.
I go to work. I do my job.
Preached to standards higher
than I can conceive,
I am everywhere and I believe
what I hear when
media gurus deceive
and try to convince me
that they stand for values
their own biographers deny.
I watch leaders praised
and forgiven for crimes
that would destroy me.
I go to work. I do my job.
I see my hours cut.
I raise children who
go to work and do their job
and are passed over for promotion
by someone who promises to do more
with less, downsizes, lays waste
and jumps to another position
before the destruction
can be assessed.
I go to work. I do my job
and I am the bedrock
on which the rest of society
dances.
Sometimes I go "postal".
On those days, everyone says
that they just don't understand.
"He was just so steady, never late
for work, always did his job."