`A Stain

 He's Reeling

under siege

driven out

I command you!

take up my cause!

My precious followers draped in red-

my patriots unite!

Take back the steal

take back the steal!

Cold stings his orange cheeks behind safety of bulletproof glass;

I'll be there with you! 

Go! Go! Go!

To the capital 

To the capital,

The crowd roars with pride! 

Yes we will go!!

Cheer on our senator loyalists!\

Some not so much!

Take Back the steal! 

Find my votes!

Now go forth! 

I will be along a little later,

locked safe away 

in a room with a tv! 

entice, entice, entice!

enable, enable, enable!

March, push, climb, 

Faint scream from a room-

Let This Day Always Remember Me!

 Four More Years! 

Four More Years!

Shot rings out!

She screams!

Body Falls!

Glass Shatters!

A Viking grasps his bullhorn,

Hot guy cheeses with the podium;

confederate flag flies.

Just a Capital coup! 

a Capital Coup!

Disbelief,  Dismay

George and Laura!

Obama's Eloquence 

Forever a stain he will 

be remembered.

Banana Republic?

Trump Power Fit?

No-

Just America 

January 6, 2020

Sitting here watching the aftermath of the storming of the Capital Building in Washington D.C. this evening. 

I am so amazed at the power Trump have over these people.  What would possess someone to storm a capital for a guy who could care less if they even exist or not? Its so disrespectful and disgraceful. 

It's a rainy day but I wish there was snow like the picture above. 

Snow delicately falling from the sky, 

falling on my face, my hand, my chin.

so much unrest in this world 

mainly everything seems so loud

so tense;

Wouldn't t be nice if it would just snow?

time would stop

the world could grow quiet 

everything peaceful 

the lackluster noise would disappear. 

oh how I wish it 

would snow

Bordem

I must admit I am bored. Extremely bored. 

It’s like you find yourself so bored you watch a rain drop slowly roll down a windshield into a crooked line pattern.

Or stare at a tree across the way and wonder how many branches? Should I begin to count  them? How many other people from the past have just sat and stared at this old tree.

My mind is a jumble. Like all of these voices shouting wanting me to write about them. So many I don’t know where or what to start.

Where is the starting point?