There is no reason for this and yet, there. I am sure forensics can help, but that can pencil whipped.
Dangled your feet? High in the fountains on the precipice. Have you ever walked down a gravelly hill, with some self-doubt? Do you enjoy the rigeur, the strenuous back-drop, in a free falling dream?
In your dreams, what age are you? Are you waiting for someone? Has he or she fulfilled a blind spot? Do you just settle for diamonds or man-made stones? Do you have the desire of a princeor princess? How often do you get so close, that you feel like life is not a listless valley?
Do we soar, do we see the crags and stoney abutments? Do we wish that we have a cozy cave to protect our claim? Do our summits outweigh our tragedies? Can we withstand a flow of lava?
Can we rescue our fulfillments over a cup of tea? Do we see in totality or do we accept our altogether, a strong foothold?
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“My first impulse is always to behave, about everything, as if I feared complications. But I don’t fear them— I really like them. They’re quite my element.”
― Henry James,
I am very shocked and disappointed. I am sick of the media. And I am sick of those who blindly follow, news media,(both parties) You almost had a crisis of unimaginable proportions. Hillary is evil. Nasty to the military and I know this for a fact. You see, I was at Ramstein, AFB from 1981-1984. The ColdWar! And guess what? I was a SSgt there, a weather forecaster with Det. 2, 31st Weather Squadron. Before that stationed at LRAFB, where she was cruel, to we in the military. 74-81. For us that served and spat upon. That was not an allegation…
We were part of NATO. You could hear sorties being thrust through the air. We had F-4s with the 86th Tactical Fighter Wing. The 512th and 526th Squadrons. We routinely had Chemical Weapons Drills. There was, a very real chance of armageddon. Of course NATO and the United States Armed Forces in Europe (USAFE) are not blameless and were part of the problem, as was the Soviet Union and their coalition of dictators, who has fall-out destroying a whole city! And worse, the sides effects of radiation illnesses.
The very first day at Ramstein, the Bader-Meinhof gang blew up a portion of the NATO HQ there. I was told Ramstein was on lock down! Then General Dozier was nearly killed as a bomb exploded, on a railroad track as his staff car was armor-plated was crossing!
But a flaccid Defense is not an option. The tiger has escaped and the Giant Asian Hornet is beginning to migrate to Europe. The Asian hornet is the 747 of stinging venom. And the hornet is not a metaphor. Thirty of those monsters can kill an entire nest of honey bees Roughly 30,000 honey bees!! And can kill you in 15 minutes. Like the Tiger and the hornets, we have our hands full.
My point is, if we do not brace ourselves, our borders and our Allies, spoiled baby-man of Korea Kim Jil Yung will send us a batch of radiation and that is just North Korea! Iran is now armed to the teeth. Thanks Obama!!!
I was stationed at this base, when we had (United States) 30,000 Nukes and making it worse, Russian had 50,000! Our aircraft were buzzed by East German MIGS! We had T-37 pilots cussing out the enemy! The A-10s were stationed a few miles down the road.
Both nations should be ashamed! The sheer numbers of warheads, is one reason that the proliferation is spreading around the entire world so fast.
It is NOT about fariness. In fact, fairness is a dangerous concept, when this fairness is a snare. When snarky reporters do more harm than good. When politics is the end-game. When German Mayors downplay rapes and sexual harrasment to young girls. When these same politicians tell native Germans to find a new path to their schools.
When illegal aliens get preferential to citizenship, while Asians and others have to undergo all sorts of scrutiny. I saw one Syrian refugee ( a woman), who was appreciative of the host nation. She has inclination to hurt anyone. I would give my own life, for an innocent such as her.
Those minions who hurt defenseless people, I would not. My parents taught to respect all people. I will not let them point a gun at me. I can sho0t a rifle, if need be.
I want us all (The World) to start fixing housing, the homeless and those needing medical care. We need to start to occupying abandoned housing by cleaning those bases.
We need teeter todders over chemicals. We need hope for a mental dichotomy and compassion for those who were let out to find a home under an underpass.
I have had two friends die, one from ALS, the other, a rare form of Leukemia. Is that right, when some of this is caused by radiation and chemicals! I wish they were here today. SMSgt Floyd Parton had the ALS. Lucky for me, I could talk to him before he died. A deep sadness of mine, who was gentle, kind and compassionate. Bless you with tears in my eyes, even as I type here.
We MUST start acting like adults. We need to ban crude clitoral cutting in Africa which is in any case, misogyny. We need to protect women from rape and the incidental reliving of rapes and ALL FORMS OF ABUSE.
So much to do, kisses not rapes, more prosecution of miscreants who don ski caps and women who don the stigma of abuse. Reeling and will continue to do so. Ma`ny suffering mental abuse afterwards, and not saying that they made a MISTAKE!!!
Let’s be sure we are the helping hand. Not to terrorists, but those who want together rebuild new bridges, Metaphorically-speaking and literally too! Please!
Meteorologist Mike Scott.
There I was, lying in a ditch. The circumference of my head, was enough to make egress impossible. I was however, unwilling and quite recalcitrant. My head also fought with frantic madness. My Galaxy expanded, my Manic phases were of the ‘Hyper Kind”.
But overall vigilance became larger and with that, more space to fill. Some began to wonder about my madness. My existential clutters being excised, but to no avail.
Remember, some of the kids have died since these this song came out. A friend lost two kids eight and nine years old, with in one year. Both cancer. The girl, who was nine years old, was telling a girl that this nine-year was picking out her ‘funeral dress (hers)’. This was a crushing loss.
Almost too much. As our own baby passed away, it compelled me to help alleviate suffering, as much as I ca From charity event, to prayers of encouragement and your donations.
We set up a wish for the kids. There are the tired and suffering families, who carry the anchors of melancholy. We pass by way too quickly and the for the innocents who some have forgotten. Lets not forget the wounded and lost families. I lost a newborn, who was only a couple of weeks old. The baby was the size of my hand. About 16oz. The loss of David, and the kidnapping of my daughter, can only make one stronger. Some say “how”It is also something to thank God for.
These biting nightmares can manifest itself in miracles. To see the faces of jaded lives is to see something that can at least, make a child’s face and those of the parents smile. Watching your dreams fade, is only a start.
My own Bi-Polar stuff and Epilepsy makes it hard to type, but I would gladly give my life to the lives of my children. Not even a second thought, with no regrets.
The sickness comes and goes. The aura of my perceptions, are as maddening as the seizures. To the professionals in white, there was an unknown etiology. So seizures became abstract, with my foot fast, on the pedal. One foot became jealous. The jerking of limbs, who some thought stress, others Epilepsy. But I know for a fact, that these particles are obscure and these issues, so-to-speak, hung around like the rings of Saturn.
As I found a weak spot, on that surface as cold as winter ice, tiny fractures become splintered. Like slow-motion eddies on an icy plane. I ran frantically, from pole to pole, hearing wicked refrains and blessings in harps.
I took a shying twig and watered it. An evolution of a kind. A proximal gestation, already born. The sickness in the minds of man, new manacles, prostrate and sneaky. I took a glance at the lights from the North. Far below the icy Temples, the deep blue seas and lights redux, came the billowing spray.
My exigencies became clear. The icy-fog relented, the potent oceans quelled. A tiny yellow bird, looked around expectantly, locking eyes with me. In a dance of reluctant stars, a new bird was softly touching down. With it’s muse-like appearance, it become a willing blue. Effervescing glows on those winged warriors, find and preparing safe places, among the dingy snow.
Warning sign – busy people (sold) Anna
Source: Don’t start your week like this
I am feeling like an avalanche coming. The smallest tremor to set me off. Don’t get me wrong, I am not considering any self-harm, to me or to others. The shadows are coming again, slowly, but steadily. One or two of these are in ‘living color’. Shadows of doubt, panic attacks, like a Tsunami. I hear the roar, waters that creep and fill me, with pains of high and Low Tides.
I have thought of my new name. Do you like it? It was pretty racist to behold. I have shanks of poetry, misplaced grammar and enough hubris to weigh me down. But rather I wish to find a copper coin. I wish to elucidate, on a lily pad called destiny. I want to pick away the burrs. To the Longfellow chaps. I want to find a nuance and let it work for all of us. Not a twenty and definitely not a line for ghouls. I want to make mince meat into pies. Not lines of craters nor lines of white. I wish to find… and destroy it. I wish for them to grow. Not in some rusty hole. I pray that these come to pass.
It is the dawn of anxiety, I see my head floating downstream. Portable Sinkholes, elaborating, roiling downward, and making life ‘like a buoy’, a respite from the darkest downs.
A song, a note, reveries with plumb lines, like spider webs twisted. Sometimes the emotions are overwrought, with their own insanity, glossed over but not forgotten. Let us play harpsichords and twing a violin. Let’s stop the wrong kind of thing. Planting history with falling leaves.
Maging masayá sana ang araw mo!
Ang pangit ng Tagalog ko
Crashing waves upon distant shores.
Trying to make my song, a love song… Trying to make it, all yours. The Cicadas dancing at night , over and over, the same song plays, chafing upon tender heart strings. Violins in tempest, wrought iron stories, pinging like, footsteps on a forest floor.
Like Needles and pins, the ones that stick in our mind. Overlapping melodies from time to time. Crescent songs in the darkness of night, the dripping of tears, drifting downstream, drifting alright, drifting all night.
My song(s) will never play, not in other’s places, not in here nor in there, just black letters floating like liquid dreams. I feel the draft of cold dense clouds. I feel the heaviness of pain, like songbirds kept in canary coteries. Icons push past rich velvet cases. Inspiration, consecration, conflagrations, these make up our songs, with grains and coats of irony. No time for those things now, those that cannot last, until next time, maybe never or then again maybe, I’ll so try.
It all gets confusing, these songs that I am using. They double for themselves. They fold up and spread out again. Feelings as hard as the words they portray. No, many words that follow no path, at all. Effigies at best. But an effigy is profound, with the right kinds of song. With the push and pull of chords, past receivers and expounding alliterations, we delve into simulacra, crooning our version of that great song, feeling we have done something after-all.
Six worded songs, more than a haiku, it was more than just fun, more fun, more fun for now. Years re-pasted in the hallways, which look all too familiar, like pounds of upset visions, blurring fainted paint and changing numbers on doors so thin.
So if you wish to portray what others have said, that’s okay. Just give it a new cover and be pleased.