Wednesday, February 29, 2012



Simplistic as a mark by a pencil on a piece of paper is the subject of this effort. We all are familiar with lines since pre-school when teachers insisted we stay within the lines when coloring. Lines invade our daily lives, just drive down a road and think what keeps us on one side of road and an opposing car on the opposite side, isn't it the line painted in the middle of the road that, by enlarge, keeps the two vehicles from running into each other.

Pin a map of North America on the wall and look toward the top half you'll observe a line running east and west separating the USA from Canada then look down and see a similar line separating us from Mexico. How powerful is a simple line marked by printer's ink on a paper's surface universally understood by most who view it as defining individual countries.

Pick any game or sport and try to play it without lines, impossible. An accountant draws a line across the end of a list of numbers, you've heard the statement, " a line drawn in the sand ", or heard "take an 8 by11 lined sheet of paper". 

I bet you can think of numerous other examples of lines since lines are a fact of daily life for everyone.
I'm not necessarily fixated on lines but I am amazed at the raw power of a line painted on a roadway in this the age of the automobile. Hey, keep in the lines.

Ronald C. Downie

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

When Tough Questions Needed

When Tough Questions Needed

When an initiative needs positive promotion for public exposure where should it turn? Creative activists must explore every avenue for help by asking penetrating questions.

Should the tax paying public expect a public asset created through a legal agreement be used as the intent of that document set forth ? Well, if the public doesn't care to be bothered, if the Borough management sees this and acquiesces, or, if the present group of activists just doesn't know maybe it's the time to light the fire under you who care.

I'll lay out what I understand about an asset, PCTV, but you must also do your own investigating by asking questions from those in authority, but don't let them stonewall you, which has been their modus operandi in the past.

Cable television came to Pottstown when Comcast (or its predecessor) sought to exercise its right under the federal government's Cable Commission Act. They requested the Borough of Pottstown allow them to bring cable television here under a franchise agreement and Borough Council voted yes. 

The Cable Act stipulated each franchisee was granted three channels for their patron's informational use. One, for education ; second, for government ; third, for local programing. Pottstown contracted with a management company to operate these three channels which continues on into today.

Comcast collects through its billing program a fee or tax placed on each bill and transfers these funds to the Borough. These transfers are commonly referred to as fees the franchiser pays from its own coffers but, as I understand it, are really just customer charges going from you to the Borough through Comcast. 

Two things you should know : all the assets of PCTV are owned by the Pottstown Borough ; such as,  all hardware - cameras and their accessories, set decor,
electronics, furnishings, computers, taping needs, etc. Also, all the vehicles as they're equipped, plus all the archives are Boro owned. 

Secondly, under the original management agreement with, I believe, Maplewood Productions, and a parallel agreement with The Pottstown School District to lease space at the High School, PCTV was to provide lessons in television communication for high school students. If this was so, there should be numerous young adults more than able to help community activists in production and transmitting cable ready public interest shows. If not, why not !

Put the pieces together. The public owns the right to televise over three channels, the public owns the means to televise programing, the cable commission
federal act designates the three public interest areas, the borough controls what happens. One aside, as I questioned over the years, is the borough on solid legal ground when it allows our three public channels to carry advertisements for profit ?

I continue to believe our three TV channels should be used as designated by the government for the general public's interest rather than to be a means of the borough to sell advertising. For the benefit of the public, I suggest some organization interested in using this public access start asking tough questions.

Ronald C. Downie

Monday, February 27, 2012

Past Is Knowledge ; Future , Wisdom

Past Is Knowledge ; Future, Wisdom

Water, like thought, calms when slowed
Into deep pools at cool quiet depths
Where mud and murk bottom settles
To clear the liquid for it's final trip .

Thought, if not allowed to calm
And settle out busy nonessential 
Clutter that keeps the mental stream
Clean, finds no clear ideas will surface .

As water makes it's long journey 
To the sea, it encounters swiftly
Moving rapids and falls that roar
Before it again pools and calms .

So too, the mind's mental travel path
Must shoot the turbulences of doubt,
Navigate trouble, and evil, and fear,
Each cascading down until calm calms.

Ever since the early dawning of time
When water appeared on the earth,
It adapted to Earth's Natural Laws :
Repeat, repeat, over and over, repeat.

In his time, upright man found a force
Far beyond his physical prowess, when
The vast utter strength of his mental
Ability raised him above common beasts.

The sun, the moon, stars, earth, water,
The air, the eagle, fire, wind, and rain - 
Man would experience and then worship.
But, as with water, strong storms disturb,

Alters flows, and interrupts water's calm;
Quite common with Nature's Earthly way.
But thinking man dreams about the future
Thus he soon becomes uncertainty's victim.

The past is knowledge, the future, wisdom.
And through time knowledge accumulates,
But wisdom is fickle, and the needed spark
Not timely, so wisdom has to be nurtured.

Water flows everywhere to the very
Same Laws Of Gravity, while thought,
Not contained within our physical world,
Flows in a stream we all seek to posses.

Ronald C . Downie   

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Professional Staff

Professional Staff

If this is, as you, Evan Brandt, wrote in your article about the new director of Paid, " ... the Urban Land institute recommended, among other things, that economic development be taken out of the hands of politicians and put into the hands of a professional staff." the most intelligent way of inspiring economic growth in Pottstown, wouldn't it follow that promoting educational excellence would be best accomplished by putting it in the hands of a truly professional staff ?

Some of the least equipped politicians are those first time school board members many of whom where elected on single issue platforms. With very little training they took their seats with an idea to make their single issue the dominant theme of the new year. By enlarge, they're not the professionals the education system sorely needs. How many years have been wasted on board member bickering over the arcane idea of walkable schools. Walkable schools were mandatory for most students a century ago when one roomers were centered in small but more highly populated areas. This is the 21st Century quite different from earlier times. How many tax dollars have been spent on dusty, shelved architect studies ? I bet you can't guess !

School districts hire professionals to be educational superintendents, and principals, and teachers, and administrative managers but not to be therapists hired for immature school board members. Districts should be regionalized as already accomplished by The Intermediate Unit concept, something like twenty seven regions dividing up the state. Then existing school properties could be organized into a more efficient use of the public's assets. Taxes, however levied, would be broad based and used much more equitably for every student. Teacher's salary packages would be broadened out to the regions average, which in our Intermediate Unit area would be the whole of Montgomery Country.

Educational professionals are not to be confused with systems professionals. Each effective in their own field but are of different values to their bosses, the tax payers. Just as economical development is different from governance, so is running a school district's business different from teaching students. Until we accept these differences and climb out of the box titled, "We've Always Done It This Way", we will never change the system rooted in the thinking it still serves an agrarian era and imitates the structures of an industrial time.

Ronald C. Downie

Saturday, February 25, 2012



The new buzz word, re-localization, was dominant as a theme during a recent program on H2 called The  Prophets Of Doom. The panel discussed the most pressing issues of our time which, if not shortly addressed, will begin to cripple our way of life that we're used to. Re-localization is the effort to bring  as many life sustaining processes back into local proximity. 

One was, primarily, producing food as locally as possible realizing presently the average evening meal travels, it is calculated, 1200 miles before making it to the dinner table. Future transportation costs will prohibit this in upcoming years. Personal and public gardens will proliferate as well as the raising of animals for food. Urban areas will have to rework their ordinances to accommodate gardens and animal husbandry within their legal jurisdictions.  

Similarly, for wage employment jobs, factories and commercial type businesses must begin to be relocated closer to the more densely populated urban areas. Household items of disposable nature, those things purchased frequently, will more and more adhere to principals of re-localization just to keep their costs within reason. 

Energy will have to take on a local appeal by maximizing the renewals commonly called wind and solar. Natural gas produced for us near here in Pennsylvania may be a bridge energy for gaining time until some other renewable is developed. 

The panel also discussed other prospects of doom : 
-The fragility of the World wide financial system, 
-The reduced availability of potable water to quench
 the thirst of the World's burgeoning population, 
-A nuclear winter,
-the array of natural disasters, earth quakes, 
  volcanoes, tsunamis, comets

Re-localization is doable if we as a society don't get in its way before it establishes itself.

Ronald C. Downie

Friday, February 24, 2012

Haiku 76

Haiku 76

Haikus sounding an alarm for the unsuspecting :

Was poor, caught cancer;
Both came alone, unfriendly -
Each silent, snuck up.

The poor, moneyless, 
Without hope, without help, starve -
The rich eat lobster.

Do as Jesus did :
Feed the poor, care for the sick -
Lead revolutions.

The strong become weak
When challenged to accept change -
How else does Man grow ?

Forget me not, not
Because you are so special -
But, that you're honest.

Into the daylight,
Out from dark of ignorance -
March wisdom seekers.

Ronald C. Downie

Thursday, February 23, 2012

It All Depends

It All Depends

It all depends :
Upon your dreams
Behind closed eyes,
Drifting in and out,
Nodding off and on
Until total emersion.

Subliminal are images
Beyond the conscious 
Activities of the day.
Retreat, or to attack,
Go far away or return,
Be of a party, or not.

Immersed in reality,
Tempered by hot fire,
Clothed for deep cold, 
Hair finely brushed, 
Bathed in redemption,
Lost in a wilderness. 

Finding one's own self
Throwing off shackles,
Demanding of a mental
Strength deeply internal,
You gather up yourself 
For life's universal battle.

You ask, "Who am I ?"
And, "Why am I here ?"
Paging your remembrances :
Being in and out of faith,
Does science make its case,
Who pulls Heaven's strings ?

You think the unthinkable :
Do we pass only once through
This conscious state of life ?
No beginning, so there's no end ?
What is my next form to be ?
Am I bound up in this body ?

How these questions are answered 
Before an Endpoint of active life
May make a tremendous difference
To those you lovingly leave behind.
But, my friend, to you, the dismissed,
Heaven awaits your elements' arrival.

Ronald. C. Downie

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

From Adam's Rib

From Adam's Rib

When, oh when, will the shackled, muzzled majority finally awaken to throw off the mental chains imprisoning them to a subservient roll in life's structured pyramid ? When will you muted females assert yourselves to realize that your numbers are much greater than those of self the anointed males in power ?

Eve, from Adam's rib, began the mental dominance conjured up by male minds who wrote the compelling history of mankind (why not female kind?). Humans for eons have elevated themselves far above common beasts except in the realm of male superiority. Humans gathered first into tribes, then villages, now cities, states, nations predominately male led, though structured to adapt to a nurturing society led by the mothering instinct of females necessary for the guarantee of survival of the species.

Enter, the Church, male dominance personified to the extreme. Speak of the church and society can view shackled dominance not only of females but of the ignorant masses which crippled civilization for centuries called the Dark Ages.

Through the 20th Century females began stirring, finally they realized just how much under heal they had been subjugated. Their underrated strength in organization and realization of their raw numbers wakened some females into vocal action. They began to ride the tide while they trimmed their sails gaining voice in print and politics. 

Now, the mighty hand of religious zealotry begins its death nell grip again choking off long held gains females thought secure, while imposing even more draconian impositions on the sanctity of both the female body and its soul.

If there was ever a time in recent history for women's activism, the time is definitely now !

When the pendulum swings back to the past, it will be suspended there for many long, hard years while the female body undergoes wholesale anatomical reorganization. Again, if this happens, the house bound female will be charged with child bearing, child rearing - whether sound of body and mind or not - and the satisfier of her lord and master, her husband. "The days of wine and roses" will be only a dream of what could have been. 

The majority has an obligation not to allow this subjugation to happen. You by sheer numbers, may
if you desire, stop this insanity against womanhood. The ballot box is your sword which, in order to be of any use, must come out of its sheath and be used. Your vote is your life line that extends the worth of women forward into eternity. Your vote is a valuable asset, use it well.

Ronald C. Downie :

Son of a woman, married to a woman,  father of four women, grandfather to four women one yet a preteen, and great grandfather to two young girls who will become women. 

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

My Body Of Work

My Body Of Work

When my finger becomes a stump from pecking away
On my iPad, with just the right hand pointing one ;
I look at my body of work, shrug my shoulders, pray
That I'm not as lame in ability as thought by some :

Then gathering myself, I think, what the "Sam Hell"
Am I doing out in this arena of original thought ?
Me, a boy of the soil, with words pulsating to tell
Audiences about education's purpose, as it's taught :

And then, a Scottish Highland stubbornness invades
My innards and rescues an inbred arrogance for life.
If not me, who the hell will write of grand parades,
Of awakening flowers, children, theirs, and my wife ?

However menial the task, it's the full effort given
Which measures a person's metal, sung by the liven.

Ronald C. Downie
An English Sonnet

Sunday, February 19, 2012

A Cry From Mid-Space

Cry From Mid-Space 

God damned you, Dreams, 
whore no more to me, 
release me to covet grayness 
bleating from a sullen sky.

Don't show me violets pure
nor roses gay that cry
my inter soul awake.

No !  I must not think free !

Chain my mind, 
please stem that emotion swell
within this hide,
so I do not hope in vain.

In image of his maker 
man can train as oxen yoked 
to circle round the well.

I can not define mid- space 
where dreamers dwell,
so far sight a scene
then slowly squint it into
mental pictures,
like a frosted pane looked through.

Is it real ? Is it heaven ? 
Is it, well is it, hell ?

Hell must be theater
for a lost dreamer's soul.

Not in dance around soothing 
flames and crackling sounds
that flows the senses' veins ;
but of grey ash mounds 
staged of choking soot
awaiting to fill a dreamer's hole.

Accept the young, 
they have not traversed the gorge 
left by dreamers old 
whose torrent thoughts erode.

Fill the young with placid manna 
lest they explode with alien notions,
thinking they're their own Saint George. 

Dreams - damn you !  
Lay not your head 
on my breast this day.

Free me, so I may see 
what our Nation antes up.

Those dull, brow bent 
cast of actors who hold the cup,
that keeps America hostage 
and wastes a dreamer's play.

Ronald C . Downie    

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Not So Funny This Limerck

Not So Funny This Limerick

"May West" twin towers
Duce my eastern sky
And harangue dawn sun's
Awakening smile.

Concrete slip formed heavenward
Now plume gaseous 
Vapors steamed hot to
Cool the bowels of
Domed chain reaction.

So long familiar
Just formed white -grey clouds
Join with crossing winds
Whose path's direction
Unknown until trailed.

East the other day
I looked in dismay,
No vapors to veil 
The violet sky. Why?

"Three Mile Island" chill 
Raised my neck hairs to stand.
What monsters eons 
Past collage synapse 
To recoil this theme?

Gone is familiar so
Instinct rules the day.

"Shut down" they called it,
"Inadvertent though",
The official line.

Ronald C. Downie
When Limerick nuclear power plant malfunctioned.

Friday, February 17, 2012

What we don't know, yes, can hurt us.

What we don't know, yes, can hurt us.

If we picture a country that has : universal health care for its citizens, many paid holidays for workers, many paid weeks of vacation for those workers, and, above all that, the average worker's hourly rate of pay was $49.00 an hour, where on the World's scale of fiscal responsibility would you expect this country to be ? Certainly down near the bottom if we accept politically charged rhetoric being bandied about by sly opportunists seeking to put the middle class workers under heal.

Most likely you, just like me, would be wrong if we thought a country so described would be a basket case.

Germany, that dynamic industrial and financial engine powering The European Union, is the country pictured above. Yes, Germany, is the country being asked to bale out the economic wasteland which surrounds her and is a country which continues to build a middle class of upwardly mobile happy citizens.

Many of our Nation's Legislators fall into the abyss carved deep by those to the right and, especially, the far right who claim that beating down labor while enriching the effluent is in our country's best interest. To these, ignorance is bliss. The World needs more Germany's rather than, say, Greece or Italy or Spain's.

Put that stake - once and for all - through the heart of "trickle down economics" that worn out doctrine discredited by real examples of fiscal sanity. Learn to understand that the vastly increasing disparity between average worker's pay and CEO's pay can not continue to broaden. 

We can only capture tomorrow by understanding yesterday and working with the knowledge we have acquired today which will allow wisdom to surface. It is only through the successful use of gained wisdom that ordinary people can make extraordinary advances. 

Ronald C. Downie

Thursday, February 16, 2012

The Messenger Ancestor

The Messenger Ancestor

Dog-eared thoughts crease corners of my cerebral pages
Ancestrally bound by hardened covers of earlier ages.
Universal questions chapter this book that engages 
Me to write at this point in time. Please listen, my reply.

I have lived well beyond my half-life years.
Warm thoughts furrow happy acres, but, tears
Embedded deeply erode forgotten ancient fears
Wondering : "Why am I here?" and "Who am I ?"

Uranium encased rods are organized to squeeze heat
Into electric current, when spent, active life's complete.
But, until sealed to sleep decades of ten thousand years, feat
Required of our heirs, no stirring allowed nor restless cry.

Do atoms compressed into stiff rods differ that greatly
From DNA atoms strung like a pearl neckless neatly
To imprint fibers of the human body still physically
Evolving ? Atoms from the same early primal stew ply

Their way for eons until there present purpose found : one ,
Heat to electric; two, human imprint, a mental sun,
Brain waves at the center of a thought universe which run 
Not only backward but forward toward a cosmic try

To create a Supreme Being in our own image. Earth rendered
Subservient. Desired omnipotent, God was engendered 
Male by decree. With impunity, oppressors remembered
As cruel and debasing, unjust and inhumane, which flies

In the face of humanity. I'm here only by chance,
To do no harm so offspring of my DNA may dance
To the natural rhythms of Mother Earth. They will remember
Me, The Messenger Ancestor, not forced into sleep am I.

Ronald C. Downie

Wednesday, February 15, 2012



Capture life through your five senses :

Smell the sweet wisp of fresh fragrant lilacs .
Taste the sharp tartness of a ripe Winesap .
Feel the hand smoothed surface of antique wood .
Hear the murmuring of softly falling water .
See far western horizons painted mauve at dusk .

Somewhere beyond the obvious
Lurks an attitude, a sixth sense,
A resilience born flush of spirit
Drawn from a person's gene pool .

Grandfather at fourteen drove a 
Horse and wagon Penn State to Linfield ,
Then survived Europe's W.W. I .
Charlie with Florence produced ten .

The widowed grandmother left Scotland , 
Just missed the Titanic , but she caught
The Great Depression here in America
Where she raised six of her children .

Bent over with age , grandfather
Also caught the Depression, even so,
Andy Grey and Wee Annie raised four
Boys, Scots, who willingly chose America .

Evolved with an attitude - resilience 
Found deep within our forbearer's genes .

  Ronald C. Downie  

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Song Tune

Song Tune

The song,
The song of life,
The song of life is played in the key of time.

Seconds tick minutes into hours for days to find,
As weeks couple, bearing months, that years combine
Into passing decades etched forever on the mind.
Friends, in chorus, help harmonize the melody Devine;

But the tune,
The tune is ours,
The tune is ours alone,
But the tune is ours, ours, all alone to find.

Ronald C. Downie

This poem I cherish as my signature poem.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Seeking Our Resolve

Seeking Our Resolve

"When in the course of human events", do we stray 
Or remain in a direction that speaks to our resolve ?
Making a mark in life, our resolve. What is the way?
Ancestry commands all of its strengths must evolve :

Then, from the fringes into the middle, a line struck
Marking the optimum course to achieve desired goal.
Familiarity captains ship, reads charts, exudes luck,
All the while the groove is ground etching the soul :

And then, the die being cast, you put your shoulder 
To the task ahead committing yourself into action,
Finally realizing an unexamined life is not one bolder,
But one swinging widely poised to gain more traction.

Life marked to succeed by person's true grit gathers
Many followers. Desire to win with a winner matters.

Ronald C. Downie
An English Sonnet

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Wedge Issues

Wedge Issues

Way back then, mid 1940's, post WW2, Ringing Hill.
Here from hills overlooking Harmonyville, Chester Co.
Moved into our new two story home on N. Keim St. Early spring before leaves unfolded summer's form.

A wooded lot demands certain tools for grooming :
An ax for sure, a grind stone to sharpen it, a saw, 
Not any old saw, a man's saw, well really, a two man
Saw to fell tall trees blocking out all the sun light.

Dad had a garden in mind and gardens need sunshine
And he'd have sun no matter what. "Timber" echoed 
That spring. Save the house, save the chicken pen 
Turned into our tool shed, don't drop it on the car.

Gathering more tools for the job, Dad read about 
Felling trees the proper way. Sight the desired drop
Line, notch the tree trunk with an axe two foot up 
From the ground anticipating the path tree is to fall.

A two man saw takes team work, once started each person manning opposed ends must only pull the saw 
To them and relax when your team mate pulls back.
Pushing back is a no-no and only causes buckling up.

It's called pinching when the weight of the tree 
Exerts down pressure on saw blade stopping sawing.
Then a wedge must be inserted in the cut to spread
The saw line gap so pinching stops, cutting continues.

Those wedge issues were simple compared to today's.
Politicians try to spread citizens apart over hotly 
Contested topics : abortion, contraceptives, taxes,
Gay rights, segregation, wealth disparity, and debt.

The wedge to the tree was for a corrective action ;
For politicians, wedge issues are designed cancerous,
They are to slowly fester while gathering up speed 
To do the most harm, monkey wrench of discontent.

When a tree falls its branches are removed first,
The trunk is cut up in lengths suitable for stacking,
Then stacked loosely so they dry out for more easy
Splitting into useable pieces, our case was bon fires.

Summer memories were of Jersey relatives arriving
For vacations with tents tied to their old car roofs.
A sight similar to a religious tent meeting popped up
In our wooded back yard, the vegetable garden used.

Rarely seen today would be a tent city sight, except
What we've all seen on television, you know"Occupy"
As well as me. Kindred spirited people are gathering
Not unlike relatives did in my youth. The web of life.

Ronald C. Downie

Saturday, February 11, 2012

It's A good Day

Some poems need multiple readings, sort a like some songs need to sung over again to set the tune safely in the listener's mind. This poem needs multiple readings.

It's A Good Day 

It's a good day, Lily, for a walk, 
This second day of the new year.
Time, wrote writers, will march on
Either with us or leave without us.

Let's walk up this well used country lane,
So take my arm, since I'm a wee bit wobbly.
This reminds me a lot of early growing up 
Over in Chester County, in lush farm lands.

Look up there in the sun light along the bank
Why it's Tiger Lilies growing in all their glory.
They radiate such a lovely deep, orange color
And their speckled throats draw in many bees.

In the shade, over there beyond the stone wall,
I spy some low growing plants, let's pick flowers.
My goodness, these are bursting with fragrance
From little bells, oh, they're Lily Of The Valley.

Look ahead, just past the old mill at the mill pond,
Isn't that a bull frog sitting up on a floating pad ?
See how leaf pads caress the pure white flowers
Which cup up, calling, "I'm a Water Lily, fill me up."

Time to head back the lane arched over with trees,
Leaving peacefulness of this stroll behind as scenes
Fade but, over there in the field, what a beautiful
Display of pastel colors, Day Lilies grace our sight.

We often wonder what's in a name, like is it, fame ?
No, not that, that's too temporary. The name, Lily,
For example, is a pretty young girl growing into a 
Lovely lady which we proudly call - Granddaughter.

Ronald C. Downie
Love, Nanny and Pop Pop
January 2, 2012
A dozen of meaningful years !

Friday, February 10, 2012

Haiku 75

Haiku 75

Haikus that question Church male dominance.

Women's uterus, 
Epicenter of life's force -
"Garden Of Eden".

Females are equal ?
In pay ? In Church affairs ? And -
In reproduction ?

Men telling women,
"Do as I say ; not, I do" -
The great male decree.

Equality laws,
Demand all persons equal -
Where do women fit ?

How would government 
work if lead by a women ?
Less fighting, more Love.

Return to Eden, 
Forget the apple/serpent -
Males wrote the story.

Ronald C. Downie

Thursday, February 9, 2012

The Jilted Suitor

The Jilted Suitor

Never to be the jilted suitor,
DEATH, lifelong your cell mate,
Treads in that parallel universe
Whether you're asleep or awake.

Forever twins to the final end,
Inseparable as a mirror image,
In comedy, mime, or dire tragic
Events, traces one's own linage.

In a spiritual world, this unbeliever,
Creeping beyond shadow's inky image
Sweeps in on wings of dreams denied,
Its dank pallor casts dreaded luggage.

Found napping is the progenitor of CANCER,
Which stews in a fluid bile of harsh pollutants,
Spewing nameless poisons into weakened bodies
And finds an endpoint, death, from vile mutants.

DEATH seeks its very own pound of flesh.
Never will our own Grim Reaper be denied
It's place in the shadows, caring ever less
About prayer to a God deity, Heaven skied.

Ronald C. Downie.    

Wednesday, February 8, 2012



Long in years,            
when passions pout -

Old's seen change,   
heard hymn and shout -

Wondering still,
what life's about -

Fire in the belly,         
long turned to gout -

Thin's in,                 
so we shun the stout -

The long haired poet,           
termed a lout -

His poetic wish,                 
to shout it out -

Wisdom through thought,     
to live without -

We are the lesser,          
left yet in doubt -

Deep in years,       
time when passions pout-

Ronald C.Downie.   

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Haiku 74

Haiku 74

Haikus worth a 1000 pictures !

"Seventy Sixers",
In team work, their "Star" power -
Court Of Common " Please ".

"When the roll is called
Up yonder", yes, "I'll be there" -
Wrong direction ! Ron .

"Roll out the barrel",
Fill it up with campaign cash -
Money's talk. Bull Crap !

Children go hungry,
Politicians spend on ads -
Millions spent on hate.

How dumb are people ?
Corporations are people ???
How dumb are people ?

Stand up then speak out,
Your voice must join the grand choir -
Truth sings a loud tune.

Ronald C. Downie

Monday, February 6, 2012

Haiku 73

Haiku 73

-Haiku to herald in this sixth day of February, 2012.

Bright sunlight, blue sky,
My day of birth, a true gem -
Lift up thine eyes, Peace !

Love Downton Abbey,
Watching an era dissolve -
Stiff upper lip melts.

Money, money, drips
Into election's soft veins -
Junkies are hooked.

Thirty Million Jobs,
Dylan Ratigan marches -
Needed : fife and drums.

"Sanatoga Post",
Your eyes at your finger tips -
News you may summon.

Capture your own muse,
Life in the fast lane suffers -
"Quiet desperation"!

Ronald C. Downie

Sunday, February 5, 2012

A Universe Within

A Universe Within

Entombed within our mental mass universes
Await life. Sadly a dreaded stillbirth curses
Man to forego quantum leaps. Each generation
Slowly acquires knowledge in rapt anticipation.

Are we molded in his image by a God, personal ?
Centuries are strewn of carnage from temporal 
Piety, which fouled holy battlefields, claims Devine
Right demonstrating the horrid worst in mankind.

Awash in perpetual prayer pious true believers,
Self proclaimed, shroud wrapped, the soul receivers
Expect almighty benediction. Man's evolved creation
To ultimate extinction our lot. Demand salvation

During our lifetime by launching heart based
Missiles into the brain unhindered, not interfaced
With two thousand years awaiting Heaven or Hell.
Within you is a wonderful Universe - treat it well .

Ronald C. Downie

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Seize The Day

Seize The Day

When we look back while dreaming of the future
A fuzzy pallor dims images shy of real recognition.
Anticipated triumph, bright and clear, finds torture
Its antecedent, as wishful thoughts spur conviction. 

Then, by shaking off the strings of attachment,
We become caught up in time, real colors not hues.
Purpose fills voids, productive energy, commitment
Which has a chance to make a difference as muse.

And then, born of a dream, a path gains illumination 
From the beacon within you clearly lighting the way.
Character steps forth from a haze in full realization,
When a pathway is lighted, you must seize the day.

Unwittingly, our's is a struggle for a balanced life,
While pressing ahead, heeding past, shunning strife. 

Ronald C. Downie
An English Sonnet

Friday, February 3, 2012

Talking Out Loud

Talking Out Loud

Talking the talk, wishing to walk the walk,
Brings full circle a need to act, not just wish.

Playing the game instead of gaming the play
Allows yourself a chance for personal growth.

The score of a game etched forever in print,
The way a game played is only in our memory.

We climb higher on stronger branched trees 
That anchor down while taking in sustenance.

Birth is the union of man's sperm, women's egg
Independent of emotions initiating their fusion.

Death looms over our shoulders like morning fog ;
We're sure it will lift, but will we see the sun ?

Ronald C. Downie

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Sheer Church Steeples

Sheer Church Steeples 

Sheer church steeples spire to prick the sky,
Breach through which archangels can fly
Down, gathering in souls, their earthly try
To populate Heaven for their Lord on high.

Celestial maypoles heaved up by man
Anchored earth mud mired to the land.
Escaped the cave, down from the tree,
This two legged being in want of just be.

Just be, quite difficult alone by the sea,
Span of the Universe,"Immortality" asks he.
By chance or was Homo-Sapiens planned?
Heinous horrors logged under his command.

Pinioned in amber, preserved through time,
Cenozoic bee found perfect pre-pre-mankind.
Pollen's magi while lowly sperm still slime
Never dreamt God imaged in man's own kind.

Eternally fanning frenzied swift on wings
Pungent waif of sweet bloom nectar brings
Worker collectors with their death they atone
Their universe, Queen Bee, almighty on throne.

From your garden gently lift an open rose
Bring it within the scent stream of your nose,
Petal vapor ? Bee scripture ? Could be, I suppose.
Neither crucifixion nor armageddon myths they chose.

Ronald C. Downie.     

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The Arrival Of Superman

The Arrival Of Superman

Viral, when a news story goes viral, the whole World
becomes an oyster with the reporter wishing every grain of sand turned over produces a beautiful pearl.
The Mercury has found its oyster while investigating the Ugg saga. From a lowly story of ankle high furry boots which now, through dogged investigative crack reporting, uncovers a strange conspiracy involving, of all things, cinnamon. World Wars were fought over the control of the spice trade but they were many Centuries ago. Could The Mercury have uncovered a festering wound which has lain dormant all these many hundreds of years ?        

Just think of it, The Mercury back in the lime light, back when Pulitzer Prize winners were on the staff payroll. The two Tom's, Hylton and Kelly, may have to move over and make room for a modern day Clark Kent in the person of the new recipient, Evan Brandt. I can picture Evan in Superman attire popping up in many Alan MacBain cartoons. What an image !

Shanty Hill would be so proud, as would Bob Boyle who, if possible, would boat in from Bermuda, and even Joe Zlomek could come home from Sanatoga. I can see it all again, the Grand Parade down High Street complete with bands all wearing Uggs and floats extolling the virtue of moderation in the use of pungent spices. Picture Evan popping up from a large cake centered on the lead float while a recording plays "Ode To Ink" as Nancy March, form fitted into her high school cheer leading outfit, handles the baton like the true trooper she is.

I love a parade !
Ronald C. Downie