Peace, People

When I’m on the ball, I sign off on my posts with the phrase, “Peace, people.” Occasionally I’ll add to the phrase something pertinent to the post, but usually I stick to the simple sentiment that came to me out of the blue when I first started writing this blog.

During most of the sixties I was a child, too young to be a part of the hippie generation, but old enough to throw the peace sign around like a true member of the love generation. The idea of peace seemed radical then, and even more so now.

I’ve come to cynically believe that we will never have peace because it just isn’t profitable. Politicians love to feed the hungry mouth that is the military industrial complex, so young women and men will continue to march off to war. We will be told that it is the patriotic thing to do, so we will cheer them as they depart and mourn those who do not return except in flag draped coffins.

Peace continues to be worth striving for, though. I still pray for peace every single night, and I vote for those I hope will prevail against the hungry, hungry war hippo.

I found this T-shirt design at a Target store in Tallahassee a couple of years ago and bought it immediately. It became my favorite due to its message and its extreme softness. Then, I lost it. I have a feeling I left it in a hotel room on one of my cross country jaunts. Miraculously, I found it again at a different Target in Davenport, Iowa. Yay!

Yesterday I wore my peace T-shirt as I ran errands around Tallahassee, and for the first time since buying it I was rewarded with at least half a dozen responses, all of them positive and encouraging. One young man asked me where I’d gotten it because he wanted to get one for his girlfriend. Several people of varying ages flashed the peace sign at me and smiled. I felt light-hearted for the first time in ages.

I’m tired of young people dying in old men’s wars. Maybe others are, too. And just maybe it’s time for the peace sign to make a comeback in a big way. I’ll do my part.

Peace, people.

Snapshot #201

Usually my snapshot blog posts are of pretty things: flowers, pajamas, winged insects, etc. Today’s offering, though, is just gross.

See that mucus-y blob on my rear view mirror? I’m calling this one, “Look! A Loogie!”

The great glob of spit wasn’t there when I locked my car and went into a Walmart in Tallahassee, but it was gleaming at me when I returned with my purchases. I’m fairly certain the culprit was the man who was parked next to me and gave me a withering look that was perhaps prompted by my T-shirt:

I guess he’s just not ready to give peace a chance.

Peace, people.

Let It Be

I find myself singing this throughout these terrifying days. It breaks my heart to know that many of my friends who once sang along are now under Trump’s influence. Greed and an adherence to false religiosity have turned their hearts and minds away from the tenets of peace and love.

https://youtu.be/cKolD582AVI
Lyrics

When I find myself in times of trouble. Mother Mary comes to meSpeaking words of wisdom, let it be.

And in my hour of darkness.                     She is standing right in front of me Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Chorus:

Let it be, let it be.                                           Let it be, let it be.                                 Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the broken hearted people Living in the world agree,                      There will be an answer, let it be.

And though they may be parted there is Still a chance that they will see            There will be an answer, let it be.

Chorus

And though the night is cloudy,            There is still a light that shines on me, Shine until tomorrow, let it be.

O, will I make up to the sound of music Mother Mary comes to me              Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Chorus

Photograph #44

This one moved me. Let’s call it “My Reason Returned.”

“…raised my eyes toward heaven and my reason returned to me, and I blessed the Most High and praised and honored Him who lives forever; For His dominion is an everlasting dominion, And His kingdom endures from generation to generation.” Daniel 4:34

Meditation Song

I am the tuning fork, a shimmering frisson of vibration calling the heart to harmony

I am also the rock, though, throwing ripples concentrically across once calmed waters

Peace and chaos vie for my soul, my meditation song pulled from the place of light

Spilling haphardly across the courtyard where I tend tightly ordered rows of flowers

Regimental form forced on blood red roses contrary to their petals’ better nature,

Never certain which will win the day, tranquility or turmoil, I toil with hope and a smidgen of fear.

Evening Lake Haiku

Green cast of twilight
birds’ song floating from tall trees
forest peace descends

  
Lake without ripples
leafy reflections confound
filtered light descends

  
Red chairs keeping watch
over sunset’s still water
silent guardians

  

Rusty Whiskers

He walked tall, that Rusty Whiskers, said what he meant and meant what he said.

Devoted to doing the right, if not popular, thing, while spreading peace, love, and

Fried shrimp across this massive land. His life a benevolent mystery, marked by epic

Climbs to far off mountaintop gurus. The meaning of life intertwined with the taste 

Of beef jerky and dried sunflower seeds. A brief dance with cocaine kept him humble,

Unaddicted, but slightly paranoid. Always up for a good story; always there for the 

Woman he loves. His pottery and her signs bringing enlightenment to the masses.

  
Several days ago the words “Rusty Whiskers” popped into my mind. I rolled the words around trying to decide what needed to be done with them. Then, lo and behold, I meet a man named Rusty and his lovely lady, Sherry. It seemed like a sign. 

I’m pretty sure Rusty Whiskers will appear in future posts. That name is just too great to let go.