652 Push Back 1-19-17 (go to 580 for key word search)

what we believe
to be our own truth
is merely the opposite
of what we pushed back from.
The fight to prove the
of our hard found faith,
of what we have come to believe
is self-authenticating truth,
becomes so solid a system,
so sclerotic, so arthritic,
we are rendered blind to nuance,
to the efficacy of different roads.

So, Father
pushed back,
escaped one week before his much planned Bar Mitzvah,
from his Jewish home,
from his drunken and, to him,
hypocritical father,
into the waiting arms of his
atheist, socialist Uncle Morris,
swallowed the Party line,
becoming my Communist Party Daddy.

So Mother
pushed back
from her nare-do-well,
vagabond, Irish father
into the protection of a female fortress
whose walls were her Norwegian
mother, aunts and grandma
and was baptized into their Seventh Day-Adventism
(against which she would later rebel,
return to, rebel and return)
and into the belief that
all men are bastards
and she could prove it
if she would just wrought iron hoops
hotter and tighter around them
until they prove their bastardry
by, partially scorched, abandoning,
freeing Mother, her faith vindicated,
to wait for the next
proof of her life’s creed,
even if he is her only begotten son,
and who, in her final senility,
grabbing my gray-bearded chin,
screamed, “You look just like Him!”

(Did I look like her father or mine?)

He who,

when I had pushed back far enough,
and found a belief on the opposite end of his liturgy
and proponents who moved me further into what became my belief,
(against which I would later rebel)
responding to my query about our
remaining connection to Jewishness,
“Why don’t you stop with that bourgeois bull shit and start reading Marx!!”


Pushing back against anything, triggering
the equal and opposite reaction law of physics,
applied to the realm of thought and belief,
forses us to an extreme where
we may not really want to be,
but must defend the ground anyway,
to affirm what we have become.

the only thing we can do
is wait until the force we pushed back on
crumbles, dies,
and we are orphaned of it.

Then, begin again,
like toddlers,
the bumbling, stumbling
search for our

About Ken Greenman

Married and Happy. Retired and busy. Living in NC. 71 and counting. December 12, 2020 and it's 72! ... I would love some written comments, critiques, adulation or kind suggestions.... If you have the time and or inclination, please feel free! Not in fear but by faith. We will see. See you later! If you ever want to talk for real, email me and I will send you my cell number.... I am enjoying this!
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