she doesn’t know the world’s burning everything is pink her innocence intact, fiercely protected by her loving parents all parents hope as much for their children it’s why they come here promised by Liberty that the pursuit of happiness could be theirs too, once upon a time when tutus, bunny-eared hats, and Spider-Man backpacks were protected rights of passage for all
~kat
5-year-old Liam Conejo Ramos was abducted by ICE from his school in Minnesota. He was used as bait to lure his father outside where he was taken into custody. Liam and his father are now at a Texas ICE facility. His father had applied for asylum at the border, and has no criminal record according to their immigration attorney. He was doing all the right things like immigrants from centuries past have done to become a citizen.
Today’s poem is a tale of two young children. One, my great granddaughter at her first ballet lesson. The other, young Liam, whose only crime is the color of his skin and his country of origin. Both of these angels are glimmers. Both deserving of love, compassion, happiness, opportunity, safety, and respect. I pray everyday for the children. For every single one.
I know I’ve been away for a few days. I needed to take a break. My heart in broken for our nation. And I wonder, how can anyone still support the horrible leaders of this country. What scares me most is that people still do… ____________________
drowning in gaslight
I cannot look away, my senses assaulted by murders captured on cell phones blasted as evidence to the world, targeted death by hate and retribution, forced to witness souls released from battered, tear-gassed bodies…
“don’t believe your eyes”, they say, “we’re here to save you from terrorists”
from babies and five-year olds in blue bunny-ear hats and Spider-Man backpacks harboring fathers legally here, granted asylum, baby boys used as bait, for abduction to oblivion
in case you didn’t know, they now say terrorists are poets, gentle mothers, beloved partners, kind souls who sparkle…
terrorists are helpers, icu nurses serving veterans, who exercise rights once considered established by our forefathers whose last act on earth was kindness helping a woman, pushed down and tear-gassed then ripped from aiding her, and shot dead
I do not feel safer with these so-called terrorists eliminated, nor from the disappearing of children, of innocent neighbors singled out because of who someone perceives them to be…
no one is safe when evil rewrites and repeats history
we are drowning in gaslight, teargas and blood…and we must not look away
let us call out the true terrorists by name reclaiming the inheritance of the meek in kindness, compassion, love, and truth
A few bits of bread. A peace offering to my beloved crows who have avoided me for months since their comrade died near my feeder. They have accepted…May the healing begin! 💔💕❤️
forgiven . crows remember a face and are known to hold grudges for years it broke my heart when a crow died close to the feed tray filled with treats the other crows watched
and it seems held me to account as they mourned, I mourned…they stopped coming my beloved murder…held a grudge against me I feared, but they are back trust is a gift I do not take unmindfully may the healing begin
~kat
An extended pi-sequence poem (3.1415926535 8979323846) that tells a story and highlights my glimmer for today. I took a chance to reach out to my beloved crows who have shunned me like the plague all these months. I feel forgiven…not generally a thing crows do lightly. It makes me so happy on this gray day!
I wrote two poems today. They follow along the same theme. I can’t decide which one to post. And because I hate having to choose, I choose both. I am distressed by what I’m seeing from Minnesota. And the vicious added insult to injury wielded by our unhinged, vindictive government. I read that they are here in our town too. Someone recorded them, posting a warning to us on social media platforms. No one is safe.
heartbeats
a pulse detected means very different things to different people to some it’s a right to life to others, countdown to death the dearest price paid oftentimes by women, by mothers denied healthcare and autonomy to assuage fragile man-boys with power to choose which heartbeat deserves to live women, mere vessels, repositories for sperm, expendable, when too loud
(this poem follows the pattern of a trio of tankas)
——————————————————————————————-
when the worst thing isn’t
it snowed at dawn for only a few minutes no delicate flakes, just pellets of ice tap, tap, tapping on the frozen ground there’s more to the story they say the talking heads and daily scrolls horrible truth bleeding out… there was a faint heartbeat when they found her, precious time stolen by hateful thugs who let her die the tap, tap, tapping of a pure heart broken by malevolence and hate a kind voice silenced by pellets of ice
~kat
were there glimmers today? Of course…as there are every day…
I will take my snacks in high-octane liquid form thank you very much steaming espresso lattes are my newest obsession
~kat
It’s the gift I didn’t know I wanted or needed, especially since I am a morning Earl Grey tea with sweet cream kinda girl. But oh my…my oldest daughter has convinced me! “You have to have an espresso machine!” she declared, gifting one to me several days later!
All I can say is bu-bye morning Earl Grey…my caffeine boost just went turbo-espress-o-la-latte!!!! I’ll see you, Mr Grey at tea time!
This may not be what most consider to be a glimmer…but every time I glance at it, it makes me smile!
Much love, peace, and espresso latte glimmers to you!
So it is easier for you to find all the parts/chapters of my ongoing fiction series, I created a new page that lists all the links. You can check it out HERE!
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