Pat Connors
Mourning
January 9th has been declared a day of mourning
by our neighbours to the south. This is to mark
the passing of Jimmy Carter, an uncelebrated
politician yet one of the greatest men of this age.
Meanwhile, wildfires in Los Angeles rage
as they have for two days. There are reports of 5 dead,
not including pets and wild animals, and 100 buildings
destroyed. These numbers must be greatly understated.
As of 3:30 this morning, Pacific Time, there are five wildfires.
Like all great battles, they have each been given names. One
of them, Palisades, is on its own the most destructive ever
recorded in Los Angeles, and is zero per cent extinguished.
The skill and courage of the emergency personnel are
no match for these infernos, especially when they all erupt
at the same time. The water pressure recedes until hydrants
run dry and the firefighters energy and hope ebbs.
It hadn't rained very much for many months. Today it rains
wood, slag rock, and adobe, blown by near hurricane force
Santa Ana winds. Pre-dawn is ablaze with apocalyptic light,
and the afternoon sky is dark and fearful as night.
Will insurance brokers aid those who paid their premiums?
What of the middle income and poor who have lost
everything, when even the wealthy and famous watched
in horror as their houses razed to the ground?
Earlier this week, Justin Trudeau prorogued parliament
until March 23rd. While this gives him time to prepare
for his impending career change, the government should
be getting ready for unnatural disasters of our own.
Where are the servant-leaders like Jimmy Carter?
How many more cities must burn before we make
a real effort to save the planet?
It is Not Over Yet
Por Lucho, el 26 de julio
You are overwhelmed.
No matter how hard you try, you are driven to despair.
The struggle is all there is, and leaves no time for rest.
You can only find strength in anger, and even that passes.
You feel you are about to give up hope.
But it is not over yet.
The greatest struggles often begin with brutal loss.
You are humiliated, injured, and believe you are defeated.
You scream and swear at the unfairness of it all.
Yes. It is unfair.
And you can’t do anything about it.
Except not to be the one who caused the problem.
And never stop fighting against injustice.
And never be defeated.
This is not the final battle.
There will be many more.
Do not let that thought make you afraid.
You will not win all the battles.
You cannot win all the battles.
But you will see the final victory before it is declared.
You are on the right side of history.
All you have to do is claim it.
All you have to do is accept it.
Return
I’m going to get up and go back to my Father - Luke 15:18 (a) CJB
Late August, when the air begins to turn.
Warblers, tree swallows, and red-winged blackbirds
start to migrate to warmer lands down south.
They are unencumbered by regional differences,
questionable borders, and petulant import tariffs
which threaten more permanent barriers.
These birds, so different yet so alike,
find their flocks and fly together to keep
true to their bearings and discourage enemies.
When they fly away they take their birdsong
with them - the cheery chirp which carries
newness through the air each morning.
And then the days get shorter, until there is hardly
any day at all. The blustery storms of winter
and life engulf me in their barren coldness.
Every challenge of life becomes a reason to be bitter
about circumstances designed to make me better.
I am obsessed with proving myself righteous.
But I am not righteous. Each day I commit sins, even
the same ones I have done before and will do again,
for which I must seek forgiveness.
A Different Kind of Advent Poem
A man steps on the bus and says Merry Christmas to our driver. His worldly possessions spill over the sides of a shopping cart. A lady gives him her seat and he says Merry Christmas to her.
Across the aisle, a guy in a Highlands Country Store touque asks him where he will sleep tonight. It's not too cold out there, he says, taking off his own hat to reveal matted hair dyed blue.
It isn't as cold as it will get, but cold enough to shock my system after being inside all day.
I couldn't imagine being out in this air all night, any longer than I have to be.
I am on my way to a holiday party. I am grateful to be invited, as I was to say Grace at the wedding reception of another friend last weekend, the night before the first day of Advent.
I enter my favourite sushi bar on the Danforth, because I don't want to go to the party hungry. Although the restaurant is nearly empty, I am seated next to a family of four.
I type these lines in rough on my cellphone and take a sip of Sapporo in order to feel a bit less awkward. The girls are adorable, and their mother apologizes for this incontrovertible fact.
Advent is a season of beginning. In my faith life, I wait in joyful hope for the blessings to come.
In my daily walk, aside from treasured moments, I feel bitterness and despair in December.
I dwell upon the things that are missing, that haven't yet happened, and let these become the sum total of my life, until I remember where I am going and to appreciate what I have.
The fun face I put on at the party for my friend and his sister and his brother-in-law was generally genuine and honest and for once I didn’t feel like I was pushy or anxious.
I took an UBER home and asked Faisal about his family and he asked about mine and we said
A-Salaam-Alaikum and Wa-Alaikum-Salaam as he dropped me at home and then I went to sleep.
 |
| Pat Connors |
Bio: Patrick Connors first chapbook, Scarborough
Songs, was released by Lyricalmyrical Press in 2013, and charted on the
Toronto Poetry Map.
Recent publications include Spadina Literary Review, Asemana Magazine, Spirit Fire Review, and Dissident Voice.
Recent publications include Spadina Literary Review, Asemana Magazine, Spirit Fire Review, and Dissident Voice.
- His first full collection, The Other Life,
was released in 2021 by Mosaic Press.
- His most recent chapbook, Worth the Wait, was released in 2023 by Cactus Press.
- His latest collection, The Long Defeat, was released in 2024 by Mosaic Press.
