I am a musical note in a guitar
Waiting for the touch of dexterous hands

I am a chrysalis under a paling leaf
Waiting to be turned into a butterfly

I am raw ore in the far depths of the mine
Waiting to be extracted and purified

I am a smoldering piece of coal in the hearth
Waiting to be blown into a flame

I am a rough stone under the Earth’s crust
Waiting to be hewn into a diamond

I am an antique piece long buried in the soil
Waiting excavation to become a treasured exhibit

I am a piece of canvas fixed on the easel
Waiting for the touch of a master artist

How I long to transcend my rawness
Into something better and refined

But can I do anything wholly myself
Never! Everything depends on others will too

I discern I am only a flickering shadow
That has existence only if there is light!

They say let’s make it great again.
They say they are American
but I don’t think it’s true
cause I’ve seen our stories
and our histories
and they don’t match like
they’re supposed to.

Seen better men then me
working shifts so long
that their eyes look like
they’ve been cut red with lightning.
At the end of the work day
they strain to stay awake.
Back stiff and popping
but there is no stopping.
They make it home
to see their kids
and do a little playing.
They do a little praying,
hoping that their work today
makes their children’s future better.

I’ve seen immigrants struggling,
learning a language
that is not their own
so, they can work
to buy their own home
and start a little business.
It’s not a dream I would pursue
but I respect the struggle.
Seen that Chinese family
move out and up
working hard and raising children
and in that circle, there is love
cause it’s family that matters.

I’ve seen liars spouting off about
family values
but they do not know
what real families value.
I’ve seen single moms
struggling to escape
the shame of
that so-called welfare state.
I’ve seen a mother of three
working, going to school,
and still making it home in time
to spend time with her kids,
to play and laugh,
to accept and celebrate their strangeness.
I’ve seen a mother staying up late
to hold her troubled daughter
to ease the pain that caused her
beautiful child to do
harm to herself.
I would not trade this truth
for any soft cloth, patriotic symbol.

I’ve seen strangers helping strangers
seen groups of people
putting sand in bags
and bags on top of bags
not to stop the floods from coming
to where they are from
but to give others a chance to live.
I’ve seen
pictures of people who rush into danger
not with guns a blazing
but with bottles of water and blankets,
with food, and shovels,
with hands to move the rubble
digging up the bodies of some
while unburying lost
sisters, fathers, mothers, and brothers.

I do not believe in your America
but if you claim that you do
then you would not do
what you regularly do,
lying about trying to make it great
while your just creating hate.
so, **** making America great again.

I have seen the America you are trying to make
and it is grating.
It is made for flag waving,
bible belt thumping,
poverty, child-abuse, neglect
electric shock conversion therapy
eugenics, lynching, segregation
slavery on plantations,
sexism, racism,
xenophobia, transphobia,
flat Earth creation,
climate change denial,
evolutionary denialist,
police brutality, corruption,
pollution, prisons for profits,
a war on drugs, and
a war on terrorism,
while war profiteering.

Intentional confusion,
dire delusions,
your America is
this paper white illusion.

But we are part of the race
that invented the wheel,
the steam engine,
the radio, the telephone
the tv, the computer,
the cellphone,
the printing press,
the spaceship,
that went to the moon,
put machines on Mars,
that learned to express,
great things in writing,
and painting,

You say let’s make America great again.
I say let’s start the enlightenment again,
start over as a world of friends and kin
hand and hand with grand ideas.
Till we can all feel connected,
and do the unexpected.
Let’s make humanity great again,

Oh fairest maiden dressed in blue,
with blessed eyes i gaze at you.
Your lips speak volumes, no need to talk.
You are my shadow this lonely walk.

fiery crimson slash
on mountain canvas
false beauty above
truth hidden below
how low will they go
to tap the root
sip stolen nectar
to feed their bracted petal lies
protect the precious flower
from pestilence and weather
hummingbirds and hovering bees
take pollen honey-sweet
from the fertile center
spread the stealthy seed

We lived in a house a cleric built
In fifteen sixty-three,
Deep in a copse of Roman Elms
A grand and mighty tree,
The place was Tudor, half timbered,
And it creaked in every storm,
The wind was rattling through the eaves
Before we both were born.

We saw it up in the window of
The Realtor, going cheap,
It needed some TLC because
Its look would make you weep,
It badly needed a paint job and
Some timbers plugged with tar,
The years of rot had disfigured it,
‘Are you interested?’ ‘We are!’

Dead leaves had cluttered the downstairs rooms
And damp had swelled the floor,
The leadlight windows were dark with gloom
There were rats down in the store,
We worked and slaved on it, Jill and I,
Till it soon became a home,
Nestling in a hollow that
The locals called a combe.

I’d lie awake in the poster bed
That had been since Cromwell’s day,
The beams and curtains were overhead
And the wind would make them sway,
While Jill slept soundly, I still could hear
The wind sough through the trees,
Come rattling up to the shutters and
Slip gently past the eaves.

But then some nights, I’d hear some muttering
Down there by the elms,
Like ghosts of soldiers, loud and stuttering
Underneath their helms,
And then I’d hear the sound of marching
To a Roman beat,
There wasn’t even a pavement but
It sounded like a street.

A street that clattered with cobblestones
To the sound of chariot wheels,
I’d stare on out from the window-sill
To see what night reveals,
But nothing moved in the shady wood
To make those strangest sounds,
I searched and searched in the daylight, through
Those ancient wooded grounds.

Then one day digging a garden patch
I came across a stone,
That held a funny inscription on
The face, that smacked of Rome,
I think it mentioned a Lucius
From Legion Twenty-Nine,
I pried it out of the ground and then
I knew what I would find.

He lay there still in his breastplate
With his helmet and his sword,
His sandals still on his feet and tied
On tight, with a rotted cord,
The skull stared up at me in dismay
As if to say, ‘Who’s there?
You’ve broken into my endless sleep,
Invaded my despair.’

I swiftly covered him over so
That Jill would never see,
A sight to give her the nightmares that
I knew would come to me,
But then I settled his stone upright
That he might rest in bliss,
And that was the end of the mutterings,
From that day until this.

David Lewis Paget

Harriet  turned back off the intercom and stood in the office for a few seconds.  What have we done?  I can't believe I let my ten year old son be the vessel to that thing.  I can't believe we were stupid enough to summon that thing thought Harriet.  Harriet walked out of the office and back to the worship area where Evil was waiting.  
"Why do you have a look of concern on your face Harriet?   What did you think I would be like?"  asked Evil.  "I didn't know what to expect" said Harriet.   As Harriet and Evil stood eyeing each other the members of Sinister walked in the worship area.
"I'm glad you all could make it.  Now sit down" said Evil.  A stocky middle aged man walked up to Evil looked down at him and said "I don't take orders from children."  with a smile on his face Evil broke the man's leg in half by giving him a front kick to his knee cap.  The stocky man hit the floor and screamed in agony.  The members of Sinister watched in horror as Evil wrapped his arms around the man's head and broke his neck.  He then proceeded to rip the man's head off and throw it out the door of the worship area.
"Now if everyone would please listen to me very carefully.  The person you see is not Levi.  I am Evil.  Your priest summoned me and I answered his call.  The vessel you see is Levi but I am Evil.  All of you may address me as Levi" said Evil.  The members of Sinister looked at each other but didn't say a word.  "Sit down.  You all thought the Book of Evil was something to play with and that I wasn't real.  You put the cult Sinister together to pass time and have fun.  I am very real" said Evil as the members of Sinister sat down.  "Your High Priest use to run the show but from now on I'll be running the show.  You may now return to your rooms until I call for you again" said Evil.
All of the members of Sinister stood to their feet and returned to their rooms.  When all of the members of Sinister were gone Evil looked at Harriet and said "I need for you to update me on world events.  I need to know what's going on around the world."   "You need to watch the Visual View Screen.  The Visual View Screen is a device that show us World News, entertainment shows, movies, and music.  What you need to watch is world news.  Follow behind me" said Harriet.
Harriet led Evil out of the worship area and to a room where there was a Visual View Screen.  She turned on the Visual View Screen, turned the channel to the world news, and the two sat down and watched the world news.
"That's it right there.  It's amazing how Scientist and Bio Engeiners come up with things" said Evil.  "What's it?" asked Harriet.  "Don't you just love war?  Your species create genius ways to **** each other.  They created a virus and a cure to for the virus.  The building where the virus is kept is under quarantine.  We are going to release the virus and live in the underground city designed to keep the Scientist and Bio Engeiners safe if the virus ever got loose.  Once the virus **** everyone on planet the members of Sinister will reemerge from the underground city and I will create a new world" said Evil.

Written by Keith Edward Baucum