A New World Order?

©A New World Order?

By BR Chitwood

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Too much!

Much too much!

Enter, Corona Virus Pandemic!

We have automatic washers and dryers for our clothes when they become too soiled and odorous.

We have become so ‘knowledge-driven’ that we re-double all that we know within weeks and months, NOT years, not decades, not centuries, NOT since ‘Sputnik’ and our frenzy to satisfy every need, want, and wish, NOW!

Enter, Corona Virus Pandemic!

We have RIOTS in our cities by the citizens and denizens when they feel an abuse by our official peace-keeping men in blue defiling the ‘letters of our laws’.

We have convicts released on our streets, some who immediately go back to their ugly criminal activities.

We have countries that vie for a dubious supremacy in the world’s trade economies, countries with totalitarian rule and governance, not freedom and liberty for all.

Enter, Corona Virus Pandemic.

This ‘mind’ with which I work is not of the brilliant shine. My mind roots itself in simple origins, rutted country lanes, out-houses, and kerosene lamps, a prosaic mind that cannot do quantum leaps with his manufacturing of ideas that could solve our country’s issues of so much importance…poverty, equality, parity, crime, punishment, progressive, conservative – the prodigious cycles of thinking that must go into these ‘We the People’ elements.

What will the world elite thinkers devise to solve these most confounding and profound twenty-first century and beyond dichotomies of problem solving: peace/war; high IQ/low IQ; art/theatre crime/punishment; life/death; et al.

Peace/War… Can the world find a common ground in prevention of war? Will there be in our knowledge doubling some new miraculous computer chip to defy those who would start a war? Will there be a United Nations with Teeth? A Constant Standing War Council who will convene regularly to determine through viable computer input what areas of the globe might need censuring and Stop clauses?

High IQ/Low IQ… Will there be an enlightened world where new studies promote new colonies being established for people who can fairly compete for jobs in an environment that places no stigmata on people who are disabled by genetic wiring, and, who can determine of their own Free Will the path they will take – with safe-guards against forcible mandates.

Art/Theatre… Will there be new Civic choices, new voluntary standards for the artists, actors, show performers, who want more options for their talent? Options that are provided by an Artist Commission devoted to the growth of a healthy and communal Entertainment lobby that is non-political by AC Dictate.

Crime/Punishment… Will we have a Justice System with new penalties for particular crimes? Will there be Penal Colonies established for the criminal habitués, those people who clearly show evidence that recidivism is impossible. Will those colonies be in habitats that are unappealing, dark and dreary?

Life/Death… Should our Medical experts determine without a shadow of a doubt that a person is dying in a most inhumane way, will the suffering end for the aggrieved with an injection?

Will multi Micro-Biological Tanks be able to do patrols through our blood veins, bringing new cells to replace the old, bringing cures for cancer, for heart conditions, for arthritis, and regenerate vibrant, youthful new human beings? Are these health crises truly to become extinct with the exciting work of Micro-Biologists?

Enter, Corona Virus Pandemic!

Is the Corona-V-19 with all its calamity and deaths a prelude to all the marvels that will shape this century and other centuries ahead. Are we beginning a new and colossal history forged by our Divine Deity?

Do we leave a chaotic world of our making, a burning cinder in Space for the fusion of God’s and Science’ New World Order?

BR Chitwood – June 1, 2020

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A Gray Day Mood

[Image Art by: Thomas Dils – Unsplash.com]

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(From the Archives, I give you more to add to your Covid-19 and ‘Isolation’ depression 2020…or, perhaps, to deflect or relieve your angst to some degree…)

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©A Gray Day Mood

by BR Chitwood

The mood is sullen, like the tall leafless trees outside my window. Their bare branches reach upward toward an ugly gray sky begging for new life. The fog and the gray are like cold blankets of despair.

In many ways I am like a tree. I sit on this cold gloomy day and muse about a youth that has faded with the gnarls of time and waste. It is true I spend too much time on a past that cannot be recalled, and such a day as this makes the process more morbidly cheerless and timorous in some vague way… Some of us are wired that way.

Yet I am not so unreasonable in thought that I forfeit the morrow that comes and will again bring blooming and gaiety to my disposition.

Oh, never again will I be as jubilant as when a young man I read Locksley Hall by Alfred Lord Tennyson and that English poet’s immortal lines: “…In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish’d dove; In the Spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love…” It is quite a long poem, covering so much, and I will not include it here. If you get a chance to read it, please do.

So, my love, the fair, always calm and constant Julie, is with me in these mindful turns and twists. She gives me the needed embrace to break the somber musings that I fear too often come to visit. My lovely lady, her genetic wiring so serene and different from my own, is the bright blossom in all my seasons.

Dreary wintry days can bring not the best of thoughts, but, as bromidic as it sounds, there are always tomorrow, Spring and Summer, we can hope…until we run out of those!

Time is both the friend and enemy of all. George the cat strikes a lovely sleeping pose on the long sofa. Julie pecks away on her laptop in the loveseat across the room. Pausing, I stare at them, happy they are here in my life. Out the big window the skies are clearing and wondrous blue and sun brighten my mood. Julie, George, the Sun’s appearance in a blue sky, all brighten my mood.

Time…

Time brings change. Time brings hope. Time brings another second, minute, hour, day for me to ponder the richness and sadness of my life’s odyssey. The mirror reflects the face I have known for all the years, now with lines and sags, now with gray to the beard I shave. In that face I see the events that have shaped me. Some I cannot rinse away with the water splash. Some I wish to retrieve but are lost in memory’s fickle fancy.

Time…Time brings beauty and glaring truth with its unrelenting pendulum swings. Time is everything in life.

George is now off the long sofa wishing to be fed. Julie is no longer pecking on her laptop keys. Outside, the sky is clear and the view across the canyon is breathtaking. Time will pass and I will break from writing to watch the Winter Olympics from Sochi.

All is pleasantly as Time would have it. Here am I as Time would have it – wearing my emotions on these red, white, and blue plaid sleeves

I leave you with these bits of free verse:

©Mirror Images

 I once looked at men like you,

Old men, frail and haunted…

That was when youth declared

I would live forever…

Life was moonlight promises.

So soon there was ecstasy and joy.

How hard it was to see then…

How easy it is to see now.

 When did it get this late?

When did the tree sap harden?

Where is the gold I sought?

Where is the key I held?

Why is the day no longer long?

Why does morning come so late?

What is the mystery to solve?

What day the reckoning?

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©Portrait in Time

 Young man, do you not see me

As once I might have been?

It is the wrinkle, the sag of cheeks,

Time put upon me that you see.

Once I stood, perhaps like you,

With noble thoughts and dreams

A new bright morn might bring.

 Time wore me down with its teasing,

Its ceaseless ubiquitous promises

And often-delicious pleasures.

Time taunted and tempted me

With its guile and deception,

With beauty beads of love.

 Time gave me its reins to  

Run wild with the wind

Sunrise through Sunset and

Deep into bacchanal nights.

 Time now leaves me here

On a mountain-top, better to

Have had those moments of joy –

Sad to have you see the

broken parts of me.

 Young man, can you not see me

As once I might have been?

 ©BR Chitwood – From the Archives – 2/15/14 – ‘Hawk’s Bluff’ in Tennessee.

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