According to information I’ve read over the last couple days, the Supreme Court is set to hear oral arguments next week that relate to same-sex marriage. With nearly 150 friend-of-the-court briefs already filed, the justices will hold an extended (2½ hours) hearing.
As I understand the issue, SCOTUS will be grappling with the Constitution’s Fourteenth Amendment which was ratified in 1868, granting US citizenship to former slaves. Suffice it to say, I’m not Constitutional scholar, but I can certainly read the text of this amendment and understand why it was adopted as part of our Constitution.
I’ve posted before about my views on marriage, its sanctity, its central role in growing children who are happy, well-adjusted and secure. I’ve made numerous observations about how devastating divorce can be, the ongoing struggles children of divorce encounter throughout their lives. Why any parent would choose his or her own “happiness” (narcissistic delusion) over a child’s health and well-being is beyond me!
Often, when I compose, random ideas begin gathering and they eventually coalesce into a theme. When a poem is nearly complete, I think about an appropriate connection to potential topics I’m considering for future posts. On at least half a dozen occasions, I made a conscious choice to set aside the poem posted below. My reservations about it were predictable. Is the poem stereotyping? Is it sexist? Is there a feminist in the country who won’t consider my first line objectionable? A girl is just a girl.
Still, as SCOTUS prepares to hear the arguments on an issue that strikes at the foundation of our country and cultural moorings, this seemed the most appropriate time to post the sonnet … for better or worse … because in the end, not only does the family matter, but those little ones who are being sheltered there deserve to have their innocence guarded from the onslaught of muck and brutality that is everywhere around them. If we can’t save the country, at least let’s try to save the precious and irreplaceable children!
3 thoughts on “Children In The Crosshairs”
I am a family/parenting social worker, and father of a boy and a girl. This one hits home with an economy of verbiage.
“Amok” – yes, that’s the word!
[On at least half a dozen occasions, I made a conscious choice to set aside the poem posted below. My reservations about it were predictable. Is the poem stereotyping? Is it sexist? Is there a feminist in the country who won’t consider my first line objectionable?]
I feel this way about poems I am posting for NaPoWriMo.
Some of mine are way out there – but I have worked and re-worked them and they do nothing sitting as dashboard drafts, right? Damn the torpedoes.
By the way, as a pipe smoker I LOVE that pic of Arthur Miller just to my right…
Thanks for commenting. I share your commitment to getting your poetry out there. I think you’ve written some exceptional poems! It’s always a character-builder to bleed profusely while other people casually look on. But it’s also freeing … the blood-loss notwithstanding.
Pipe-smoker, huh? One of a vanishing breed. I don’t think I know anyone else in our circle who smokes a pipe but I do enjoy the fragrance.