Trump is now trying to re-invent himself to appeal to the general electorate. But he has spilled his entrails all over the globe, and the stain on the American image and psyche remain. The discoloration won’t go away.
Sometimes it resembles purple and green bruises, notably on women and minorities….click below to read more.
https://voxpopulisphere.com/2016/06/07/patricia-a-nugent-stains/
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White caps crash
Waves slam the sandy shore
Surf chases meandering feet
Back away, she roars
Back away
You’re angry, I say
And why not?
You offer bounty
And we dump plastic
Spill oil
Explode bombs
Poison creatures
Bring on your fever
Back away, she warns
Or I’ll melt my ice caps
Bust your levies
Flood your cities
Kill your food source
Deny you life
I’m angry too, I confess
My planet is being destroyed
My water, my air, my land
My life force
Back away, I roar
Corporate polluters
Over-consumers
Climate-deniers
Military forces
Frackers and drillers
Back away
It’s my ocean too
White caps crash
Waves slam the sandy shore
Surf chases retreating feet
Is the ocean fighting back
Or just reflecting my own anger?
© Patricia A. Nugent
Earth Day 2016
Filed under Journal Arts, Soul to Soul Blog, They Live On, Uncategorized
As time goes on, and inequality persists for women and people of color, I’m finding these designated days and months that “honor” the downtrodden to be not only ineffective but insulting. Why should the local library feature African-American authors in February and female authors in March? Why not honor all peoples’ contributions equally?
Below is a re-post of an article I wrote in 2015 for Ms. Magazine.com on this issue. Sadly, it’s still relevant.
http://msmagazine.com/blog/2015/08/26/weaving-women-in/
“Happy” Women’s History Month….
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I tell my friends
I’m afraid.
They tell me
it couldn’t happen here.
They can’t imagine
we’d vote against
our own self-interest.
I tell them we do.
All the time.
I tell my friends
Germany became Nazi Germany.
Germans didn’t see it coming,
couldn’t imagine it.
Nationalism screwed up
the collective psyche of reasonable people.
Code red, white and black.
Code fear.
I tell my friends
a shocking percentage of Jews
voted for Hitler.
Then stayed too long
in a nation going mad.
I recite Anne Frank’s last entry:
In spite of everything, I still believe
people are good at heart…
I tell my friends
she didn’t realize it would be her last,
couldn’t imagine friends would turn them in
three days later.
I quote Reverend Niemoller:
Then they came for me and
there was no one left to speak for me.
I post the quote on my front door.
I tell my friends
I want to be brave like protesters who yell,
FASCIST!
BIGOT!
RACIST!
and aren’t afraid of the goons
who rough them up
while the crowd spits on and kicks them.
I tell my friends
social justice is worth my life.
I need to know I tried
to stop the ascendancy of evil.
Tried to stop good people
from endorsing campaigns fueled by hatred of
women, immigrants, Muslims, people of color, journalists.
Campaigns that appeal to our most unholy selves,
screwing up our collective psyche.
Code red, white and blue.
Code fear.
I tell my friends
if this isn’t stopped now,
there may be no stopping it.
And now I’m telling you
to tell your friends.
-Patricia A. Nugent, February 2016
Filed under Journal Arts, Uncategorized
Today I mailed Christmas. Put it in boxes, sealed it up, addressed it to friends and loved ones, and delivered it to the post office.
Christmas in a box.
The best gift we can give our loved ones is the gift of our time and presence. Yet that’s what we guard most fiercely. Instead, we give presents to people, creating drive-by relationships.
I understand the relief of not having to meet expectations in person. Yet expectations are part of all relationships, and you can’t avoid them through distance. You can only do that by creating an emotional distance, which just might happen if you mail enough presents that should be delivered in person.
Go home this Christmas.
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I miss him this Christmas.
The man I said always ruined Christmas.
The man I dreaded calling on Christmas.
Because he’d say mean things about my not being there.
I miss him this Christmas.
The man who dressed up like Santa Claus.
The man who surprised me with a stuffed bear, pink bicycle, and luggage.
The man who taught me how to ride a bike and drive a car.
The man who hummed Silent Night, all year long.
I miss him this Christmas.
The playful, grinning man.
The man who loved holiday parades.
The man who loved parties.
And was the life of every one.
I miss him this Christmas.
Excerpt from They Live On: Saying Goodbye to Mom and Dad by Patricia A. Nugent © 2010
Filed under Journal Arts, They Live On, Uncategorized
A search for “the truth” could dramatically improve our public policy debates.
http://voxpopulisphere.com/2015/12/07/patricia-a-nugentsocrates-was-a-flip-flopper/
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Filed under Journal Arts, Uncategorized
My latest article published online by Ms. Magazine, calling for an end to separate commemorations to honor women and instead “fix” the disparity that exists.
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Journal Stories 