20161230 (bury, bear)

There is a reasonable time to declare the year's end/beginning

Since the population of the 

Northern hemisphere far 

Exceeds that of the southern

It seems right to start a new 

Year when the earth’s axis

Is at its maximum tilt away

From the sun. Likewise as 

The passage from darkness to 

Darkness is mirrored in our

Journey from birth to death,

It adds even greater weight to

The choice. Pity the ill-starred

Of the other node who must

Draw the line from one era

To the next at the peak of the

Summer party. Do they boogie

Up to midnight? Take a quick

Break? Then boogie on till

Dawn? Makes no sense, but

Being a northerner, I sympathize

With the winners: There is no

Better time to summarize the 

Annual tolls than deep in the

Bleak cold, nor better time to

Wish afresh for plans and goals,

Better behavior for others and 

Ourselves. Keeping up the year/

Life theme, it’s as if by thinking

On our failures over the previous

Three-hundred and sixty-five 

Days, we declare the death of

Those mistakes and conceive

A new chart, a calendar of days

Unspoiled, awaiting our revised

Self which will, we promise, live

More fully, more happily, perhaps

More wisely and more generously.

Nobody knows for certain that

Those renewed desires will not

Be dashed or be betrayed the next

Moment. Still, that we even can

Consider new beginnings

Despite all past proof to the

Contrary lifts our souls above

The dross of our imperfections

And we rejoice to start life

Again. You’ve missed my 

Point if you think this is 

About losing weight or 

Quitting cigarettes. No, it’s

So much more like Rosh

Hoshanah, the Jewish Days 

Of Atonement. If your Advent

Was not about straightening 

Highways in your desert,

Filling in low places, and 

Making rough places plain,

Don’t waste another minute:

Bury the old; give birth—

Your new self beckons.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016

20161228 (subjugation)

"Of course I voted for you."

WOMEN elected Dump. Hear me

Out. According to the circular

Firing squad of pundits blaming

Each other for factors contributing

To the election of this surreally

Unqualified candidate, those

Already sharing in the blame

Are: Black voters who stayed

Home and did not give HRC 

The support they handed Obama;

The alienated “white workingmen”

Who stuck their collective 

Thumbs in the Dems’ eyes;

White nationalists who turned

Out unanimously and in force

For Republicans; and last but

Certainly not least gun nuts

And NRA crazies. Granted

They all had an effect, but I’m

Still going to blame the women

For what will be their undoing.

I’ll split the class in two groups:

The Dominated and the Deceived.

Among the Dominated might be

Melania Dump at the top, whose

Voting was closely observed 

By the soon to be Ninny-in-

Chief over network television,

And at the bottom by those sad

Spouses already beaten into 

Submission by their domineering

Male partners, who despite the

Secrecy of the voting booth

Probably wouldn’t have the 

Temerity to lie to their abusers

About their presidential choices.

I can forgive them; they’ve been

Through enough, and because of

The outcome are in for more of

The same. No, I’m really upset

About the willfully deceived of

Conservative women, those

Equally sad deluded damsels

Who had to shake their heads

To keep out the nagging refrain

“And if you’re famous enough

They’ll let you grab them by

The pussy,” as they darkened 

The circles, punched the card 

Slot, or tapped the screen to

Enable this self-confessed

Sexual predator and creepiest

Father figure ever to disgrace

The national stage to become

The Leader of the Free World,

The Champion of Democracy,

The Man With His Finger On THE

BUTTON. What I expected after

Dump’s confession of macho fantasy

Coming to light and the dozen or 

More victims who finally emerged

From the darkness to accuse and

Confirm his unworthiness was all

Self-respecting women would 

Either clamber up his next 

Platform to tear him a new one,

Verbally if not physically, or at 

Least agree to vote as a bloc to

Stymie his megalomaniacal

Dreams. They didn’t do either.

What the hell were they thinking?

That the leopard could change

His spots? 

c. J.S.Manista, 2016

20161224 (Immanuel)

Baby born in Syria after his mother was hit by a barrel bomb.

Spoiler alert! We’ve got Christmas 

Backwards. We know how 

It all turns out. That’s why 

We get so crazy happy for 

What happened. Besides

It’s about a baby. Who has

Trouble with that? So let the 

Joyous bells resound. Let the

Choirs of heaven and earth

Sing alleluia, alleluia till round

The whole world choruses of

Angels join in praise to the

Heavenly King, Gloria, Gloria.

Except it probably wasn’t like 

That at all. Remember this is

About a young woman in her 

First pregnancy enduring a

Long journey as a mere subject

Of a proud and imperial power—

For what? To know how much

To tax the oppressed. Even if

She rode a humble donkey the 

Last miles, she’s near full 

Term and puzzled about how 

Everything will work out.

She's exhausted already at 

The thought of the labor to 

Come. Arriving late to their

Destination they find all the 

Available room taken and her 

Time has come. Grateful to

Be allowed in a shelter where

The simple animals rest, they

Prepare for the night ahead. 

Convinced she was singled 

Out by her God to bear a special

Child for her nation, she thinks 

Now not of glory but of pain as

She readies some straw for

A bed. Assured in a dream,

That all is right with his bride-

To-be and that the child will 

Have a name of authority and

Righteousness, he trusts, and

Does all to provide. Exactly

What the shepherds heard and 

Saw that night on the hills 

Where they tended their sheep,

Wasn’t a bomb going off

Waking everyone in town, 

But they did find a baby

And a mother, finally resting.

They told everyone there was a

Tremendous fuss about a baby

Born last night, but it didn't

Make the morning news. That

Was how God came to us: wet,

Bloody, crying, cold, tiny,

Helpless, desperate for comfort,

Dependent on two bewildered

Youngsters for safekeeping, 

Teaching, feeding, and love, 

Like every one of us, like the

Children born in Aleppo, Gaza,

Yemen, or Fallujah, the most

Wretched of origins, a holy 

Promise of glory to come.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016