I was an exhausted hater

Artwork by @revelatori

This is why all the angry haters who want to exert their morality will ultimately lose. So loud with righteous indignation, that even if they wanted to listen, they couldn’t hear.

In the meantime, the thoughtful majority sit patient, open-hearted, tolerant, unbiased, fact-focused. They have nothing to lose, because they have no agenda, no need to control.

The heart exerts so little to be, it absorbs without end, while hate constantly burns…an exhausting state, and sooner or later, is overwhelmed by love.

I know this, because I was a hater, wasting my energy, until I became “woke”.

It was then I realized my energies had better uses than pointing out obstacles.

That’s when I switched from “You can’t” to “Yes, you can.”




Leading means diplomacy, not bragging.

It means fostering inclusivity, not exclusivity.

Leading means empowering individuals, not accusing groups.

It means maintaining peace, and discouraging violence.

Leadership means being a representative, not a celebrity.

Leadership, at the highest levels, is being a thought leader.

I lie, but never get away with it.

face off


When you get what you want in your struggle for self,

And the world makes you King for a day,

Then go to the mirror and look at yourself,

And see what that guy has to say.


For it isn’t your Father, or Mother, or Wife,

Who judgement upon you must pass.

The feller whose verdict counts most in your life

Is the guy staring back from the glass.


He’s the feller to please, never mind all the rest,

For he’s with you clear up to the end,

And you’ve passed your most dangerous, difficult test

If the guy in the glass is your friend.


You may be like Jack Horner and “chisel” a plum,

And think you’re a wonderful guy,

But the man in the glass says you’re only a bum

If you can’t look him straight in the eye.


You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years,

And get pats on the back as you pass,

But your final reward will be heartaches and tears

If you’ve cheated the guy in the glass.


The Guy in the Glass, Poem by Dale Wimbrow


Hope springs eternal

Curved vessel

Hope stirs, I spy a curved vessel,
Do I try, have I the mettle?
I open and spend time to taste,
But find the same, more or less.
Heavy sweetness on my tongue,
Missing texture, missing love.
Without words, I show my need,
Another taste, and then I’ll leave.
Mature child in adult story.
Flush, in slow-moving glory.
Bottom up,
head back, release.
Still unhappy,
without peace.