the family divides and that line

there is an invisible line
it runs through,
underneath our feet,
a schism between
us and them,
north and south,
right and left,
one side for and one against

this line has not always been
to have it there actually is a surprise,
as I really thought we were immune to the lunatic fringe
and I was wrong,
few are immune
to that unbridled ignorance and narcissistic greed,
with the posse of crooks and conmen
and Stone whispering sweet nothings of evil intent

this schism

of civil wars fought

but only in your head,

whenever my father visits his old home
it sits with us
outside on the front porch,
as that river runs through,
and very little is spoken of him,
the wedge in the room,
out of respect for their views,
and for fear of saying something I could not take back,
even if it is true,

i love them both too much and fear that which could slip

knowledge is a dangerous thing,

knowing what I do

could not quietly acquiesce to falsehoods abundant in their news

staying quiet is not my forte

i know,
i read,
i watch,
i know, too much

and so I know too much to speak of this,
as he has never been the rebel with a cause,
but instead without one
for it is not from him my idealistic nature comes,
my sense of right and wrong,
but not my loathing of lies,
greedy power
and ignorance of those who do not go as deep into it all as I
my deep thoughts
right and wrong
strength of conviction
nurtured long, long ago
with Gzowski on the radio,
with Grandma D
and that hypnotic voice saying things I didn’t get

it oozed into me

she was the fierce one,
the left of centre,
opinionated one
a vast array of things she knew

my grey-haired Grandma

the matriarch

and maybe a bit odd
in many ways,
i inherited that I think too,
though I didn’t know the half of it

a quiet revolutionary,

a working woman when many didn’t,

serious and kind all at the same time.

i scare my father,
a little
still do,
like Grandma always did,
with her judgemental eyes
saying everything the lips never would
even when she could

and how easy it is for him to lose
he thinks,
that he fears that,
i know that too

because he’s lost me before

lost me because of things he didn’t say,
things he did,
and things he didn’t do

i tiptoe around that man,
and he me

the one who now resides and walks the hallowed halls of the U.S.A.

i blame him
too, i really do

that GREAT pretender,

much more i could say,

but i just give him my judgemental blue eyes
i inherited from him


Comments or Otherwise

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.