Guess why???? Click on link below to read article.
Guess why???? Click on link below to read article.
You might have seen this before, but just as entertaining and just as true the second time around. Have you registered to absentee vote?
Count the faces. Take a tally
of the peaceful protest rally.
Their routine is most well-planned,
masks in place, placards in hand.
Enter police. Down on belly!!!
Enter newscasters for telly.
Teargas in the people’s park.
Truckloads arrive after dark.
Rioting and smashing glass.
Other dark deeds come to pass.
Using protest for excuse
to bring discord and spread abuse.
Violence becomes routine.
Authority a cruel machine.
A whole nation comes to grieve
the loss of what most folks believe.
An orange bigot, Bible raised,
pontificates, posturing, crazed.
A landmark of our country’s pride,
struck by a flash as freedom died.
Has our nation come to this?
This puffed-up, prideful bag of piss?
Shame on a country who listens to
a fool who’s rotten through and through.
Let sane men take the lead and bring
some sanity to everything.
Equality and fairness reign
under a government more sane.
People stand up. Demand the best.
Do not give up. We cannot rest.
Seize back the country we have sold
to men who only care for gold.
Give succor to the halt and lame.
Do not play the money game
subsidizing rich man’s greed
instead of helping those in need.
Color is just an outer skin
and not a mark of shame or sin.
Use these sad times to make a start
to start to recognize the heart
that unites men from every nation,
every interest, every station.
Save our earth and save mankind.
Restore justice, and make her blind!!
Prompt words today are belly, landmark, grieve, rally and routine. I swore I’d write about something other than the rallies and violence that are tearing at the flesh of the whole world, but impossible to follow these prompt words anywhere except back to the current matters at hand.
He’s up there on the platform acting crass and disagreeable.
That he will bring the whole world down around him is foreseeable.
Every single day I hope and pray for his quiescence,
but, alas, refraining from brash speech is not his essence.
He opens mouth and words fall out—disjointed, vague and dense.
He’d make a great orator if only he made sense.
Good that his mother cannot see the travesty she bore—
narcissistic, senseless, and rotten to the core.
His attempts at humor only render him more silly.
His stench sickening and cloying—like an Easter lily.
He’s like a wild animal: vicious, cunning, feral.
What more can he do to put our whole wide world in peril?
No good can be said of him. He’s rotten through and through.
Daily, the world waits for him to drop the other shoe.
If you missed the previous newsletter, you can read it here.
Al Drago for The New York Times
By Frank BruniOpinion Columnist
I didn’t expect Donald Trump to turn eloquent overnight, nor is that necessary. Strong leadership doesn’t require it.
I didn’t expect him to stop complimenting himself. Bragging is as central to his existence as swimming is to a whale’s. It’s what propels him. It’s what sustains him. At this point it’s not merely reflexive. It’s autonomic.
I didn’t expect him to start telling the truth. I’m an optimist, not a fantasist.
But what I did expect, or at least hope for, was that this once-in-a-generation pandemic would tamp down his pettiness and meanness. How could it not? How cold he behold the scale of the suffering and the dimensions of the challenge before him and not realize that he finally had to be bigger and dig deeper?
There is no such bigness in Trump, no such digging. There is just the usual martyr complex, the familiar tirades and the same old passing of the buck. I’m forced to conclude that he’s not just a man ill equipped for this moment. He’s a man whose soul went missing.
I said as much in a column published a few days ago, and I winced when I wrote it and cringed when I sent it to my editor, because I don’t want to feel this cynical about an American president, certainly not now. I want to be pleasantly surprised. I want to be forced to reassess all prior misgivings and to apologize for selling him short, because that would mean that he was ably and nobly guiding us through this nightmare. Get something this important right and you’re forgiven all wrongs.
But as I explained in the column, which assesses Trump’s behavior over the past month, he isn’t finding the grace in crisis that other presidents did. He doesn’t even seem to be trying. I can’t fathom that. And I definitely can’t swallow it.
Laments like mine won’t change him. His rot is too fundamental for that. But they do, I think, serve a purpose: They nudge us past any lingering illusions that the direst of circumstances will transform the false prophet into a benevolent god.
No, this prophet just demands an even greater magnitude of worship. And he grows all the more furious when he doesn’t get it.
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Image by Annie Spratt on Unsplash, Used with permission.
Our POTUS in a Time of Plague
As scientists studied and scholars debated,
the course of our nation has been confiscated
by someone elected to counsel and guide us
who instead has chosen to confuse and chide us.
His grasp of the matter is less than meticulous,
therefore his statements are rather ridiculous.
His words contradictory, coming together
unfettered by wisdom, with nary a tether.
The palm-reader’s advice and crystal ball’s scry,
and what the astrologer sees in the sky
might deliver more guidance than this crazy guy
with one hand on his club, the other in the pie.
He surveys the landscape, concocting more lore
as he swings back his five iron, calling out “Fore!”
A reality star, but alas, little more—
at the next election, let’s show him the door!
Image by Hayden Dunsel on Unsplash, used with permission.
They’re trying to railroad us, set us adrift
so we’ll never close this incredible rift.
They’ll write our obituaries, every one
It started the day that reason was done .
We surrendered control to the men who let cash
prompt their decisions most foolish and rash.
The delicate balance of nature upended,
they pillaged the earth until it grew offended
and began to fight back through hurricanes, fire,
droughts, floods, marine deaths and then acts more dire.
When all these disasters failed to inspire us,
her weapon became the coronavirus.
Now they flounder on, our greedy politicians,
less leaders than they are our nation’s morticians.
They stew about markets, fuss over the Dow.
As ever, cash profits are their sacred cow.
While those who must vote to try to defeat them
are all prisoners of home with no way to unseat them.
Can you not see the end with wildlife in the streets,
stampeding down pavement, their hollow hoof beats
like drums that announce humanity’s end?
What messages might they possibly send?
The earth isn’t dependent on mankind to thrive.
When we are long gone, nature will survive.
Animals Invade Cities As People Quarantine Themselves At Home.
Read the Story Here: https://www.boredpanda.com/animals-in-streets-during-coronavirus-quarantine/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=organic&utm_campaign=organic
Image by fusion medical animation. Amazing that something so beautiful
could cause such devastation. As beautiful mankind has, as well.
The Big Lesson
Though isolation is the pits, illness is much worse,
so I must think of things to do while dealing with this curse.
I’m drinking lots of water, blowing hot air up my nose,
disinfecting doorknobs, washing all my clothes.
I have to pass on going out on dinner dates with friends
and make do with freezer food until this virus ends.
I clean out all my cupboards, dig into dusty files
and sort my poems from years ago neatly into piles.
I cancelled out on reading poems at our bi-monthly gathering.
Instead, I overhaul old poems and set about the lathering
of all suspected surfaces: computer, hands and phone.
(The cats both head out for the door, thinking “Leave us alone!”)
I spend all the time with me I used to spend with friends.
When I run out of toilet paper, stock up on Depends.
I eat lots of veggies, wear gloves to read my mail.
Read Facebook obsessively for each new detail
of what they tell us that we must and we must not do
to increase the odds that we will not catch this flu.
This virus has us isolated—true without a doubt,
so I guess I’ll look within since I can’t look without.
I’ll think about past lovers, then drag old albums out
to try to find more memories for me to think about.
While contemplating doomsday and plotting out our ends,
we might as well survey our lives and think about old friends.
Forget that crazy orange fool who tweets and issues orders
concerning odds and planes and ships and hands and gloves and borders.
Go back to where we should have been, listening to sager folks
with science degrees and doctorates who are not human jokes.
And when the world’s restored to order, when walking past Trump Tower,
try to remember and take heed that nature has the power!
Give her due respect. Mind the oceans and the bees.
Stop fracking and pollution. Earth’s not there for you to seize.
Protect other species, for everything’s connected.
We are not meant to seize and own each thing we have selected.
If nature turns against us, it’s written in the plan.
When creating the natural world, the last thing made was man.
So less depends upon him in the natural way of things.
The world can do without the reordering he brings.
Already wild animals are taking over towns
as a single virus topples presidents and crowns.
We cannot use the atom bomb or missile, drone or gun.
If we wage war with Mother Nature, she’ll be the one who’s won!!!
All photos were posted on Unsplash and are used with permission.
If those of foreign ethnicity around our sacred nation
are being questioned over their passport identification,
are others far more grandiose being questioned, too?
Are those of nordic extraction locked up in a human zoo?
If chain migration must end now, will the extraction rope
extend around the family of our grand misanthrope?
Or is there exemption for folks of wide renown?
Are these rules only extended over people who are brown?
Image by Samanta Sabina on Unsplash, used with permission
Our nation’s growing jittery. It seems our ruler’s broken.
In the land of liberty, freedom is just a token.
Surrounded by his family, his fumbling words are brisk.
He issues crazy edicts, putting the world at risk.
As he pens crude letters to men of more distinction,
we cower in our houses. fearing mass extinction.
He poo-poos all our scientists. The climate’s doing fine.
Who cares if the whole planet is headed for decline?
Glaciers swiftly melting. Forest fires raging.
He overlooks the hurricanes, intent upon his caging.
Children are the biggest risk, so he sends them packing.
Makes military decisions with very little backing.
On his situation comedy played on the largest screen,
he spins out the same old story: our country has grown mean.