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!
Cinderella had fun at the ball
with her Prince charming, handsome and tall.
It got late and she would
run home fast as she could-
but one slipper fell off in a fall.
The Prince found it and let people know
he must find Cinderella, although
her glass shoe needs to fit-
those that don't, he'll omit.
The contenders did soon come and go.
Not one woman could match the small size.
Surely most of them did agonize!
But her mean stepsisters
chose to be enlisters
made a plan for large feet to disguise!
They then cut off some toes and the heel
disregarding the pain they would feel
planned to fool the Prince who
placed one shoe and withdrew!
As blood flowed, he collapsed with a squeal!
Cinderella forgave them for this-
took them under her wing with some bliss.
Found them men to soon wed.
At the wedding, instead-
pigeons plucked their eyes out with a hiss!
I forgot to add tomatoes to
the beef.
And I was told to put a 1/2
Of white grape juice in the
Broth with an additional
3 T of crown royal
and to omit the horseradish.
We added one teaspoon of
Anchovies oil to the mayo
and crumbled in some sun
dried tomatoes.
That should be the show!
Sweet banana peppers to
do the thang!
I forgot to add tomatoes to
the beef.
And I was told to put a 1/2
Of white grape juice in the
Broth with an additional
3 T of crown royal
and to omit the horseradish.
We added one teaspoon of
Anchovies oil to the mayo
and crumbled in some sun
dried tomatoes.
That should be the show!
Sweet banana peppers to
do the thang!
I forgot to add tomatoes to
the beef.
And I was told to put a 1/2
Of white grape juice in the
Broth with an additional
3 T of crown royal
and to omit the horseradish.
We added one teaspoon of
Anchovies oil to the mayo
and crumbled in some sun
dried tomatoes.
That should be the show!
Sweet banana peppers to
do the thang!
Because of your age
You leave me in a rage
Why temper me ?
When we walk on a lea
You wont bow to the Queen
Is it because your a teen
You wont walk the promenade
Is it because our love is frayed ?
Where is your joy
we are not built on clay
Seize the day
Once more omit the grey
Finally you have reprieved
I shall not be grieved
Ghostly, my echoes are moans floating in the air
like muffled murmurs carried on the wind
or rippling waves across a calm sea.
If I'd been singing lyrics to a sad melody,
I'd hear the haunting words until they'd fade away.
Where they end up, I'll never know.
How far do echoes go traveling from here to there?
Maybe they scatter through distant hills,
whispering as if they're telling my secrets.
Gossips, repeating in the timbre of my voice...
always in a rush to run away from me,
like children playing hide and seek
who cannot hush to keep me from finding them.
Even now I still hear my words in refrain.
Echoes are mirrored images of my voice
but in reverberating sounds instead of visions.
Reflective and repetitive,
with the ability to mimic my words,
only speaking what's been spoken.
I wish they had the ability
to filter words I'd rather they omit.
Things that in anger, I scream and shout.
I doubt the reality of that.
Only echoes in the Twilight Zone
would be so bizarre to be able
to manipulate my voice with one of their own.
Strange, how much louder they sound in the dark.
It should have said St John’s - with that apostrophe!
So many omit the little mark.
How could they, when its presence or absence
gives us one meaning or the other?
A tenant within these apartments
who is a mysterious lady,
placed the absent apostrophe on that poster,
kept this nighttime act a secret, and crept away.
St John was a saint we remember,
on the twenty-fourth of June:
it’s St John’s Day.
And this little mark marks that.
Without this modest mark, this little apostrophe,
we have a plural, not a possessive.
So how many Johns were there?
Or are these apartments named
after just the one John, as we’re told -
the one that has that little apostrophe?
Often do I wonder who
the mysterious tenant is, the one
who posts missing apostrophes.
(3 Sep 2024)
I don't know what I should call it,
and I'm not sure what it's about.
So, a title, I will omit,
and this poem can go without.
My closet, since you ask, is a cramped space,
Chosen and cherished fashionable base,
Essential part of my enchanted place,
With charm and chic to complement my face.
Shows off all hues of my life if I may -
From baby pink to darkest shades of grey,
Reflecting the intended role I play,
Engaging gaily in Societe.
Levi’s slim fit - my favourite by far,
Red miniskirt to storm a local bar,
Sleek diva dress as karaoke star,
Extra large sweatpants, running chores by car.
Stylish business suit for formal dinner,
A little black dress, my boss’ head spinner,
Bikini thongs as hot summer sinner,
Levi’s slim fit still my all time winner!
My closet caters to the latest trend,
Adjusting to occasions I attend.
I love all walks of vogue but in the end,
Levi’s slim fit - my easygoing friend!
Wide range of footwear I wouldn’t omit,
But shoe department in one poem won’t fit.
(The arsenal of bags, a dazzling hit,
So is the lingerie, I must admit).
But if a pair of shoes I ought to pick,
Without moment’s hesitation real quick -
I would grab cowgirl boots, sexy and slick,
Vibing with my Levi’s through thin and thick!
I watch my verdant eyes envious as the botanicals blossom in a sandstone sunrise glow,
I am a forlorn figure wandering in my fog of fears,
I cannot omit my icy turbulent tears,
Our short saga of passion much like the snow keeps me on the slippery slopes of sorrow,
Unlike the spring my heart is wary of healing,
I have tried to evolve like my kin as their colours modify with the sky,
But my reckless resilience sits saturated in puddles of pity,
I am perpetually a grey shadow lost in winter's chill,
I sometimes ask the cotton candy clouds to glimmer their cedar joy upon my perils,
Their intellectual gapes tell me I must find my internal self-love to glide with other stems again,
I know you're the perilous storm I sowed, but I desire to leave behind our wilting tale.
I wish to burn these bitter beads of pain, yet like the summer rain, I’m struggling to allow a fluorescent rainbow to shine its rays of hope.
Instead, I wallow in the equinox between light and dark,
I fill my petals with pesticides because they resemble you, I wait patiently for this period of despair to depart, as no emotion can linger eternally.
As twilight’s veil begins to gently lift,
The fading grays give way to golds and blues.
And colors mark the waves as shadows shift,
Reflective of a new horizon’s hues.
Yet gazes fixed on distant unseen springs,
Omit the moment’s splendor cast aside.
While thoughts are lost on what tomorrow brings,
The fleeting now is taken by the tide.
But wakeful are the winds that blow from night,
Just as the sun extends its arms of gold.
Embrace the gift of this day’s morning light,
For it alone escapes tomorrow’s hold.
Surrender not one moment to the clock;
And catch the coming sunrise at the dock.
Live
Live well my friend, and let no man omit your speech
This and only this will end the flow of your stream
Denying any unfold breach.
Mark well my friend, and let no second interrupt your time
This and only this will quickly send a moment to
Eclipse untold mime.
Learn good, well, my friend, bearing suppositions free
This and only this will commend
Proposal’s of no vanity.
And there will you stand strong and tall
Complete in your silent sheen
This and only this will pass on that which is seen
All is Whole.
5 pounds of ground pork shoulder
1/2 cup of ground pork shoulder skin
3/4 pounds of chicken livers cooked and chopped
1/4 cup of white whine
1 cup of pigfeet broth
3 cups of cooked rice
5 tablespoons of minced garlic
1/2 cup of minced onions
1/4 cup of celery finely chopped
1/2 cup of creamcheese
2 tablespoons of lemon zest
2 tablespoons of cayenne pepper
1 cup f red bell pepper chopped
1 seeded jalpeno pepper
1/4 chopped cilantro
2 tablespoons of salt
2 tablespoons of thyme
1&1/2 tablespoons of oregano
4 tablespoons of olive oil
sautee veggies set aside
mix with creamcheese and
and pigfeet broth and chicken livers
in mixing bowl mix
mix fat and pork
mix well and add all the seasonings
pinch a pattie and cook and taste
for adjustments.. mix with creamcheese mixture
using a grinder with sausage casing attachedment
create links
broil ,grill, boil or roast.
you can use
6 pounds of ground chicken
and
1 cup of shortening or butter
instead of pork.
just add 1/4 cup of feta cheese
and ( omit the wine)1/4 cup of lemon juice
with 3 tablespoons of extra dry gin
The back fields of the cherry blossoms I grew
I grew them years and years ago for you
The aromatherapy of the pink blossoms that omit
Will swirl, dance, and aerially lift
Finding its way to your waiting nose
Shimmering and playing - going up your clothes
Afflicted by the stunning aroma you smell
Leading you to beside the old well
Down into the well - the deep depths you peer
When all of a sudden you're held by this gripping fear
Not a noise amongst the cherry trees is heard
Silence - not an airplane, bat, or bird
Waiting until your eyes adjust to the dark
Having an eerie feeling this experience will leave a mark
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