The media are so desperately trying to gaslight you that the shooter is a right wing extremist who thought Charlie Kirk wasn’t “far right” enough. Because the cowardly assassin was raised in a Republican home with conservative parents who support the 2nd Amendment they want you believe this was MAGA killing their own.
What the fake news media omit is the killer is a troubled young man in a relationship with a trans man who was radicalised to hate Christian conservatives like Kirk. Well, Charlie Kirk didn’t hate trans people or anybody else. I see all the haters and cowards on this website and on social media trying to defend the indefensible. The only place I’ve seen that level of delusion and derangement is in a cult.
Charlie Kirk would probably have been President one day, but much more than that, he would have been a great father and leader and force for good. You killed the man but his legacy will be felt for a very long time.
Not one building has been set on fire, not one store looted, not one riot taken place, and not one person murdered in the aftermath. Compare that to George Floyd. That’s the difference between us and them!
polished stones and reeds
on the banks of woodland stream -
a thousand chirpings
Severing of ties with our allies.
Court orders blatantly defied.
Plans to privatize, those federal
agencies now downsized..
Green card holders traumatized..
A thousand cuts.
A thousand bleeds.
Our wounded democracy falls
to it's knees,,
Lawyers and judges receive death threats.
Freedom of speech being suppressed.
Deportation with out due process.
Defunding colleges and PBS..
A thousand cuts.
A thousand bleeds.
Our democracy hemorrhages.
Our rights recede, as we
sleep walk into Autocracy...
polished stones and reeds
on the banks of woodland stream -
a thousand chirpings
A thing that yearns in constant devour,
And finds itself to be a constant sour,
Totally dissolute… and an accumulation of none,
Is the thing that burns, at a constant run.
For the thing is… in all its effortless glory,
The ache of a thousand suns.
It's all in the eyes
You will know the truth
Tears cannot lie how much
Pain the heart express inside
How deep is the longing
You see how weary the eyes is
The response of the opposite
Meet the eyes that speak sympathy
Sparkling eyes speaks ecstasy
A joy unspeakable, an embrace lock
A lonely eyes suggest kindness
Need tight embrace for empathy
An angry eyes ignite fire blaze
A revengeful, destructive malady
Eyes speak love, betrayal and sadness
It never lie but express varied meaning
But loving eyes wins all knees to bend for glory.
‘Pon taxpayers a tad more trust,
On tax kitty a tad less lust,
Tax that dulls no young dream,
Gathers cream just from brim,
Tax too shy to assume,
Lets thousand flowers bloom,
A tax is no broom to clean dust.
_______________________
Happenings |04.05 2015, revised February 2025|
Not that the greed of the governments would let them heed to this unwanted advice. But this ditty is still hopeful, may in case….Wish, it reminds them of what WB Yeats once said: ‘Tread softly because you tread on my dreams'…. First written in 2015, ten years later the ditty is still hopeful.
Bibi exchanges hundreds of murderers
with blood on their hands
for a handful of hostage civilians
fueling Hamas’ evil plans
for ‘a thousand more October sevens’
horrific antisemitic aggressions…
Sleep well, Bibi, tonight
as your countrymen's nightmares ignite
Crunching the frozen ground beneath my feet,
I wade through snow, soft and white, endlessly deep.
The golden sun reflects on this snowy embrace,
And armfuls of joy fill my gaze with grace.
The blue sky, the sun's light, so clear and bright,
Where have the dark clouds vanished from sight?
My eyes cannot hold the brilliance, they shy away,
As the snow’s pure glow kisses them all day.
My eyes meet the snow’s dazzling gleam,
From my chest bursts a pure white dream.
My heart aches softly, time and again,
With a thousand-year longing for life’s domain.
With a thousand-year longing for life’s domain!
The Power of a thousand rising suns
Do I feel the power of a thousand rising suns
Over a blazing sky when the day has just begun
Do I touch the sky on a blue never ending
As I chase the sun wanting a day unending
I wonder if my dreams are still flying free
Whilst others feast on things not important to me
For I’ve had dreams and wishes that collide
Churning and changing into something I can’t abide
Am I drifting on a naked deep blue ocean
As it has forever swayed and been in motion
Do you wander alone on that open sea
As I wait wanting something created for me.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Like ancient rivers carved in stone,
These marks tell tales of storms now flown,
Of battles fought when night was long,
Of learning, slowly, to belong.
These faded paths upon my skin
Speak not of where I've fallen, but where I've been—
Each one a chapter, not an end,
A reminder of my power to mend.
They whisper now of distant days,
Of how we grow in countless ways,
These badges of a warrior's heart
Who chose to stay, to make a new start.
Guess who just received a thousand text messages
Saying how they are sorry for cheating
And want to get back together
How they’re sorry for the side chicks
How they’re sorry for hitting the brick
How they were in a relationship with 3
How they slept with 3 times 3
Guess who received a thousand texts messages
….
…My ex
PS if you see this give me another chance
Thousands of bliss bubbles vibrate in our head,
capping, as it were, our presence in a mist,
wherein then thus by divine magnetism led,
heart sings on being by Divine Mother kissed.
Nodes within form, independent yet entwined,
all sing love’s song, being with bliss beats aligned
and the rapture we feel, with joy we exclaim,
effusing love and light, as our claim to fame.
.
‘tiz thuh
raison d’etre
the
neanderpoet
stopped not at
“Crack”
the artist
invented the
the pencil
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