“The miasma of reason”©

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If there is but a logical reason

for everything that is done…

find me one salient reason for

‘political correctness,’ just one,

to rely on the emphasis of its

use leads one to thoughts of dread,

to bespeak of such things, in a

free society, is to soon see it dead,

there is political correctness found

in China… are we so found here as such…

or in the old communist Russia, to disagree

with the Czar… your life to mean so much,

don’t lose your own muchness, that which

 is seen to be you… as you are or said,

we are not the bastards they believe us

to be, No-no, our parents were surely wed,

and to feel the damned need to coddle

another’s feelings before we seek to share…

I think is so damned ridiculous, don’t you…

why don’t they simply grow a pair?

{Miasma: a highly unpleasant  or unhealthy smell or vapor, an oppressive or unpleasant atmosphere that surrounds or emanates from something}Image005-1

“Then and now”©

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“One September morning”©

One September morning

when terrorists came knocking,

knock, knock, knocking upon

our American door.

Yes, they found us napping-

our skies were not so friendly

with so many people working

before the glass did shatter

one event-filled September morning.

The news was very shocking,

we found our hands were bound,

and as our heads were shaking

four planes hit the ground

one bitter September morning.

One September morning

when terrorists came knocking,

knock, knock, knocking upon

our American door.

The truth was quite revealing,

our worst fears realized with

the W.T.C. towers falling and

the Pentagon not fully breached…

one unforgettable September morning.

The fourth plane was flying

and though they knew their fate,

before they would be dying

Red and White stood up so bravely

one Blue September morning.

One September morning

when terrorists came knocking,

knock, knock, knocking upon

our American floor.

It was as the dust was rising…

worldly eyes were now upon U.S.

and the support we were seeking,

we looked for our survivors

one bleak September morning.

Blue men, Red trucks searching-

all heroes each and every one,

volunteers too with people saving,

we salute you tried and true

one grim September morning.

One September morning

when terrorists came knocking,

knock, knock, knocking upon

our American core.

What the terrorists not knowing,

a day or two later

just how many flags were flying-

we were galvanized shore to shore

many patriotic September mornings.

From one September morning

Americans will come knocking,

knock, knock, knocking upon

the terrorist’s door.

(This was written “then,” a poem called,”One September morning“)

“And they called the wind… “©

And they called the wind Al Qaida…

as if to control the breeze of fear,

a bridge of tears throughout the years

and the sighs of discontentment-

sheer resentment tailing the moans and groans.

The wind screams past the ears of those who

heard, shuddering, and scuttling the

dreams of freedom,

only the lingering memories

contain the refrain of patriotism-

the notes wielding the timber and vibrato

of emotions spent.

So sent by those who achieved the goal

that swallowed us whole,

and the days now longer than the days

in which the winds began.

I ran… you ran… we ran to quell the wind-

as though we could.

A Dr. Lovejoy experience, with a lasso we

roped the tornado and found

our tiger by the tail.

A turbaned whirling dervish of a devil,

dizzy from the chase,

exhausted by the thought of containing

beliefs and no relief in sight.

And they called the wind Al Qaida.

(This is written for “now,” and is more current… also in my second book (soon to come out, called,”Of eagles and ostriches”). What can I say… starving poet, it takes money to be able to do all this, doesn’t it? This is where I must thank you for your unfailing support here… and on my next days off I’ll make some changes to “my Blog roll,” to reflect this sentiment of mine for all you have done. Thanks Representative Hamilton (Rebecca).

“To make a league of amity and confederacy”©

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Has the pattern of governance we share been

repeated in past days, the Senate of Rome…

where within the chamber walls once was

known daily council, well ordered to the end,

whereby the citizens could so petition to rights

bestowed on them from the laws so timely passed,

making both confederacy and peace attainable-

to make a league of amity… confederate to defend,

what can be peaceably begun may wear its toll

within the sleeves of legality, unfurled deceit…

whereupon in time of need to be left behind

and indefensibly attired, incapable by lack,

this would be how we are in fine position now…

as the bills for services of: defense, medical

insurance, borrowing and other well intended

programs have run their course… not intact,

have we counted on our own so un-rationally…

to be questioning our allegiance so stated bare,

blindly trusting either party or due process to

gain us a voice to speak our mind and heart,

should we find true a libertine in the chamber

of the Senate, the heart and soul of our country…

wherein the nature of such individuals are for

their own… to understand it first a place to start.

“Statehood… all for the shouting of,”Fire.”©

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How can war crimes be claimed: in

an undeclared war, by a people

wearing no military insignia or

by those who would instigate it?


This is what the Palestinians would claim against Israel… should the world give them the chance to. Don’t we already know what the goal is… to remove the country of Israel from the map? International efforts are already attempting to remove Jerusalem as the capital of Israel for this push… nudge of empowering the notion of ‘a proposed state of Palestine.’ This not only flies in the face of reality but runs counter to the belief rebuilding the temple would be for the Jewish people (a place to gain worshipping ability as it was in the past).

“Stone alarm clock?”©

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Unlike the Nazca lines, on the Pampa in Peru…

the Mayan symbols in stone leave us wondering,

and the wondering goes beyond the time to come

so quickly now… Saturday the 22nd of December,

the day after the calendar ends… the time unseen,

the alarm has been set in stone and the motion of

our minds swallows thoughts to what happens now…

the alarm clock has no movement but wind and time,

the arms point to this day so specifically… tomorrow

tells us more than Y2K, don’t spend it all on ‘black friday.’

Check these two sites on the Nazca lines:



and this one on the Mayan calendar…


so now it is “wait and see,” to see what the stone alarm clock is all about.

“Faust… I thank you”©

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To know less once more is known

and this by learn’ed man’s lament,

to feel no more… no less than he

once put mind to task as sent,

the paradox to find… the vastness

of the great beyond the known…

ever to be behind the hand of God’s

ability… a sorrow learned and shown.









“Have you always known of His breath?”©

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“Grandfather, where can we find

the answers we need,” asked the child?

“Child, you will find the answers

you need in the garden of the wolf…

where the wind will bring you the 

answers you should feel, and touch…

there should be no stronger bond

than to self and to Mother Earth,

save for the Creator Himself.”


The child thought and said,

“Grandfather, why haven’t we

continued those ways…

how could we forget the needs of the

heart, the lungs needed to fill and 

the nose used to help one sense

danger or that which provides food,

life to continue… fulness found

within… for all around?”


“Child, not everyone sees the

signs as you will… a sensitive

is the sign of the snake… your

path is grounded by things of

the Earth, to see the path

of men, to whisper the faults

and not be understood is not

your concern, tell it from your 

heart with a straight tongue.”

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