They call it the beautiful bill 

They call it the beautiful bill 

I call it bullshit

Approved on Capitol Hill

By cowards, liars a stroke of a pen

Politicians committing  grievous sins

planned and orchestrated this doom

The innocent to suffer quite soon

Republicans souls are corrupt 

Hidden agendas plan to disrupt

Creating a maze of discord 

Striving to become Lords

Over the people – I think not

Cowards in suits while children cry

Justice , truth, they distribute only lies

We grown weary but not to surrender – we detest

We don’t second guess your motives – we protest

The poor not deserving

 you laugh  over drinks

Thinking of more ways to stump out life

You created this broken bridge of strife

The foul smell of trickery permeates the air

And justice is to being torn apart – not fair

Yet it’s not over

We the people stand for democracy 

now that has been turned into hypocrisy 

Each new bill breeds only hate

NEWS FLASH

We reject it – we refuse to take

Your bullshit that rocks are minds

It’s not time – NOT TIME

Endless city blocks of tears

And ICE draws from fear

Death travels the corridors of schools at noon

Creeping though walls in broken rooms

Set off by fools with no remorse 

Pushing pain like drugs – it’s part of the course

We feel the pain like a knife in our chest

Democracy is burning- can’t lay it to rest

Every law is a lie they hurry to write

Families destroyed – stolen in the night

They push “we the people” out of the way

These new laws are meant to decay hope

In homes screams echo in the night

Dreams of freedom erased in the policy fight

Scheming agenda planning attacks

Against Americans these are the facts

We will thrive like beautiful flowers

We will rise upward dare not cower

No justice, no peace, we don’t pretend

This is our beginning and it’s not the end.

Photo by Photo By: Kaboompics.com on Pexels.com









	

From Bully to President

I used to ditch school often in the seventh grade. I was truant from many of my classes–not because I didn’t want to learn, but because I was afraid. I would show up to school and then hide: in the bathroom stall or some hidden corner of the schoolyard, hoping not to be noticed. When the truant officer finally contacted my mother, there was hell to pay. But the real punishment wasn’t at home–it was at school, where Sharon, the school bully, made my life a daily nightmare.

Fear stayed close, like a shadow I couldn’t shake. I’d lock myself in a bathroom stall, praying I wouldn’t run into her. I’d stay there fifteen, twenty minutes after the bell rang, waiting for the coast to clear. Then I’d slip out quietly and head for the school gates. Sometimes I got lucky–maybe she was gone, or busy tormenting someone else–but eventually, our paths would cross.

I never understood what I had done to deserve her cruelty. She took my lunch money, emptied my book bag, yanked my long braids, and sometimes even spit on me. She called me names so ugly I still remember how they stung. She even insulted my mother–a woman she had never met. Sharon always had a group of kids with her. I don’t believe they truly liked her; they followed her out of fear. Some would laugh nervously at her jokes, hoping she wouldn’t turn on them next. Her power came from our fear. We gave it to her without meaning to.

Later in life, I realized Sharon was a coward. Her strength didn’t come from within–it came from her enablers. I ran into her in high school after she had dropped out. She didn’t say a word. She wouldn’t even look me in the eye. By then, I had found my voice–and I was ready.

I hadn’t thought about Sharon in years–until I saw Donald Trump rise to power. Watching him insult,

humiliate, and mock anyone who disagreed with him brought all those buried memories flooding back. The helplessness. The shame. The way his followers laughed and clapped as he belittled others. It was Sharon all over again, only now the stage was national, and the stakes far higher.

Trump insulted women, targeted immigrants, mocked the disabled, and used Twitter as a weapon. His cruelty wasn’t confined to back hallways or cafeteria tables–his bullying was broadcast across the world. And just like Sharon, he fed off fear. He ruled with intimidation, not integrity. With ego, not empathy.

Many of the people who voted for him now feel regret but stay silent. They fear the backlash. They fear being targeted next. Trump has taught them that dissent will be punished. He doesn’t lead with unity or vision. He leads with vengeance. And still, he gains strength from those who follow him anyway.

Now he threatens our very democracy. What frightens me most is that I believe he truly thinks he’s the only one who can fix America. He flirts openly with authoritarianism–undermining institutions, dismissing the Constitution, and acting as though laws don’t apply to him. He spreads lies with conviction, as if truth itself is an inconvenience.

Isn’t this the behavior of someone who wishes to be a dictator?

We must not remain silent. Because when bullies are left unchecked, they don’t disappear–they grow louder, more dangerous, and more powerful. Whether in a schoolyard or a seat of government, bullying must be called what it is: a weapon of fear. And we, the people, must remember–we hold the power to say no.

Trump’s World

Listen up – don’t dare tell me to shut up or claim my words lack insight. Truth when spoken is worth more than gold. It’s light that shines showing us what’s wrong or right in this world.

There’s a devil in the midst, whispering lies, ignoring the cries of a nation in fear.  An evil host, desecrating our space. Leaving behind bitterness, sorrow, tears. Some of you gave him a toast, yes raised a glass to him, drank to his fraud and played his game of insanity.

SHAME ON YOU!  For playing along, for feeding his fire, then running from the flames. Some of you no more than cattle blind to the battle allowed him to tame you.

The constitution gives us hope. A joke to him wages a sin against humanity. A document to rewrite however he sees fit. You won’t win. The sacred words that built this country now under siege in real time, not myth but fact.

He slides into madness – vision askew. Breaking bonds with nations abroad. What does he see? Power and pride. What do you see? A tyrant. A fraud. The sacred flame that united us as one is burning fast. The question is how long must his madness last?

His eyes – shut to our nation’s needs. Take heed. Listen to his plan as he spins out of control holding this country hostage to his demands. Don’t silence truth. Don’t quiet dissent. Don’t let him cage the voice of hope. Life isn’t a joke to sweep under a rug by this man who is criminal and portrays a thug.

He wears a mask riddled with holes. Empty of a soul. His strength is from pain. Feeds on discord growing  in the dark. Sinful laughter that creeps from him as we shoulder the strain.

Watch closely…..the road he paves. We carry the weight. He plays the game.  Some stand idle, blind to his moves. Human pieces , pawns of shame. He calls this great but greatness it’s not.  Not when built on hatred and rooted in fear.

We contemplate peace yet we dread the next day. Shaky. Unclear our fears. 

Citizen, immigrant, documented or not. We all feel it. The pull. The twist. The sting. The hist of a snake.  What’s the angle, the plan as he strangles the American dream.

Don’t dare me to shut up- this truth is mine and must be told.

Roe Vs  Wade – a right reversed. A woman’s voice now silent.  Can love be love if judged by law? Who decides what’s right or wrong – whose passion is allowed to speak?

Mass deportation echoes loud. History repeats. In painful hues. From Project Wetback to braceros. Immigrants served and were used.  Then tossed away. Tools gone dull. Shipped though citizens true. Not forward – no. We move in reverse. And the pain it’s carried by me as by you too.

Families torn, mothers, fathers, children wave though bus window glass. Citizens by birth…….punished by blood. Compassion now a thing of the past.

We are many- many faces , many voices. Many names, documented, undocumented. Human beings not pawns in a game.

Doctors, laborers, teachers, and more. Artist, actors and yes even thieves. We are gay, straight, trans. Proud mothers, fathers. Each heart believes. Black, Brown, White, Yellow, red – every hue the eye can see. We climb. We strive. We sacrifice. Chasing the American Dream.

We came some by force and some by choice but we all want a piece of Liberty and not misery.

And still we hope and still we rise for we are one struggling to survive this calamity.

We are humanity with a voice of free will to make our own choice.

A life running from fibromyalgia

These days I’m unable to lace up my tennis shoes and rush out the door. I find it challenging to even consider leaving the safety of my bedroom. My doctor advised me to walk as much as possible to strengthen my bones because of my osteoporosis, although I don’t think he realizes how my fibromyalgia prevents me from doing a lot of things.

There was a time I looked forward to my walks. I never cared for a walking track for I felt it restricted me from viewing the world. I enjoyed walking on the street where I had a view of people and I made mental notes of stories that popped into my head. I felt so alive blending with my surroundings. Now I miss all the many sounds of life. Busy city streets, the sounds of pedestrians and cars traveling to unknown destinations.

Today I have cried from the pain that blankets my world. No one can seem to understand my dilemma?  They think it is more mental, than physical – it’s very real. I am becoming so  depressed and  my only wish is to close my eyes, wake up to a new day painless. So sad because  my body is not my body – this  is not me.

This week the pain has traveled down my legs and feet, making it impossible to even contemplate leaving the house and walking a few blocks. I have been in bed nearly the entire day as was the same as yesterday. A holiday has come and I hold no excitement because I wonder will tomorrow be the same as yesterday.

I so desperately wish for this episode to pass but sometimes I feel like this for a couple of days and other times for a couple of weeks, never knowing for certain how long this pain will glue itself to my body. I question what is worst the pain or the depression since both are entwined as one.

I have prescribed medicine for pain but I’m holding out waiting for it to pass . Two days without taking Norco. I want my body back! I want to be pain free. I want to discover a way to function and enjoy my life without enduring my pain.

.

To be celibate or not

Many people view sex as a light switch that they turn on and off whenever they choose, they never consider the cost involved until they are presented with a crisis that unfolds in their life and they aren’t prepared for the consequences. Relationships end sometimes leaving you with anger, misery or pain – or sometimes all three.

Some believe that abstinence from sex is only for people who are religious or spiritual but I don’t believe it’s limited to your religious conviction. I see it as a person’s choice, however I believe many are influenced by society norms and face it Americans norms have changed drastically.

You could plow through many partners before finding that gem in the grass. Well you have options – take a test drive on each new model or just use that light switch when you have a fancy to let your physical emotions lock down your self control? You are always in the driver’s seat – it’s your vehicle.

Picture or words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words – I say not so. A picture doesn’t say much about the person – you must listen to what they say – what they actually are saying to you. Those words are more valuable than a picture since they tell the story from beginning to end. A person’s words are a gateway to who they really are.


Daily writing prompt
What’s your favorite thing about yourself?


Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Death and Healing

I lost my husband six years; one month and sixteen days ago and finally I think it’s time to rebuild my life. I’m still not sure what that means but I know it’s not sitting in my room, crying, eating, cleaning the house until I am exhausted and chain smoking cigarettes. I finally came to the realization that you would not be happy with the person I had succumbed to. I actually contemplated that I would grieve forever that this should be my destiny.. I’m still not sure what that means but I do know now life is much more than grief.

I was frightened because I couldn’t picture you anymore. The image that visited me was a nineteen year old young man, vibrant, handsome and fearless. I had to pick up a photograph to remember you as you had become, the small details of your face. The etches and grooves and sagging skin that came with age but also too many illnesses back to back that stole into your life like a thief without warning.

I couldn’t remember your wonderful scent. I find myself constantly opening your cologne especially Jimmy Choo your favorite , and the aroma is a reminder of a time when you were near. I kept most of your clothing, couldn’t part with those items so dear to my heart. Your favorite shirts and pants they still hang in your closet. Sometimes late at night, really in the wee hours of morning. I get up and put on one of your sweaters. I needed all these things to cushion my loss.

People would tell me with time it would be okay, after all time healed everything but that was not so. Time doesn’t change how you feel when you love someone as I have loved you. You just don’t cry as often but the pain of loving and losing follows you, it’s like a fine thread that gets caught on your pants leg. and pulls you back . You go places that you two used to go together. You listen to laughter, watch couples holding hands or just walking together and you feel a stab in your heart. And you ask if only I had just a little more time? You know all the things you would do if you had more time. You think about the silly arguments, but also the times you both cried together, yes I miss it all.

I miss it so much. I miss hearing you debate with someone and how you refused to be on the losing end. I miss eating from your plate although I know you didn’t like it , but I did it anyway. Our late night walks at the deserted beach , how we took off our shoes and let the water nip at our feet. I even enjoyed watching you sleep knowing then peace came to you then in your dreams. I miss our shopping trips to the maul. I miss you washing my back because I always had a problem stretching my arm. I miss you making me fried eggs well done and hash browns when I worked late. I never liked eggs but when you made them – well its was like having a nice dinner. Your youngest daughter tried to fix me a fried egg and I think it may have come in at a seven but never a ten. I miss laying on your chest while you read. I miss you calling me Terri because no one has ever called me Terri but you. I miss dancing for you in my bare feet.in the rain, you said it was foolish but how you bubbled over with laughter. And the gladiolas three dozen every two weeks. I remember how I complained about why so many considering I had to clip them? No one gives me gladiolas now.

And it saddens my heart that has so many cracks that I don’t think they can be mended. You always thought of me. I knew you were sick and knew how you said you were so very tired not being able to do the things you used to. What did I say to you – find something else to do. I think you knew that time was of essence. And you crammed as much as you could into our lives; taking me places, buying me gifts and telling me how beautiful I still was. All those things you said and did for me.

And the day before your funeral it was Valentines day. A delivery of flowers, three dozen yellow roses. I thought to myself roses are not appropriate however when I read the card it was from you. You said I know you love gladiolas but I think these will do. Thank you for all you have done for me. I am your greatest fan. I broke down in tears and I thought, no I was your greatest fan. Even when you were nearing your star in the sky, you thought of me.

So now I will rebuild my life without you.. I will try to make sense of what the impending future holds for me. I will do some of the things I always thought of doing but never did. I will listen to that small voice in my head – that is actually telling me to write- you can make your dream become a reality – that is your voice.

I will begin the tedious process of finding an audience for my stories; plays, screenplays – everything that was completed years ago but was never really circulated – my fear of rejection hindered my growth. Now I will do these things without fear of failure but instead only the possibility of becoming who I was always meant to be.

Six years, one month and sixteen days. No more grieving because I choose to live for both of us. I know you will be there cheering me on because you were and always will be my biggest fan.

Marriage

Watch how the flowers bloom. From a tiny seed they sprout and thrive from the nutrients in the soil, sun and water. As time passes they grow into beautiful, colorful flowers that dance in the sunlight.

Flowers that are not attended to die and wither away, with their beauty disappearing into the soil as it is with a marriage that isn’t nurtured. A marriage requires love, patience, understanding, friendship and forgiveness in order to continually bloom.

Love is forever