Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Sonnet 23

Ideals From Ideas

When, from your basket of dreams you pull out
Thoughts from earlier years which laid out ideas
Not yet realized, sort of detoured, changed route.
Mentally churned many ideas mature into ideals :

Then, as always, years accumulate dimmed decades :
Raising family, building a career, avoiding ill health,
Hopefully attaining stature among piers. Accolades,
Anemic statements, bring neither health nor wealth :

And then, the grandeur of an aging mind brings hope.
Earlier thoughts incubated over many years surface
To format a lifetime of wants, ideals ready to cope.
Now, after winning the battle of time, we save face.

If not from our mental cauldrons where do ideals
Come from ? Ultimate importance churns from ideas.

Ronald C. Downie

Sonnet 26

The Emperor's Cloths

When an overwhelming argument must come out
To bolster an awfully weak set of made up facts,
A candidate must keep a straight face, no pout.
Voice must not quiver or sound lower, stage acts.

Then, if the voting public has bought into the guise
An artful candidate, though deceitful, may survive.
Today's voters, under assault of Big Money, a prize
For billionaires, the difference, voters are yet alive.

And then, if the time comes to govern the country
A charlatan starts to show weakness of an ingrate.
Core convictions fail the test of governance, clumsily
Undoing that which made this Country so very great.

Voting must be an effort to best educate yourself,
So you see through the Emperor, who cloths himself.

Ronald C. Downie

Monday, August 29, 2016

Charged Up

"If you snooze you lose", is a commonly thrown around phrase suggesting for you to stay awake or life swirling around you will dry up  and you'll be left behind. I snooze, I snooze a lot, and to be truthful everything around me is drying up and I'm left behind. So what ! Who the hell wants to be on that endless treadmill forever ? Paid my dues while active, now inactive and falling behind and find myself waving to those on the treadmill as they pass in review, hair swirling, cloths ruffled, their cell phones ringing loudly though it's not me on the other end. Excuse me, need to nap a bit !

Ronald C" Downie

Thursday, August 25, 2016

Red As A Beet

Did I hear it correctly ? If elected, Donald Trump would be the oldest elected candidate ever. Yes, all others were younger males, from way back, all males back to the beginning of our nation. This year is our chance to change the course of history and elect a women to run our great country. Her contender, speaking at 2:15 PM in New Hampshire, looks as red as a beet in face and hands, you know the look , looks of a liar's face flushed and swollen.

Going back to New York City each night Mr. Trump, we would think would look rested, not flushed and ranting. Like a barker at a county fair, this ripe red faced ring master, reads his rants from a teleprompter hollering out in a high shrill which intensifies his flushed demeanor. Could it be that he falls asleep in his personal suntan booth that colors both his hair orange and his skin red ? Is there something more to his returning home each night besides having a trophy wife waiting there for him ?

Somewhere out there in cyber space there could be another conspiracy theorist detailing a story about an elderly man who has sufficient wealth that can pay for medical treatments which rejuvenates him over night. Something along those lines could be a bomb shell if true. I've no knowledge of nor stomach to propagate such a story but some out there do, realizing what is being said all the time on the Internet. Sounds kind of James Bond'ish !

Ronald C Downie
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

Song Tune,   www.thepostedpoet.blogspot.com

Song Tune is my signature poem suggesting time is the greatest regulator of each of our lives, segmenting periods of living at song, culminating finally in our own personal tune. It is the tune, people; really, folks, it's your own tune that makes your life pulsate.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Modern Man

Purpose is to a modern man
As plunder's to a Pirate's plan.
Each fulfills either want or dream
By honest work / devious scheme.

Trumpets blare, grand march on tap, as
Spectators shuffle, some wait jazz ;
While others, caught up, seek pageant.
Most breath easy, alł are content.

Coffee after juice, buttered toast,
An egg and bacon, tonight roast
Beef, potatoes, and green string beans.
Glass red wine, if you have the means.

Simple life, ordinary, normal :
Work, eat, sleep not very formal.
He looks at simple things, poem like :
Eight beats, few rhymes, some keys to strike.

I am the drummer in the band
Cause they can hear me cross the land.
Words come a plenty, time to time,
Now all dried up, the end, it's fine !

Ronald C. Downie

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Commentary : You Need To Know

Yesterday was quite eventful. Two media related events woke up my senses enough for me to describe them to you today. First, a copy of Charlie Reece's final editorial was shared with me by a cousin in Bayonne, N.J., Bruce Piggot, who is my mother's brother's son and is a huge Bernie Sanders fan. Bruce keeps me abreast of cutting edge information the World should know about.

Reece wrote about the influential 545 governmental officials out of over 300,000,000,000 citizens who are legally in charge of running the United States Of America. Total, all, everything pertaining to operating our government, Charlie points out, directly stems from one or more of these officials either through their votes or appointments. If there is a problem of governing the finger is directly pointed at them, "the buck stops with them".

If you vote, you are these officials boss. You're their boss and best you realize it, best you make them toe the line. Your disgust with any facet of government directly stems from one, some, or all of the 545 people. The ballot box is your ally. Treat it well. Vote!

Secondly, I saw the film, "Man Of The Year" starring Robin Williams as the comedian, Tom Dobbs, who is deviously elected President of the USA. Everyone should try to view this film during election season since Williams asks the questions only a comedian asks but, in hind sight, we all should be asking questions at every election.

This eye opener of a movie, brought to us through Chris Matthews' supporting roll as himself of Hardball fame, twists and turns as it tries to bring home the theme - how we're governed is up to each of us - each of us questioning before we use the power of the ballot. Check both out. Make a difference !

Ronald C. Downie

Sunday, August 21, 2016

That Cranial Mass

Minds run the gamut - they distinguish doubt :
They determine right from wrong, honor from
Evil, beauty from common, frown from pout.
Minds untangle complexities - have some ?

Minds absorb like a sponge, education's
The ultimate filler, it is the best
To leave the old, gain association.
Paramount is the mind, best of the rest :

And then, when full, the active mind directs
Each person along a path. Fulfillments
Buoy the ordinary, elevating, selects
A path more tried and true, it compliments :

The path to knowledge is both up and down -
Deep valleys, high peaks - place wise thoughts abound.

A Sonnet :
Ronald C. Downie

Friday, August 19, 2016

It's Only Distance

Getting nostalgic - living at my new home, thinking of old times - that compels me to write in words which describe my feelings. It's funny : daybreak on the west coast of Florida comes about an hour later than it does in southeastern Pennsylvania meaning the Gulf Coast is further west then up in Pottstown. It's just a fact needing to get used to. Troublesome urinary problems awaken me throughout the night so at daybreak, whether up north or down here in Nokomis, I'm awake, no matter if the clock shows 5 or 6am.

When I was quite young, 6am was often my awakening hour, not to get up and get going, but to turn the radio on to WOR , New York, so I could hear Jan Peerce singing "The Blue Bird Of Happiness". Each weekday morning the station played this quite long record in its entirety. I'm going to bring it up now and listen to it. By God, this did take me back to the early 1940's when "the only thing I had to fear was fear itself."

From a ten room house, a large front porch, a detached garage, and big, big oaks  to a Florida ranch with pool, a lanai, hot tub, and two small dogs my life goes on. "Keeping my needs to a minimum and my wants to almost nil" life revolves around a walker, a lift up chair, a hospital bed and windows. Year round air conditioning and my daughter's physical assistance makes southern living so much more tolerable. I really like this new home Lia and Marty have provided for Connie and me.

Ronald C. Downie

Thursday, August 18, 2016

The Sleaze Factor

Sleaze runs rampant during political campaigns, this one's no exception, in fact, this one's sure to set unbreakable records. Let's see, one campaign has changed managers for the third time and, in doing so, each new addition must out do the earlier by sensationalizing even greater the falsehoods previously spread around. Thickening layers of sleaze become, more and more indigestible, like piling on a velveeta cheese sandwich so much more cheese that it sticks to the roof of your mouth and keeps you from swallowing. Sleaze gags you, too.

"Crepe Suzette" some argue, not sleaze. My detractors rather bring down then build up. Their's is of guts and guns, devious and denial, and of slime and sleaze. Their anchors dig deeply as seas rise and their ice makers hum while glaciers degrade and melt. Their World is not mine, your's maybe, definitely not mine. We're World's apart.

I have outlived Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Tojo, Ho Chi Min, Tito, Joe McCarthy, Nixon, and many others of their horrid ilk. Their common denominator seems to have been, "having no shame". Shame is a person's self regulator by imaging in one's mind the degradation of an act if done on one's self. Zealots seem to languish in their deficiency of having a sense of shame in their character. They feel no pain in exerting pain on others; therefor, they are masters of sleaze. Beware !!!

Ronald C. Downie

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Snow Birds

Just like the "Gods of Snow Birds" are looking out for Connie and me now in Florida, so to, should the northern "Gods of North Evans Street" keep watch over Daisy, Gladys, Barry and Brenda, the girls, both corner houses at St Johns, Sammy and family, and all walkers of dogs.

No matter how far a field a person roams, it is said, the person always takes his " giant with him ". Giant meaning his home or hometown. More apropos pertaining to me would be : this journey of mine which started with my first step - as all journeys must begin - and won't end until all memories are wiped clean. Since a journey is only a direction of travel, it becomes then a book of memories, memories are the only thing a person may take with them into their final demise.

Ronald C. Downie

Monday, August 15, 2016

Thank You All

Settling in and mellowing out in Florida so it's time to thank everyone who responded to my earlier post. Thank You !!!

It's sunny and warm during the day but comfortable in the shade. Blue skies dissipate around 4Pm with a short thunderstorm - the old way us northerners remembered Florida - raining some every day in  Summer's late afternoon

Went in the pool, day one, but on day two, got a much needed shower, first good washing in a long, long time. The outside pool shower suited me fine because it's roomy enough to accommodate a seat and my walker too. I feel so clean today that I probably squeak. Impaired people desire not the big things in life but, the little ones, the simplistic daily things most healthy mobile people take for granted.

For now, Old Pops

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Arriving Safely In Florida

After two and a half hours of peddling and flapping our arms we finally landed at Punta Gorda, Florida : Friday, August twelfth just past noon. Winging south from Allentown aboard Allegiant Airlines for a flying time of two hours and seven minutes that felt like thirty minutes of incline, a little over an hour with the hammer down at 500 miles an hour, and thirty minutes of descent. Landing in Florida with a loud bump woke up the passengers who had enjoyed a non eventful flight. "All's well that ends well."

Connie's and my life starts a new chapter in this Earth oriented journey. Our children : Heather, Ronnie, and Lia (our Florida host along with Marty) will enable Connie and Me to comfortably live out our lives here. We can never express enough gratitude to our children and our grandchildren for making this happen as seamless as possible. To friends left behind, we'll never forget you even though we're 1200 miles apart. Lie 's calling me now to come in the pool so I'll say for now, "gotta go". A whale out of water is one floundering - sounds like describing me.

Love You All.
Ronald C.Downie

Monday, August 8, 2016

Join Vera Lynn, "We'll Meet Again"

I am a product of the Second World War being an elementary student throughout the bitter conflicts. When it ended with unfathomable destruction from two Atomic blasts in Japan;  I, as a ten year old, cringed from the magnitude of destruction.

Much later, when the movie, Doctor Strangelove, was being shown in movie houses across the World, I again shuttered at the movie's final scene. There again was the mushroom cloud billowing up to the lyrics of Vera Lynn singing "We'll Meet Again" posing the ideas "don't know where, don't know when" to her listeners.

That was 1964, this is 2016, and I get that cold chill yet when thinking of the finality of civilization with today's nuclear power. I doubt if our planet could ever recover from a nuclear conflagration ! Even worse then would be : the blistering heating up of our planet fanned by mindless, greedy, money grabbers who deny involvement.

Adding flame to hot embers is a candidate for presidency of our powerful nation. No matter what he says, his lifetime of actions point us to question his stability if he gets control of the nuclear button. So often in his business life he discounted human decency and true business acumen to squeeze subcontractors into bankruptcy. Now at 70, Donald leaves the business field strewn of bodies not unlike a scene from Japan's holocaust.

Maybe someday, "God willing", when a remake of the movie, Dr. Strangelove, is ordered, Donald Trump will be cast as one of the many deranged figures who played loosely with the nuclear button. Better he play a part in a movie rather then actually have the real responsibility of the nuclear button. At least, by then, I'll be but a memory, forgotten by most, not even an after thought to the World. Just so Vera Lynn sings in her inimitable way drawing audiences to sing along with her. Will there be a meeting beyond this life ? I doubt it, but I'm getting closer every day to finding out.

Thank You and Good by,
Ronald C. Downie