Deport Me

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I showed up at the border with a story of woe…

“What brings your kind here?”  had been the Kind Words.

“A footprint in the puddled masses.  A wrongful tint to once rose-colored glasses.”

An Unarmed Angry Man spoke,

“We have no care for you!”

“But I am only looking for the town they say to be filled with despair.  I am not seeking anything that is fair.”imageedit_42_8383641112

Master Trump

Appalled!  Embarrassed.  Ashamed.  American.  There should be no doubt that Donald Trump, who I refuse to call, President; Has every intention of provoking a master race for himself.  And, himself only!

First, the poor, than the…uninsured or those lacking good insurance, the arts, veterans, meals on wheels, those searching the truth…etc., etc.

If the American people are not watching closely and take their eyes off the ball; The one empowered will be the more so… powerful.  The ‘masters’ of the human race.

“It is always a great honor to be so nicely complimented by a man so highly respected within his own country and beyond,” Trump said in a statement. “I have always felt that Russia and the United States should be able to work well with each other towards defeating terrorism and restoring world peace, not to mention trade and all of the other benefits derived from mutual respect.”

 

Good intentions will always be pleaded for every assumption of authority. … It is hardly too strong to say that the Constitution was made to guard the people against the dangers of good intention. … There are men in all ages who mean to govern well, but they mean to govern. They promise to be good masters, but they mean to be masters.

Applaud, the Mongrel

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“I am not a smart person, particularly, but one day, at long last, I stumbled from the dark woods of my own, and my family’s, and my country’s past, holding in my hands these truths: that love grows from the rich loam of forgiveness; that mongrels make good dogs; that the evidence of God exists in the roundness of things. This much, at least, I’ve figured out. I know this much is true.”    Wally Lamb

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Homegrown Sunday

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Unwittingly, what have I done…

With every quiet song not sung.
With every lucrative thought.
With every step I walk along and not, among.
Mindlessly, what have I done.
 ⇔
These days not for treading moderately.
A some Sunday, today.
Even now, as I walk,
Sunday’s wistful streets,
it is not myself that I greet.
 ⇔
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With an outlook of flora and fauna.
There is no frenzy.
No need for rivalry.
A recluse traveler.
Worshiping wanderer.
 ⇔
Not an apple, nor a buck.
I am an indigenous woman.
Cherokee on bent knee.
In the middle,
only breed.
Pawning my blood to meet my needs.
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In contrast, I walk between…
hallowed ground and…
vetted towns.
 ⇔
There is no sabbath in this,
the new frenzied silence.
Only falsehoods with an affiliation of dictating violence.
“Whether we walk among our people or alone among the hills, happiness in life's walking depends on how we feel about others in our hearts.” Anasazi- 7 Paths
“Whether we walk among our people or alone among the hills, happiness in life’s walking depends on how we feel about others in our hearts.”
Anasazi- 7 Paths