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 Jan 2017 bex
Ma Cherie
In a world of fear and crime today,
well it's hard to see the good,
amongst a guarded people now,
who once together stood,
we focus on just what we can't,
instead of what we should,
say who can help our people out,
if anybody could?

I tell you this in shame for all,
that people here are dying,
adults and infants die alike,
in endless tears I'm crying.
while another child dies today,
from lies that we are buying,

I see the world as it should be,
where we all share our food,
instead we have a county now,
where commonplace is rude,
where elected is a president,
who's mouth is spewing crude,

A divided people always fall,
it will lead us to a death,
I will say we rise as one,
until my dying breath,

My poet heart,
can't take much more,
of a people lost in blindness,
as levied waters at our toes,
to stop it only kindness,

Wake up,
won't you,
selfish those,
with a frozen blinkless stare,

I hope if you were starving,
well I hope someone would share,
in every other bite they eat,
& everything they bare,

If alone and out there hungry
it's hard for some to beg,
with so many apathetic,
to a Humpty Dumpty egg,

They talk an talk in platitudes,
of goodness they don't mean,
stupidity a common voice,
like I have never seen,
where friends are disappearing here,
and the grass no longer green,

Not because their stupid,
though in ignorance,
is bliss,
while painful is awareness,
it is endless,
that abyss,

In a world of broken people,
& few who see the truth,
where ones who share are not believed,
or lost to us in youth,

We search to be enlightened,
or say something,
like the same,
while putting idle hands beneath us,
as our heads hang down in shame,
or we aim a bony finger,
point to someone else in blame,

We are too slow to awaken,
so we must wake up right now,
we must end in our division,
come together here somehow,
& I will keep on asking,
till my death in this I vow,
when I see a God & if he comes,
to him I'll surely bow,

Though here's the saddest story,
of a sweet and blessed child,
from his mother's womb he came,
all humble, meek and mild,
then crucified by greedy hands,
so lost in envy wild,

A baby dies in freezing temps,
a homeless camp his stable,
his barefoot Mother thinks he breathes,
to care for him,
unable,

Some say that she is crazy,
and they think it's even fact,
otherwise well why in hell,
would any woman act,
as if she's nuts or evil,
or with the devil made a pact,

As if her baby was a gift,
immaculate conception,
she says he is child of a God,
a unique an rare exception,
all she hears is yeah sure right,
and utter clear rejection,

Most don't care about her story here,
shooaway,
my listening ears,
they bury heads in comfy blankets,
to drown out the constant fears,
desensitized,
from worldly plight,
in what can draw their tears?

We are told that capitalism,
is the way up to the top,
money rooted all our evil,
to share would help it stop,

An ad hominem argument,
to argue truth of God,
& I'm sure if he exists at all,
he'd find it more than odd,

If he sent a child here to see,
if kindness here exists,
if 9 days old is all he had,
to raise an angry fist,

I couldn't say I'd blame him,
seems that no one gave a ****,
for a little dying baby,
just a sacrificial lamb,

If people who believe that Jesus,
he died for us our sin,
if they and every person,
treated strangers as their kin,
there wouldn't be a battle,
that together we can't win,
realize not to judge,
on say someone else's sin,

No mouth would ever hunger,
our strength as one would grow,
to a loving giving God,
in our kindness we would show,
doing what is right ,
is something we should know,

The money hungry people,
a machine who's way is lost,
who throws away the extras,
regardless of the cost,

Animals are moving on,
while Winters without snow,
smoggy skies to block the sun,
a hazy smelly glow,
the government says look away,
then puts on another show,
they can take another bow,
while hitting a new low,

I ask above an answer,
why WE do this to OUR people,
while my country is my church,
& my sky above,
the stepple,

It's not about religion now,
or right,
or wrong,
or hate,
there's only one way in to there,
behind the pearly gates,
our journey architected,
by our hands,
our only fate,

I implore you,
share in all you have,
before it's all too late.


Cherie Nolan © 2016
Crying for a nation today ;/ this actually happened yesterday in America. I do not discount God or Religion in any way - I just know we need to act here now. With love and kindness, gratitide & awareness, understanding and effort we can change the world. Please share today - idk if makes sense- ❤ VERMONT
 Jan 2017 bex
Ovi-Odiete
There's a certain uniqueness in being strange

The thought of being different,
Unique with words,
Best amongst equals


The thought of being the light amidst the dark
Invading all chasms
Shining forth


The thought of being strange,
Like a talisman abstruse
Strong, yet soft in approach


Tall, yet bend when the wind blows,
Cold, yet melt with emotions,
Better by far


Best amongst equals

Ovi Odiete© Jan, 2017
I just needed to write something to come out of writing drought
Although the Constitution is being dutifully adhered to , I still feel like a crime has taken place* ....
Copyright January 17 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Jan 2017 bex
Butch Decatoria
It is just a hole...

Gaping puny or wide
uncertain of the shadows it hides
if nothing else
inside

it is just a hole.

I worry when so many
disguise / among us
impersonal un human un-persons
A traffic of panic
At mass / hysterics
Stranger danger
passerby
kicking and screaming
Dust and ****
Wordless eyes /void and thoughtless
deviant clerics subterfuge
mummifying manna and meaning
indifferent to our needing,
So so hateful in their
preening

(a predator will lick itself clean
until the hole needs to be filled...
hunger overpowering will.)


be
Careful you who mind
and listen
        careful not to fall in that
cavern
pothole
wishing well
cavity
(Gutter) ditch
sink hole
(an Unloved life)

Or singularity...

Careful of every kind of orafice
and every hand
that feigns well wishes
            they will push / shove you in...

Remember?
baby Jessica's televised face?
rescued from a hole in the ground?

It was just a hole...

and television is just like this,
an orifice
     a square/rectangular hole
that's loud yet saying nothing
But headline and panic
Like any tunnel, periscope
Hole
We fall for it
       The show's same ole
Widescreen pity surround sound desperation
Loudly
          pushes us in...

Just Another head like ...

and like your life and mine
        falling through time
the whole of you,
(Reason should be aware)

find some wisdom
open your eyes

Pay close attention,

you who are mindful
and listen.



*[Television is a shotgun barrel pointed at your face.~~the Birthday Book]
 Jan 2017 bex
Scarlet McCall
based on a true story*

The arsonist invited me
into the house of love.
The floorboards creaked,
and in the rafters above
I saw the black soot stains
and where a spider had wove
its web, now dangling
in a cool breeze.
The door was still open—perhaps I should leave.
Would you like a cup of tea?
He smiled at me.
Of course, I accepted his hospitality--
then saw the light in his eye,
like a burning match glowing.
I’m sorry,  I said,  I must be going.
The warmth of your affection
is  really quite touching. But now I feel the heat rising
and a slow burning.
Our friendly visit is  turning
into a fire crackling.
I think my presence here is
some kind of  kindling.
Thank you for the tea-- I’ll be
heading back to town.
If I stay here any longer, I’m afraid
we’ll burn the house down.
An old PF favorite.
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