One place open and transparent,
The other shrouded in secrecy,
Both pretty much about the same stuff,
One getting kudos,
The other, well, that’s too bad.

How in these times,
When the books have all been written,
Can management be so poor,
So unsure,
Borderline demur?

At least my stepson is back work,
His first day in eight weeks,
He got a quick training on new procedures,
Then a bit of a surprise,
Eight checks, they paid their staff all the way through.

At sixteen, he understands the loyalty,
The sacrifice it took to make that happen.
He’s learning so much more than those working
In the lock and key business
Where only Eric Arthur might be able to say.

No lightness can illuminate this mystery,
How professionals can bumble along to gracelessly,
Never communicating clearly,
Always over explaining, and and of late,
Disappearing from sight.

Better to open,
Larger, more confident dogs know,
This guardians of cowardice only need to look to the east,
Gain an example from their neighbors and
Get with the business of leading.

So easy to do,
So easy to misinterpret,
Words flow sharing ideas,
Words spew infectiously with their multiple meanings,

So lively to the soul,
So able to illuminate who people are,
Their tales of moral misgivings,
Their tales of emoji enunciations,

Gathering places of friendly banter
Gathering places of unfortunate terminations
The surfaces allowing people to hang
The surfaces allowing people to be dismissed

Directed light to focus attention
Directed light bringing unwanted focus
Illumination to bring out our spots,
Illumination to expose our thoughts,

Effecting change,
Entertaining change,
Enabling change,
Exposing change.

Which is not where we always want to be,
Sometimes it’s better to be on the side,
Listening, a quiet communication skill,
Soaking in the stories people share
While sitting around the table,
Far out of the spotlight where anonymity,
Indifference, or passive participation
Allows change to take root.

We talk,
We share,
We laugh,
We take turns,
And I, for one, am changing
Able to be open,
Appreciative of my new friends,
Accepting of time in the spotlight,
Given I can get out of it quickly.

Maybe that seems a shock,
Perhaps a poetic lie,
In my reality, I’m quite shy,
Maybe inconveniently unconfident,
Mostly engaged, but
Thankful for the mornings,
The communication,
The stories,
The table talk,
Although, I prefer others take the spotlight,
Especially when they have to explain
Their laundry habits…☕️

I’ve been doing the assignments that I give my students. This assignment was to make connections through Haiku between communication, the nervous system, marijuana, and a Ted Talk by Aimee Mullins.

Hopefully, I get a good grade. I’ll

Some people know stuff
Everything speaks in its way
Mullins understands

Central is the issue
Where attitudes are concerned
Weeds get in the way

Social acceptance
Not something legislated
A challenge of spoken words

Legs not there live free
For hope is an attitude
Walk with confidence

Smoke signals puff pure
True messages uncertain
Drug gospel shady

The counter attack is on
People are tired and sick
Better listen before things are too far gone

People are tired of being pawns
Moved about for the powerful applied so thick
The counter attack is on

The masses understand how to make things gone
Voting with their intelligent hearts is the trick,
Better listen before things are too far gone

But do we trust the crazies who feel put upon
And what they would do if wielding their stick
The counter attack is on

Chaos is spreading, power nearly just a caption
With both ends of history burning at the wick
Better listen before things are too far gone

Some foundation of the ways must run-on
Lest the newbies taste power and, too become sick
The counter attack is on
Better listen before things are too far gone



Notes, texts… Adverts, planks, propaganda



Hey, whassup… Buy, vote, hate



Nice, familiar… Manipulation, wangle, desecration

And there I’m lost

Wondering where we lose

Civility and compassion

To outright

Demonstration that one product,

One party,

Or one race

Is best.

What of the consolidation of thought

At the hands of the information gate keepers

Who tell us

What is good…

What is right…

What is righteous.

How quickly we forget

To question…

To inquire….

To speak up…

For it is bad messengers

Who deliver bad messages

And unchecked by skepticism

The vitriol manifests itself

As the gospel

In the name of whatever

Perverted view

The spewer spits on us

Be it





The message hurts

Only justifiable by the ones spreading it

And again, left unchecked



We are all worse off

For the limited and lacking

Views of what is

Right and righteous

And those views will

Lead to equally

Limited behaviors

At the expense

Of compassion, civility, and whatever commandments

We choose to follow.

The muss of myopic thought chisels at

The ways of the one,

The ways of acceptance,

Of survival,

Of peace and

All are lost when the messenger believes

That the message is more


Than all the others.

Enough of these people who proclaim

To have all the answers,

That their way is the only way,

That their administration will solve it all

Or their blood is pure

Or their god is best.

And enough of their will to do whatever

To actualize their narrowness.

Enough of those who use

Votes, fear, tricks


To get what they want

And rid themselves of those

So bold

As to think differently than them,

And who hold a belief that

Everything is not an all or nothing experience,

And that the good of all

Is not just a business decision

But a moral obligation

That requires the acceptance of differences

And a respectful diversity of thought

That will bring forth the best in all of us





Maybe I’m not lost

As this is just one view, so

Take it or leave it

For I gain no advantage

By you accepting or challenging

The efficacy of what I have written

Yet, I revel in the belief

That someone will extend my thought

So we can grow

Past what we already think.