Book 37 for 2024: “Follow the Science: How Big Pharma Misleads, Obscures, and Prevails”, Sharyl Atkinson


The title tells it all. The author is an investigative journalist. The book is filled with details of varying science reports and studies. A lot of what she quotes is the opposite of the official narrative and science for vaccines in particular, especially those related to childhood vaccinations and Covid vaccines. Technically, both flu and Covid shots are not vaccines in that they do not keep the recipient from getting the disease in all cases like the vaccines for smallpox, measles, and polio do. This does matter in considering whether individuals should get the shots. She also discusses general public immunity in regard to flu and Covid, especially the latter. She also questions the claims that childhood vaccines as they are currently given never cause autism and whether some children are susceptible to extremely negative reactions to these vaccines when the majority of children are not. The main claim is that the giant pharmaceutical companies have enormous power to control the narrative about medications they produce, have huge influence with elected officials of both parties, and will do whatever it takes to make a profit on the drugs they manufacture.

Book 35 for 2024: “Woman of Interest: A Memoir”, Tracy O’Neill


In 2020, the author, Korean, adopted as a child, nearly 30, decides she needs to find her biological mother before her mother dies. Finding few leads, clues, she hires a private detective who disappears. Then she takes the task of investigating on her own. This book details her investigation, her long relationship with a Serbian furniture mover, life with the parents who adopted her, and her career as a writer, plus going to South Korea to meet her biological family.

Her writing style is a bit different and somewhat rambling. However, for those who have experienced the same sort of search, this book provides details on how to go about finding “the lost”.

Langston Hughes in Uzbekistan


It’s 1932.

Movie roles promised to 22 Black Americans.

“Black and White” in the

Uzbek Soviet Socialist Republic.

Treated like royalty, wined, dined, at

their own expense.

Hughes–ridiculous script. All went

home except Hughes. He stayed,

traveled, saw cotton grown from Aral

Sea water–now no water, desolate

desert.

In Tashkent, Uzbeks, Turkmen, Tartars

honored him, flowers, fruit.

No English.

He met a Red Army Captain from

high Pamir Mountains. Hughes

described him, Black with Oriental eyes.

Hughes called him Yeah Man.

He called Hughes Yang Zoon.

Weeks together never understanding

each other’s words.

Hughes’ poetry book

“The Weary Blues” first

American book translated to

Uzbek. Original English version

lost. He describes this new place:

“Look: here

Is a country

Where everyone shines.”

Note: You can find a version of this book translated into English from Uzbek by Muhabbat Bakeava and Kevin Young.

Book 34 for 2024: “The White Mosque”, Sofia Samatar


This memoir tells the tale of an unusual tour for a specific purpose, to follow the path of Mennonites who left Europe to escape conscription into the army since the Mennonites are pacifists. The author’s own life is unusual. Her mother was a Swiss Mennonite missionary to Somalia. Her Muslim Somali father taught the Mennonite missionaries Swahili. The two met and married. Samatar grew up and lives as a Mennonite. She teaches African and Arabic literature at James Madison Un. She is most famous for her fantasy novels and short stories which is how I discovered her writing.

In the late 19th century a group of German speaking Mennonites left Russia for Central Asia where their leader believed Christ would return. They suffered many hardships, rejection, abuse, but finally found a place that welcomed them in the Muslim Khanate of Khiva in what is now Uzbekistan. There they built a white church which the locals called Ak Metchet, the White Mosque. Their village lasted 50 years.

If you go online, you can find tours today that follow the route of these Mennonite travelers, trace their route. This book details Samatar’s experiences on the tour, the tour guides, the food, the architecture, the culture and the history: a 15th century astronomer king, the first Uzbek photographer, Mennonite martyrs. She also discusses her own unique upbringing, local beliefs and culture, how people develop their own personal identity, and the surprising interconnections people sometimes discover.

Autumn


As a summer person, I’m less excited than others I know to see it end. This abecedarian poem allowed me to experiment with words without searching for profound meanings, allowed me to play.

Autumn

brings

chills

dreary

evenings

fog.

Gone

heat

intense

joy.

Kindness

lingers while I

meander

near

oceans

playing

quickly,

running in

sunshine.

Tomorrow

under a

vanishing

wind in a

xeroscape

yard, I will

Zoom my next meeting.

An Abecedarian Poem for the Fourth of July


As many celebrate this day

because they see it as a joyous

cry in praise of the

day the United States declared

emancipation from English tyranny,

free to be its own country, self

governed, no longer ruled by kings,

humans, Black, enslaved,

indigenous, find celebration difficult.

Jefferson, in The Declaration of Independence,

knowingly called Native People

lacking in worth,

“merciless Indian Savages,”

never considering the contradictions, the

overt irony when compared to his view that

people are created equal.

Qualified, white male landowners, the

rich, voted, prospered.

Slaves, counted as only 2/3 a person, were

told to obey, work til death, be Christian.

Until all, regardless of race, gender, religion, are

valued as worthy humans, are free to prosper, can

walk proud throughout the United States,

xenophobia will destroy our founding ideals.

Yearn for, work toward, equity, kindness, be

zealous in our quest for a better country.

An Abecedarian Poem for Juneteenth


All slaves did not know freedom

because the powers in Texas

could not, or more likely,

did not want them to know.

Eventually, three years after Emancipation,

freedom came to Texas, June 19,1865, in

Galveston when General Grange proclaimed

henceforth enslaved people could not be

illegally held as property so Texas

joined the nation acknowledging that

keeping slaves was illegal.

Long held in bondage in Texas

many formerly enslaved rejoiced,

now looking forward to a better future.

Opposition arose almost immediately.

People did not want non-whites to hold power,

quickly responded by making new laws

requiring the formerly enslaved to

stay quietly in their homes.

They were informed no public gatherings allowed

under threat of arrest.

Void of the choices, they were forced to

work for low wages.

Xenophobia continues to reign,

youth taught Emancipation but not this.

Zany as it seems, 159 years later, prejudice continues.

Book 22 for 2024: “The Reluctant Fundamentalist”, Mohsin Hamid


Written in an unusual style, the narrator, the main character, tells his story to an American visiting Pakistan. While they are sitting eating dinner and later walk to a hotel, the narrator relates his life as an immigrant who found US life too shallow, too focused on profit. The narrator, a young, Pakistani man with an Ivy League degree, attains the heights of success in the US, working in a highly desirable career position where he is the star. After 9/11 occurs, he questions who he is, what working in this sought after career means, whether it is even ethical to work in a position for a firm whose job it is to investigate companies, their profits, and ruin the lives of the people who work there. He is sent to Chile to investigate a literary firm, meets the manager who takes him under his wing and helps him look at what he is doing in a totally different light. Is money everything? Do the lives of ordinary workers matter? In addition, it is a love story. He meets a beautiful, young, wealthy, US woman, they develop a close friendship, and he discovers she is not mentally stable and does everything he can to help her.

While on the surface this appears to be a story of a young immigrant who does not ultimately fit in with US life, it is much more. It raises the questions of the definition of success, of what love is, of profit over humanity.

A Tribute to My Mother


Barbie Doll

Barbara Lewis Duke, pretty, petite, blue eyed and blond, my

mother, one fearless, controlling woman. Long after Mom’s

death, Dad said, “Barbara was afraid of absolutely no one

and nothing.” They married late, 34 and 38. He adored her

unconditionally. She filled my life with horses, music, love,

cornfields, hay rides, books, ambition. Whatever she felt she

had missed, my sister and I were going to possess: books,

piano lessons, a college education. Her father, who died long

before I was born, loved fancy, fast horses. So did she. During

my preschool, croupy years, she quieted my hysterical night

coughing with stories of run away horses pulling her in a wagon.

With less than one hundred pounds and lots of determination,

she stopped them, a tiny Barbie Doll flying across the Missouri

River Bottom, strong, willful, free.

Note: This poem about my mother has been published in at least one anthology and my book of poetry. My mother loved roses, had a rose garden. I now grow roses too.

Poems


I started out thinking I would write a poem per day for National Poetry Month. Well, I’m a bit behind on that, but here are two of several I have written so far.

Spring

The mockingbird awakens me with his song.

A hummingbird, dressed in green with an iridescent

orange collar, flits by my head then sips nectar

from a scarlet bougainvillea blossom.

The neighborhood barn owl hoots at dawn and dusk.

A black and red/orange bird I’ve never seen before

lights on a palo verde limb.

A Western Bluebird dips its beak repeatedly in

the talavera birdbath.

Remember

In this world steeped in senseless violence remember

each day to find a piece of beauty:

-rosebuds opening

-the scent of jasmine

-a friend’s smile

-a bit of birdsong

In this world ravaged by wars remember

each day to find the jewels of joy:

-listen to a child’s laughter

-dance to a favorite song

-walk in the morning sunshine

-tell someone you love them