Burn, Baby, Burn

Burn, Baby, Burn

by Leslie Noyes

There’s a fire out in the pasture, so sound the great alarm, it’s crackling down the corn rows, now threatening the barn.

We’d fight the fire with water, but the well dried long ago, now it’s too late to save the farm, and we’ve no place to go.

So hurry, save the chickens, the horses, and the rest, so they can perish another day when we fail the next big test.

Dire warnings were extended by experts in the know, but the idiots ignored them and allowed the fires to grow.

For profits’ sake we’ll pay the price, the ultimate tragic loss, while politicians fiddle a tune for their new greedy boss.

Note: I thought I had this scheduled to post on Earth Day. 

A Death in the Family

She lived a good life
Protected and nurtured us
Now lost forever

Yet birds keep flying
The sun continues to shine
Heedless of her death

Our grief is immense
Life, though, continues apace
While this old world turns

I’ve been asked repeatedly today how I feel about Trump winning the election. Truthfully I feel like there has been a death in my immediate family. Ultimately I know we will be alright, but right now I’m experiencing a deep grief.

I spent a sleepless night in which my thoughts circled relentlessly like a dog chasing its tail, and I recalled reading Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s book, On Death and Dying, in which she introduced the five stages of grief:

  1. denial, 
  2. anger, 
  3. bargaining, 
  4. depression, and 
  5. acceptance

From my psychiatry courses in college (where a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing) I remember that one can cycle through these stages in a variety of ways unique to each individual. 

I ran through denial pretty quickly. The numbers were there. And while it was heartening to note that Hillary won the popular vote, Trump undeniably took the electoral college votes. 

Anger is my current companion. I’m not angry at Trump or his supporters so much as I’m angry at their willful ignorance. They don’t care that he has no real plans to implement his policies. They like him because he’s not a career politician, and he isn’t politically correct. 

I’m angry at the registered voters who just didn’t show up. I’m angry at those who used their votes to protest by voting for non-viable candidates. I’m angry at the subtle and sometimes not-so-subtle voter suppression tactics that were employed in several states.

I can’t imagine there’ll be much bargaining involved, but depression is anger’s little sister and I’m going to do everything in my power to avoid going down that rabbit hole. Today I smiled at everyone I saw and hugged a woman at work who supported Trump. Little steps.

Acceptance? That’s going to take awhile. But I won’t be like those conservatives who disrespected President Obama and actively rooted for his failure these past eight years. I’m going to support Trump as our president while continuing to fight for the rights of all those living in our country: health care, reproductive rights, racial and gender equality, etc. 

I know other bloggers have addressed this much more eloquently than I, but I think the healing starts when we lay it all on the line. This piece was part of my healing process. Maybe it will help someone else along the way.

Peace, people.


I. Heart beats, races on

Barely restrained, uncontained

Then forever shelved. 

Illustration by Travis Bedel

II. She sometimes wonders

Had she chosen differently

Would he even care?

III. Shelved hearts hold the key

Unlocking blocked memory

Whisk away the dust.

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