Aldon Hynes's blog

#NaPoWriMo: 25: Lawn SIgns

Lawn signs don’t vote
not old adage goes,
but they certainly show up
in droves
near election day
crowding out
their familiar cousins,
the realtors’ signs.

Some pop up
at busy intersections
with good visibility
where nobody lives.

Those are frequently seen
but don’t carry the same weight
as the signs on a neighbor’s lawn
which doesn’t tell you a lot
about your neighbor’s views
that you didn’t already know,
but still they mean something,
when someone is willing
to put their beliefs
on the shirt sleeves
and beside their driveways.

Most of the signs
soon after
election day
but some linger
reminding voters
of candidates who lost
but are not forgotten.

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Why I’m Voting for Bernie Sanders in the Democratic Primary Tomorrow in Connecticut

A lot of my friends are supporting Hillary Clinton for President. A lot of my friends are supporting Bernie Sanders for President. Many have been presenting good reasons to support their candidate. I like both candidates and would be glad to vote for both of them.

Some of my friends have been pointing out flaws with the person they are not supporting. I see plenty of flaws with both candidates. There is only one candidate I’ve ever voted for whose political beliefs seemed to perfectly align with my own, and some might even question that. I am, of course, talking about when I voted for myself when I’ve run for various offices.

I believe that Hillary is likely to win tomorrow, and my vote and my blog post are unlikely to change that. Even if she doesn’t win Connecticut tomorrow, I expect she’ll go on to receive the nomination.

So, by voting for Bernie in the primary, and Hillary in the general, I will end up getting to vote for both of them.

Another aspect of the election is that as a progressive, I would like to see an idealist elected. I believe Bernie is close to my views both as a progressive and as an idealist. As an idealist, I will vote for Bernie in the primary. Some have suggested that Clinton would be more effective as President. She knows how to play the game, get things done. She’s the practical choice. I’m not sure that the first woman president will have much better luck in dealing with obstructionists than the first black president has, so this argument doesn’t carry as much weight with me as it might with others. However, I will admit that Hillary is probably the stronger practical choice. I expect to make a practical choice in the general election.

So, how do we get the most progressive candidate elected president? We vote for the idealistic progressive candidate in the primary so that when the practical choice runs in November and hopefully becomes president in January, she will know that she needs to answer to both the left and the right.

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#NaPoWriMo 24: Eucharistic Prayer

The Eucharistic Prayer
pounded the shore
like an ever changing

“Holy and gracious Father: In your infinite love”
and the wave paused
as it rolled back
preparing for the next
coming crash.

In the silence
the seabirds could be heard
running ahead of the waves
giggling in the
play and pray area
or wandering down an aisle.

“He stretched out his arms upon the cross”.
another wave crashed

Still the children fidgeted
parishioners turned pages
and that too
was familiar,
and reassuring.

“On the night he was handed over to suffering and death”,
someone forgot to mute their phone
and we were all reminded
of the world he died for.

“Take, eat: This is my Body “
The homeless man
who smelled a bit funky
started to drool.
Saturday had been a rough day
without much bread.

“and when he had given thanks”
It had been a long time
since she had sat amongst friends.
After her husband died
and she moved to be closer to her kids
who would visit her when they could.
She had stopped going to church,
until by chance
she crossed the threshold
one Easter Sunday
and was welcomed.
“We’ve been waiting for you”
Someone seemed to say.

“Therefore we proclaim the mystery of faith”;
the faith of the children playing,
the faith of the hungry homeless man,
the faith of the lonely grandmother,
“in unity, constancy, and peace”
and the waves of grace
continued to pound
the broken shore.

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#NaPoWriMo 23: The Door

There was a door in my dream.
That was it, a simple ordinary door.
It was a solid door
unlike those
you find in so many houses
that you could put a fist through
and regret for years.

The door was white
with a nondescript handle
on the left.
It was slightly ajar,
perhaps an inch or two
nothing more.

It was dark on the other side
still hiding something

Nothing felt dangerous
about what was on
the other side.
I just needed
to build up my courage
to reach down
turn the handle
and cross the threshold.

I was sure I would enter
brightness and joy
but still
I was afraid.

I awoke
to return
and see
what is on
the other side.

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Catching Up

It’s been a fairly quiet Saturday, a day of rest and of catching up. I posted my poems from Thursday and Friday earlier today. I’ve written the first draft of today’s poem, which I will post later, probably tomorrow. I’ve written in my journal, and some of that may find its way into a blog post and I’ve done more in the Modern Poetry class I’m taking. Some of the stuff I’ve written there will most likely become a blog post later on.

On Facebook, I joined a discussion about altar rails in the Episcopal Church and about the upcoming primary. I added a snarky comment to one discussion about Harriet Tubman on the $20 bill. Some people have been posting comments questioning how they could do that, she’s not a president. Others have pointed out that Franklin and Hamilton weren’t presidents either. The response to that is, “Yeah, but they were founding fathers.”

To this I replied, “How can we maintain the patriarchy if we allow people who aren't fathers on our currency?!

I shared a news article about a judge joining a veteran with PTSD behind bars

For my friends trying to understand mysteries like the incarnation, crucifixion, resurrection, and how we make sense of them; a real life parable:

The kingdom of God is like a judge who sentenced a man to prison, and then spent the night with the man in prison, showing love and sharing personal stories.

I did some laundry, a dump run, and some yard work. Perhaps not as much resting as I would have liked or should have done, but it has been a good day.

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