A book that looks at the deep levels of poverty most of us don’t see is a must read.
Source: Shaming the poor ignores the reality of poverty – The Boston Globe
A book that looks at the deep levels of poverty most of us don’t see is a must read.
Source: Shaming the poor ignores the reality of poverty – The Boston Globe
I was a beggar on Wealthy Street
where I was accused of being vibrant
arrested in my quest for murdered time
charged with being an artist
convicted of faith in more than I do
as an accessory after the top hat
In my sidewalk cell,
I became an advocate as a willing-faced pauper
begging for change on Wealthy Street
This past July, a church committee requested a new message on the electronic sign, which faces the Oak Ridge Turnpike. The message they requested was “Black Lives Matter.” The board of the Oak Ridge Unitarian Universalist Church, or ORUUC, voted to approve it, and the message was added to the sign’s series of scrolling messages.
Source: Opinion: Rev. Morrill addresses ‘Black Lives Matter’
You are merely a distraction
meant as a detraction
from the deep dissatisfaction
of a dying way of life.
The marionette strings you’re dancing
are pulled by those amassing
obscene amounts of financing
with your divisive strife
You are the sleight of hand
given up as sacrificial lamb
with back-room deals grandstand
back-stabbed by Judas’ knife
I am not to judge your place
or spit into your unwitting face
as you spout you’re in god’s holy grace
while playing at Lot’s wife
I hope that what you’re saved from
in total and in sum
bring you to a better place to rest your bum
with a small bit of advice
Matthew 22:36-40,
and although it may feel a tad bit warty,
is what Jesus said while commandment sortie,
Commanded not once, but twice.
The InSight mission to Mars is coming up on March 04, 2016 as a way to monitor and learn more about the surface of the planet. My husband Ben and I, he moreso than I, share a love for the space program and the many discoveries that are found. If you’d like to participate in a “trip to Mars”, send me all your money follow the link below to join others that believe in the power of exploration as well.
The deadline for signing up to have your name sent to mars is September 8th, 2015, so hop to it gumball! Here is the link to do that, RIGHT HERE! and below is a link to the picture of my “boarding pass.”
I don’t give a loaded poop chute about this piece of digestion. I want to know about the lives he took. I want to know their names so I never forget that his guns took their lives. I want to remember the victims because only then will real changes happen.
It’s easy to forget one person, but when you have to remember Sandy Hook, Chattanooga, Phoenix, Knoxville, ANYWHERE there are victims of murder because of guns; List the victims.
Trace their lives that led up to their fatal decision to go to school, church, the movies, or work. Let’s examine how they let it happen by putting themselves in harm’s way by living their lives.
Let’s examine what they were wearing. If they would have been wearing more orange would they not have been accidentally assumed to be a game animal? What is it going to take? This is freaking enough. It’s just no. Stop this already.
I’ve already written against this ridiculous glorification of the murderers HERE
I am the dirty little secret; the gate-keeper of his justice
Cloaked in the farthest back corner of his closet of emotional ruckus
Sometimes doctors visited. Some would prod around the rubbish
But they could never find me because they didn’t have the compass
They’d take turns trying to discover where my true self thrived
by poking me with invisible sticks, wondering if I were still alive.
Oh! I am still alive. I am very, very much alive.
When I became the forgery demonstrating his famine-lies
I became the masquerade a dancing puppet super-sized
Nobody could hear my darkness under shrouds of harm
Nobody could tell me anything without red flag waving alarm
I got along with nobody, because we were the same
Nobody was the better of us, better at shirking shame.
I made nobody up so I wouldn’t feel so alone
because Everybody kept feasting on my well-gnawed bones.
I escaped from my slumber when the trash was taken out
I opened my three eyes, discovered peace of mind devout
I shed the garbage like a snake sheds its skin
I discovered my diamond, my value, his sin
I grew formidable cloaked in starlight; causing a dither
while he suffocated himself, decayed and withered.
I am the dirty little secret, but my truth is being bold
I’ll be the beacon for those lost in darkest treachery told:
You have no worth. You have no a beloved’s face.
I offer a flashlight towards the egress of freedom’s fair grace.
I posted a powerful picture that demonstrates what it feels like to the photographer to have #BlackLivesMatter criticized and taken over by #alllivesmatter. This is what happened:
I think this is a very powerful image. Thank you for sharing.
Educate yourself about the actual statistics
If this seems fair to you, we can’t be friends
The Federal Bureau of Prisons claims more white inmates than black:
But, the States, the Census Bureau and the Department of Justice all contradict those statistics with roughly the same rate of growth per their reports as opposed to that of the FBP.
As the two links above, this one is from The Department of Justice and is a PDF: This doesn’t match the Prison Report either
Believe what you want to, but unless you can bring me proof via public records, studies, or other recognized sources based on scientific fact and not ignorant opinions, I will love you from a distance with respect for you and will continue to state factually in support of #Blacklivesmatter
P.S. Random Person I is employed as a police officer.
An Independent Nondiscriminatory Platform With No Religious, Political, Financial, or Social Affiliations - FOUNDED 2014
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
Make Funerals Free Again
True wealth is the wealth of the soul
Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.
Psychology, Mind over matter
Life as an American poet of excellence
Epic fantasy & military sci-fi author.
Love Letters to the Tar Pit
Making Space for Dreams
binge thinking and other things in life