Blogging For Kicks

Photo courtesy: BartCop

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, lived a tiny little King with a tiny little brain, who wanted to show the world he was neither. He knew the one way to do that was to become a great hero, and to do that he’d need a great war to lead, so all the people could see how tough and determined he was. He sent his minions on a quest to find a war he could fight in a country far away, and one day, while he was waiting for them to get back to him, the answer came from a totally different source. Never mind, he said, it doesn’t matter where it came from, we can make it our own war, take it to the country we want to fight in, with a few simple twists and turns. We’ll have most everyone on our side in a couple of shakes, and the rest…well, we’ll tell everyone they are just not real citizens of our land so no one will listen. And it came to pass.

Three years later, after many deaths on both sides, the war still raged on. The King came out very early on and proclaimed it over, stating he had won a great victory over Evil, and the people of the land cheered him on as a great hero. He had finally made his dream come true! Except for some of the non-citizens who still realized what he had done to get the war started, and how far from over it really was. But he just kept telling his faithful not to listen to the nay-sayers, those hateful non-citizens who only wanted to cause trouble. And they were ignored.

But, the spell the King had cast on his subjects began to wear off, little by little, and they looked around and saw the tarnish on the golden streets, the chips in the pearl walls, and the filth lying about in all the corners of the land. They began to realize nothing was really as it seemed, and the more they thought, the more they realized the war wasn’t over, the land wasn’t prospering, and the King was really the small little man with the small little brain he’d always been. But by now it was too late, because too many people had died, and the real enemy had now gotten a foothold in the country they were at war with, and there was no way they could back out now without leaving the country in worse shape than it had been when they started. And although their trust and admiration for the King had withered away by now, they realized there was nothing they could ever do to get things back the way they were before it started, and they were sad.

Not everyone had learned these lessons, however, and they kept chanting the King’s mantra - “We will win the war, we will be conquering heroes, the people of that land will worship us as their saviors, and our land will be brighter and richer than ever before!” They truly beleived this, because they simply could not open their eyes and see the truth because they risked realizing they had been fooled badly by a consummate con man, and they simply couldn’t live with that knowledge. So they followed the King, chanting his mantra, until the road fell out from under their feet and they plunged to the depths of hell itself. The King? Lucky dog, he managed to step on the heads of his lackeys like rocks in a river until he made it safely to solid ground, then marched on alone, still hearing the chants of his long-gone minions ringing in his empty little head.

I mean, honestly, can anyone tell me? I just got the news that my oldest daughter might have a major problem, and if that’s so, the survival rate for her malady isn’t very good. I don’t know if this is something I should be writing about in here, but I have to put it down somewhere and this is my spot for what I’m thinking and feeling at any given time. So, here I am.

Now, she isn’t a child anymore. As a matter of fact she is the mother of my two oldest grandchildren, and they are 16 and 18 now. But she’s still my child, and I still love her with all my heart. I simply don’t know how to get my mind around the fact she could die before long, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

My heart is ripping into pieces here, my mind just keeps screaming “NO!” at the top of it’s voice, and my eyes won’t stop leaking anytime the thought comes to mind. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say, I just simply can’t think about anything else. I’m trying to hold on to the hope that it more than likely will be something simple they can take care of with surgery, just get it out of there and be done with it. Honestly, I am. But there is a constant, nagging fear in my brain that just keeps jumping out of the shadows and creases, knocking every other thought out of it’s way.

What do I do if it’s not a simple fix? What can I do if it becomes apparent she’s leaving ahead of me and I can’t stop her? And just how can I live my life with her not in it? I simply don’t remember what life was like without my kids. Sure, I have memories and all, but it’s like every memory I have doesn’t make sense without them in it. It’s like someone else’s life, that’s it. I had no other life before my kids came, and I can’t see how I’d have one after they go, if I am still here. It’s simply unimaginable for me.

I was so lucky. I was pregnant six times, and I gave birth to healthy babies every time. I remember hearing about women losing baby, and my grandmother lost 7 all together (ok, two sets of twins among them), and I’ve always thought I simply couldn’t go on if I lost one. And when my Dad died while Grandma was still alive, I didn’t even want to think about how badly that must have hurt. I guess now is my turn to come face to face with the possibility for myself, and I just don’t think I can take it.

I know I’m doing a lot of whining here, something I really hate to do, but there seems to be nothing else I can do. Oh, I’m praying like crazy, and I’m telling myself to stop worrying so much, it could turn out to be the simple thing after all, but……it does no good. My one saving grace, if it’s to be good news, is that the technician who ran the tests on her told her she should be hearing from her doctor within 24 hours, so at least we won’t have to wait forever to know what’s up. But there again, is that a good thing or a bad one? Would it be better to go on hoping for the best for a longer time? I just don’t know.

All I do know is, this is something no parent ever wants to consider, and certainly never wants to have thrust on them out of the blue. I guess it’s a reality check, to see just how grown up and responsible I really am, but if that’s the case, I can tell you right now I’ve failed miserably. I simply can’t deal with this rationally, and I’ll be the first to say it. All I can do at this point is ask those of you who read this to pray with me for my daughter, and hope with me that we get the lesser of the two evils this time. Thanks for listening.

THIS WAS SENT TO ME VIA E-MAIL. I HOPE IT MAKES YOU ALL STOP AND THINK, AND REMEMBER: THERE, BUT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD……..

Please read until the end.

This is a good story and is true, please read it all the way through until the end! (After the story, there are some very interesting facts!):

I am a mother of three (ages 14, 12, 3) and have recently completed my college degree. The last class I had to take was Sociology. The teacher was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human being had been graced with. Her last project of the term was called “Smile.”

The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document their reactions. I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say hello anyway, so, I thought this would be a piece of cake, literally.

Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonald’s one crisp March morning. It was just our way of sharing special playtime with our son.

We were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and then even my husband did. I did not move an inch… an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved.

As I turned around I smelled a horrible “dirty body” smell, and there standing behind me were two poor homeless men. As I looked down at the short gentleman, close to me, he was “smiling”. His beautiful sky blue eyes were full of God’s Light as he searched for acceptance. He said, “Good day” as he counted the few coins he had been clutching. The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally challenged and the blue-eyed gentleman was his salvation. I held my tears as I stood there with them.

The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted. He said, “Coffee is all Miss” because that was all they could afford. (If they wanted to sit in the restaurant and warm up, they had to buy something. He just wanted to be warm). Then I really felt it - the compulsion was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with the blue eyes.

That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me, judging my every action. I smiled and asked the young lady behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray. I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue-eyed gentleman’s cold hand. He looked up at me, with tears in his eyes, and said, “Thank you.” I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, “I did not do this for you. God is here working through me to give you hope.”

I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son. When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, “That is why God gave you to me, Honey, to give me hope.” We held hands for a moment and at that time, we knew that only because of the Grace that we had been given were we able to give. We are not church goers, but we are believers. That day showed me the pure Light of God’s sweet love.

I returned to college, on the last evening of class, with this story in hand. I turned in “my project” and the instructor read it. Then she looked up at me and said, “Can I share this?” I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class. She began to read and that is when I knew that we as human beings and being part of God share this need to heal people and to be healed. In my own way I had touched the people at McDonald’s, my husband, son, instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night I spent as a college student. I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn: UNCONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE.

Much love and compassion is sent to each and every person who may read this and learn how to

LOVE PEOPLE AND USE THINGS - NOT LOVE THINGS AND USE PEOPLE.

If you think this story has touched you in any way, please send this to everyone you know. There is an Angel sent to watch over you. In order for her to work, you must pass this on to the people you want watched over.

An Angel wrote: Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.

To handle yourself, use your head; To handle others, use your heart.

God Gives every bird it’s food, but He does not throw it into its nest.

I knew when the reporter said it that it would never happen. This is a guy who flies as far away from the action as possible. He’d never fly into danger. Never, even when there is none.

You all know what I’m talking about, right? You know, the news reports that told us George W. Bush was going to fly into the Dallas area yesterday or today to see how the emergency readiness was going. Yeah, that’s right. Old “Send me to Texas and Alabama instead of where the fighting is” Bush. The “Let’s stay aloft in Airforce One until all danger is past, then head to Colorado instead of the Oval Office where I might be able to set an example for the country” Georgie Boy. My first thought on hearing the news: “Sure he will.” And then I laughed my rear end off.

Oh, I’ve heard all the excuses. “The National Guard DOES go to war sometimes.” Sure it does, especially now that you’re not in it, Dubya, but back then everyone and their cat and dog knew the National Guard was where any guy 18 or over wanted to be before the draft notice came. And I will admit, some did go, but not many, and certainly not from the “Champagne Units” like the ones you were in.

Oh, and let’s not forget about how important the President is, and how the world can’t function without him, so he needs to be shielded at all costs. Uh huh. But…isn’t that what the Line of Succession is for? I mean, lose the Pres, the VP takes over. Lose them both, the Speaker of the House is up. All three of them gone? The Attorney General, I believe. Then you have others lined up behind him/her all the way to Head Janitor of the Congress, I think. It was all set up way back when, so really, what’s it matter if the Prez is incapacitated? Someone else will step in who is very well versed in what to do, or so the story goes.

Anyway, while the Congress people, the aides, the pages, the janitors, and everyone else were all still in D.C., maybe in the line of fire, our Esteemed Leader had tucked his tail between his legs and started a race away from…..absolutely nothing, as it turned out. I don’t think any of the Presidents who came before him would have run away like that, not even his Dad. I mean, if you can’t find a safe place in Washington D.C., where can you hide? There are more shelters under those streets and buildings than you could shake a stick at, and there’s no way anyone could get to the people down in those things, so what’s the problem?

By the time AF1 stopped circling the country and headed for Colorado, we knew there were no more planes flying, and it seemed to be over, so why run? Oh, yeah. It’s George W. Bush, and that’s what he does when faced with a possible threat to his health. So, yes, when I heard he was supposed to go to Dallas before the storm hit, I knew it would never happen. I simply don’t know why they felt they needed to pretend he was really interested, you know?

Now, there is a mayor from a city near me that went back there last weekend to see if he could help and bring refugees of Katrina back here if they wanted to come, and he’s still there. He’s in a home in Slidell, Miss as we speak, waiting for the storm to pass so he can go help those who need it. Several reporters are down there, big names like Brian Williams, but W? He’s in…..well, whaddaya know….Colorado again! The mayor, by the way, is Alan Autry, Bubba of “In The Heat Of The Night fame, and he’s the Mayor of Fresno now. I’ve got to give him his due, he’s a bigger man than…..well, you know.

So, anyway, as I leave you tonight, the wind and rain are pelting New Orleans and other parts of Louisiana once again, Brian Williams is hunkered down in Bradford or Galeston, one of those places in the line to get a direct hit, and George W. Bush, our esteemed President is…….in Colorado, hundreds of miles away, enjoying another vacation. But don’t worry. Once the wind and rain have gone, the sun comes back out, and all threat of danger is gone, he’ll be popping his pinhead up again, and then he’ll be crawling all over the wreckage left by the hurricane, looking for a hand to shake for the perfect photo op. Mark my words.

I was flipping through channels a while ago and ran across the Jerry Springer Show. I thought it had been cancelled, but I guess it must be in re-runs for some reason. Anyway, I never paid much attention to it since I felt the “people” who came on there were just too stupid and uncouth to be real. I watched the show today, since there was nothing else on at the moment, and I made a shocking discovery. This time around, the people don’t seem so strange.

Oh, they’re still the same bunch of losers and whiners, incest practitioners and cross-dressing freaks, but all in all, they seem to be no worse than what you can see any day of the week all around you. If you look hard enough, anyway. And, after sitting through another season of Big Brother, I’m more convinced than ever that they do their recruiting at the Jerry Springer exit doors.

This whole season has been one idiotic move after another, dominated by a group of dingbats and misfits that just kept insisting on drinking the Kool Aid. How else do you explain a Latina Lesbian who goes ga-ga over a Napoleon-wannabe fireman who called his whole tribe “bitches” as if it were a term of endearment? I mean, this girl knew Cappy for maybe two weeks before he was voted out of the house in a revenge move, and she spent the rest of the two months whining about him. “Cappy” this, and “Cappy” that, “Where’s my Cappy when I need him?”, “I wish Cappy was still here”, etc. I mean, his partner wasn’t even moaning that much about him being gone, but this girl just kept evoking his name and mooning over him like a love-sick school girl.

Now, she came in with a partner, a gay man who is supposed to be her best friend, and yet she all but ignored him in her mad dash to sign her whole life over to a guy she’d just met and will probably never see again after the whole thing is over. Her family even wondered what was up with her, voicing their concerns during interviews. And to top it all off, she managed somehow to get herself all the way to the end, winning the final Head of Household position, and then had to choose between the partner of Cappy, who everyone on their team worshipped as a demi-god, and the last surviving member of the Outcasts team, who everyone on the winner’s side hated.

Now, since the jury who decides who gets the half million bucks is mostly made up of those who hate the Outcast, the same ones who worship the other woman, you would think she’d cement her win by taking the hated one, right? Are you kidding? Heck no, she chose to go to the finals with the most admired person from her side, knowing she will probably end up with fifty thousand instead of the half million. Now I ask you, what kind of intelligence does that take? A sure bet against a sure loss, and she takes the loss. Go figure.

Now, in “real life” there are more and more examples of the Springer mentality, too. There are women killing their husbands, stuffing them in barrels of acid, and letting them rot in a rented storage unit, and all to be with a man young enough to be her son. There are teachers all over the country, male and female, who are helping themselves to the young kids they teach as if they are in a delicatessen and only have to choose their flavor of the day. Their are religious leaders who do the same with the flock they are supposed to be caring for, and doctors who perform exams on patients that have no basis in medical propriety, even when those patients are under the effects of anesthesia.

Then we have the “Men of God” who spout the stupidest thoughts as if they were coming straight from God, the politicians who berate other politicians for lying while all the time they are doing the same and even worse. How about the ones who jumped all over Clinton for his sexual indiscretions, only to be found to have committed their own? Are these people really so stupid they don’t know they will be found out eventually? Obviously so, which begs the question “What the heck are we doing voting these fools in time and again?”

I tell you, when you open your eyes and look around, pay attention to what is being said and reported, it becomes very clear that indeed, it is a Jerry Springer world, and one can only ask why he is still seen as a low life setting up wild stories for ratings when all he has to do is walk down any street in any town across this country and find enough real stories to keep him going for years? Beats me. But it does make you want to stay inside your house, doesn’t it?

Ok, I just have to do this. I mean, it was so uncertain all season whether my Yankees would make it to the playoffs this year or not, so having them come on so strong now and end up sitting in a position to not only make the Wild Card but to actually take the American League East Division Championship is worthy of praise, I feel.

Now, you may think it strange that a California girl who’s never been to New York in her life would be so devoted to the Yankees, but it’s really simple, you see. I know class when I see it. There is no other team in baseball that comes anywhere near the record of the America’s Team, and there never will be.

Oh, sure, all you fans of other teams will be screaming “How dare you, don’t you know the (insert team name here) are so much better, blah, blah, blah!”, but honey, all I can say is, the record tells the story. No team - and I mean absolutely none - compares to the Yankees. Yeah, they may beat them a year here or a year there, but no other team in the history of baseball has won as many games and campionships, let alone World Series Championships, as the the Yankees have, so face it - your teams wannabe the Yankees. But they can’t!

I know, I sound really rude here, but I just can’t help myself. I love my team so much, and I’m so proud of how they pull together, no matter what comes at them, and just win. Now, maybe my bragging about them will jinx it and send them on a losing streak that will end all hopes of a playoff berth, but even if it does happen, the fact still remains that the New York Yankees are the King of American Baseball, and it’s going to be an awful long time before any other team knocks them off the throne. I’m willing to bet it never happens.

Do you ever wonder if God really does exist? Is it a normal human thought that comes to all of us occasionally, or is it just me? I find it strange whenever that question hits me because I have believed in Him since I was old enough to remember. I know He is there. I know He created everything in existence, but sometimes I look around and wonder if they were right back in the 60’s when they decided He is dead. I mean, how could the God I’ve always known and loved let the things happen that we see every day? It makes no sense.

The Bible tells us He is our Father, that He loves us and only wants the best for us, and yet that’s not what we get most of the time. How could He love us and let us suffer so badly? What kind of Father allows His children to hurt, to cry, to have their very hearts broken time and again and do nothing to stop it? I don’t understand.

I am a mother and grandmother. I have six children and four grandchildren (so far), and I love each and every one of them with my whole heart and soul. If I thought something bad was happening to any of them and there were something I could do to stop it, I’d do it in a heartbeat because I simply cannot stand seeing those I love in pain of any kind. My parent’s were the same way with my brother and me, my brother is the same way with his kids, our grandparents were that way….every parent I’ve ever known, save two or three who should never have become parents, have been that way. So why isn’t God?

How can He sit there and watch people in Africa - men, women, and children - dying from hunger? How can he let so many die from diseases? How can he see nations at war and not step in and stop the death they cause? Why does he allow babies to be born in so much pain, so physically and/or mentally deformed they can never live a “normal” life? Why does he allow rapists, murderers, torturers, and fiends to live? How can he let so many people’s lives be ended or at least horrifically impacted by floods, earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, etc? Where is he whenever we need him most?

Yes, I’ve heard the cutesy poems and writings about only one set of prints in the sand during life’s roughest times and learning He was really carrying us then, but it just doesn’t wash. Who was carrying those who were swept away in the tsunami and hurricane? Who was carrying those who made it to dry ground only to be preyed on by muggers, rapists, and thieves, and a government at all levels that seemed to not give a rat’s ass about them? Where was he when those babies were dying from lack of water and food, or the elderly who needed medical attention and medicine? No loving Father would watch their children going through all that and do nothing.

I know the Bible says we aren’t supposed to question his reasons and methods, etc, but come on. How can they tell us one thing and then, when we see what they’ve told us seems to be untrue, tell us we can’t question that or we risk spending eternity in hell? What kind of logic is that? I simply can’t correlate the two sides of this Father of ours - the kind, loving Father, and the stern, disciplinarian, heartless, cruel, and uncaring One. It simply doesn’t compute.

I don’t know why I’m writing this today, maybe it’s just a delayed reaction to all that’s been going wrong the last few years. All I know is, if my Dad had left me to fend for myself under circumstances like people have been facing over that time he would have been arrested and jailed for child abuse and neglect. No loving Father would allow their children to go through all these things. God is perfectly capable of stopping these things, of protecting everyone from them. Well, He does if He exists. And that brings me to the original question again, which is, does God really exist? Anyone out there got any answers, because I’ll tell you the truth, I’m all out right now.

[Photo courtesy VTcam.com]

I love Fall. The colors that make it almost too dangerous to drive because you become so struck by the beauty of the landscape; watching those leaves falling from their summer homes and piling around the base of the tree that gave them life; raking those leaves into piles that still, after all these years, make me want to do nothing more than go to the far side of the yard, make a mad dash, and end with a wild jump into them. I love the smells of Fall, too. Sitting outside, wrapped in a warm blanket, smelling the smoke from the dying fire those leaves made while sipping a cup of hot chocolate - there’s not much that can beat that.

I love the nip in the air when you go out in the early morning, with the sun shining brightly off the moisture covering the browning lawn. I love the evenings that are cool enough to need a jacket or that warm blanket, but not so cold you can’t stand to sit out and watch the stars shimmer. And really, is there a better time to watch the stars than Autumn? The sky seems a darker, deeper blue, and the stars have a particularly bright shine to them for some reason. The whole sky looks like a Harry Winston black velvet pallet full of the brightest, most beautiful and fiery diamonds ever created.

And the Fairs! Here in the country, County Fairs are one of the favorite ways for residents to spend a Fall evening or two. Maybe even three or four. The exhibits are always interesting, and it’s fun to see whether the judges agreed with you as to which pie/quilt/relish was best, which vegetable or fruit should be awarded the prize as Best of Show, and which of the myriad of variaties of farm animals should be named Grand Prize Winner in each category. Yes, it’s a simple kind of fun, but there isn’t much that can beat it.

There are the carnival rides, the Grandstand shows with big name performers and acts that “astound and amaze”, and, lest we forget, the food. Now, honestly, have you ever in your life eaten a corn dog that is anywhere near as good as the ones at the Fair? How about the Funnel Cakes? And, around here anyway, the Indian Tacos? Now, I’m not sure if the food is that much better or if it’s just the surroundings, but I’ve never eaten anything at a Fair that wasn’t head and shoulders above the same food anywhere else. Now, I had two grandmothers who could cook anything and make it taste good, but Fair food is still my favorite.

Living in California as I do, Fall is usually a very short lived season, so maybe that’s why I love it so much. I don’t know. All I know is we may, if we are very lucky, have Fall for a month, maybe a month and a half, and year before last we had about a week of Fall between Summer’s heat and Winter’s freezing temperatures. The leaves had barely started turning colors before they all ended up on the ground, with frost covering them in the morning. It was a hard year for us Fall enthusiasts, I’ll tell you that. This year I’m hoping for better.

We’ve had a very hot summer, twice breaking records for longest streak of days over 100 degrees, but it’s been cooler the last week or so, and I have hopes that means Fall will be here soon. If so, this may be one of our longer Fall years, and that can only be a good thing. Maybe that’s why I am so anxious for it to start, too. Our County Fair opens in a week or so, and I really would love to have to take my warm sweater with me when I head on over there, knowing I’ll have to slip it on at some point before I come back home. There’s just something wrong about going to the County Fair in shorts and a tank top, and sweating the whole time anyway. It’s just not normal, you know?

Whenever I feel something intensely, I have found my best path for release is through poetry.
Following are three poems written about the 9/11 tragedy. The first expresses my feelings on the day it happened, the second was written two months later, and the third was written for the one year anniversary of the event that shook our lives to the core. My whole life was changed forever, just picked up, twisted 180 degrees, and slammed back down, with no way to return to what I’d always known. I believe this holds true for all of us who were alive and old enough to realize what had just happened, and I’m not trying to say my experience was any worse or better than anyone else’s. These are just my thoughts as time progressed.

MY HOME

My home is a beautiful, wonderous place
With mountains and rivers and trees full of grace
The sky just seems bluer, the sun warms my face.
My home. The U.S.of A.

The morning was busy, just like any other
The sun was ablaze, the sea birds on hover
The people were working, some shopping with mother
While others just walked. One more day.

The TV was droning the news of the day
The market was steady, the skies weren't grey
The man on the news butted in. What'd he say?
A plane in New York - What'd he say?

The screen showed a picture of smoke, fire, fear
The words that he spoke were of airplanes-not here!
I saw the big plane heading straight for the tower
Oh God! Dear God! Look away!

But looking away wasn't possible. No
I had to keep looking, to see, even tho
I knew that it had to be some kind of joke.
A movie scene. Yeah, that was it.

I watched as the buildings that had stood so tall
Burned brighter and trembled and started to fall
I knew this was real. I wanted to scream.
I wanted this to be a dream.

In a flash, in a crash, in a horrible scene
My home was attacked, right there on the screen
My homeland, my country,the one that I love
Was raped and assaulted by thugs.

Then when I accepted that this was all true
That man came back on, there was something new
Now they had struck at the heart of my land
Where else would they go? This cannot stand!

We waited for hours, to see if some other
hate-filled sick coward would blow up another
of our many treasures or more of our brothers
But no more came. God, help us now.
Never again will I open my eyes on the world 
I have known since my birth.  I silently thanked 
God my Dad had not lived to see this day.
I wish I hadn't, either. 

I will never again feel safe in my home. 
My beautiful, blessed home. 
Home of the brave, land of the free.

SUNDOWN
I watch the sunlight streaming in the window 
and wonder if there will ever be another day like 
I remember.
The sun is bright and warm, but not like then.
Then, the brightness was almost a feeling,
Like touching it, and being touched back by it.
Sometimes it hit my face like a warm slap.
And sometimes it felt like a gentle stroke, so soft.
Now, it's just there. Just warm. Just...sun.

I look out on my world and wonder where it went.
And then I know: It left on the day our innocence died.
It just got up and walked away, or maybe it was
blown away, the force of the blows just so hard it 
couldn't stay to see the destruction caused by those 
whose own lives are constructed from anger, pain, 
greed, cowardice, and an allegiance to their supposed God. 
Some God!
Oh, Dear God, where are you now? Don't let him win.

The pain is overwhelming, so horrifically hard to bear
That I only want to quit now. No more. Please.
I pray that I am sleeping, some pickle-induced nightmare
Carrying me with it, unrelenting in it's insistence 
that I see,
That I watch, with growing horror, the scene 
spread out 
Before me, like some poisonous, maggot-infested feast
Laid before jackals. My stomach rolls, leaps, tries
To escape, all the while knowing it is destined 
To stay, to watch.

I don't want to see this sun again. I can't.
To continue to witness it's eternal rising 
and falling
Seems somehow cruel, sacrilegious, tiresome, 
wrong.  I want to go back to when the sun saw 
us happy,
Living our lives with promise, 
worrying about insignificant things.
Not death, or plague, or men who could 
be so cruel.
But I can't. The road only goes one way, 
and I am stuck here, watching.
I'm tired now, God. I want to stop now. 
Please. Let me get off. Please.

PEACE NOW!

A year has passed
Since our peace ended.
A year of fear, 
Of war, hope blended,
Mixed with anger,
Hatred, sorrow,
Wondering about tomorrow.
Will we feel the pain again?
The loss of family and friends?
Will we ever live content,
Or sleep in peace, so confident
That this will never come again, 
This fear, the never knowing when
The hate will strike our home once more,
The pain come rushing in our door?
The tears, the pride, the love, the grief,
The sorrow, praying for relief.
Dear God, will all this ever pass
And will we see it closed at last?
I pray that day is drawing near,
When we’ll have peace instead of fear. 

It’s been five days now, and I’ve kept my thoughts to myself, hoping for the best, but now it’s time to say what I’ve been thinking, so here goes.

Shame on us. I am using the collective term since we are ultimately in charge of what happens to ourselves and our country, although I daresay none of us wanted what happened this past week. We, however, are in charge of putting the person in office who controls what happens in our country and the world, and when that person doesn’t do his job correctly, the buck has to stop with us.

The Gulf Coast has gone through one of the most horrific occurances in recorded history this week, and our decency and humanity was tested to the max. Sadly, we failed. Oh, not the people themselves, for undoubtedly we all realize just how horrible the hurricane was, and just what a nightmare the aftermath has become, but no one can deny that as a collective, represented by those we put in charge, we failed miserably in our obligations to our fellow Americans in their time of need. And that is unforgivable.

It seems the hardest hit was New Orleans, although Mississippi was pretty torn up, too, along with Alabama and parts of Florida. Katrina did a pretty good job of messing things up all along the coast. But, all in all, New Orleans got the worst of it, and they are the ones that seem to be the most ignored. Yes, ignored. Five days to get water and food to people who had no way to get out of Katrina’s way, while news trucks and cameras had no problem getting in there, is a pretty good indication they were ignored. One has to wonder why. Some think it’s a race thing, and to be sure, most of those in the Superdome and other places are black, but is that too simple an answer? No one wants to believe that could be it, but what else is there?

Sure, it was flooded badly, yet some managed to get through. President Bush managed to fly over the area on his way back to Washington, so what about air drops? Helicopters were flying all over, rescuing people from roof tops, taking pictures, etc. Why couldn’t they carry water and food to the Superdome in helicopters and drop it? I heard a lot of ballyhooing about snipers, but that never stopped the chopper pilots and gunners in Viet Nam from going in and getting out soldiers who were trapped, at least not most of the time. But then, again, why weren’t the tv copters and reporters fired on? They still got the pictures.

No, there is no good, rational reason for ignoring the thousands of people stuck there all that time. You say it hasn’t been that long? Try going without food and water for five days and see how long you last. And what about the sick, the old, and the babies? There are pictures and first-hand accounts of people dying all around them, in the Superdome, the convention center, and the highway some were removed to from dehydration, among other things. I even saw a picture that tore my heart in two of an old lady who was helpless, left lying on the tarmac at the airport because there wasn’t room for her inside. She was lying there, alone, looking around for someone to help. She looked like my grandma, and it made my heart ache to see that.

All I kept wondering was where is the help? I mean, when things happen in other places, such as the tsunami, help is there the next day. Sure, it takes time to get to everyone, but at least it’s there. Where was the help in New Orleans? We finally get a convoy to the Superdome yesterday, which coincidentally coincided with Bush getting down to check it out and make another self-serving speach. Did I say coincidence? What do you think?

I saw Harry Connick, Jr., on the the Today show yesterday morning, after he had managed to get in and tour the place. He’d been there for a couple of days, at least, and he had no trouble getting in and getting around. He was out walking the streets, looking at what used to be his hometown stomping grounds, or what was left of them, and still no water or food for the victims. He was livid, and I don’t blame him one bit. These are people, human beings, fellow Americans, and leaving them to die in the streets for five days in the richest, strongest, most wonderful country in the world is just simply a disgrace of the highest order.

Well, we put the people in office who brought us here, didn’t we? We not only voted Bush in once (well, in all actuality, the majority of us did vote for Gore), but after seeing the way he screwed up the Bin Laden search and turned it into a revenge hit on Saddam, we voted him in again. Why? Because even knowing he is a liar to beat all liars, too many of us believed the lies he fed us about John Kerry and were afraid to give him the shot he should have had. We did it, now we have to live with it.

God knows he hasn’t been caught with his pants down yet, so an impeachment is out of the realm of possibility. No, killing our kids, ignoring our own people in times of need, helping his oil buddies get richer by charging us whatever the hell they want to for gas and turning us into a bigger target for any of the myriad of loonies out there who hate us isn’t anywhere near as bad as letting a willing, 21 year old intern blow the Presidential Piccolo.

Now, lest I be misunderstood, let me say I think the American people as a whole have done a wonderful job of trying to help these people. They have opened their pockets, their homes, and even hotels and airlines have stood up by offering free lodging and free flights out of the hardest hit areas. I have nothing but praise for everyone who has done their part, and many times much more than their part, to help those who need it. But there is no way around the fact that we put the fools in office who have been slacking so badly during all this, and we all share the blame for their lack of concern and action.

I include myself in this, although I never even voted for the bum once, but as an American I have to accept the fact that we screwed up, and I am one of us, so I accept my share of the blame. I only hope that the next time something like this happens we will have learned to weigh our options carefully and not be swayed by the party line, no matter which party it comes from, especially when there is ample proof out there that the party line is out of whack with reality.