Tantrum

A growing list of all I despise

white supremacist
racist
anti-immigrant
originated the birther movement
bigot
misogynist
hateful rhetoric
grabs 'em by the pussy
philanderer
unfaithful
cheater
arm candy
sick words about daughter
bully
mean words about exes
mocking
thin skin
illiterate
superficial
anti-expert
war-monger
distorter
destroyer
conflict of interest
bore
callous
ignorant
non-reader
garish buildings
tax evader
tanning bed face
that comb-over flop of orange hair
insisting on accolades
narcissist
liar
fake
odious
belligerent
repugnant
divisive
tweets
totally bereft of moral authority
disgrace

This is our land

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day.

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity
for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

The day is stifling hot, with oppressive humidity and very little breeze. Maybe it will be cooler in the mountains? What a delight to be in our air conditioned car, listening to our favorite music, with a few hours free to drive to our property for our ritual summer visit. A few years ago (oh my, has it been 12 years now?), Tony and I purchased four acres of land alongside a creek in the Chattahoochee mountains of Georgia. This is sweet country! Great hiking, beautiful vistas, lazy living. When our boys were young, we often rented cabins in this vicinity. Our family has enjoyed so many fabulous days walking wooded and mountainous trails, collecting rocks and sticks, splashing in streams, finding waterfalls, playing in the dirt, reading, drawing, and eating outdoors. One day (soon?) we will get our act together and build a simple cabin here, a get-away.

We travel to Georgia each summer for Tony's family reunion. Every summer we trek to our property for a bit...and our imagination runs wild with plans. We create sketches, talk about a porch overlooking the creek, wonder about trees, birds, deer, and bears. Then, turn around, we are back in the thick of life in Maryland/Washington, D.C. and these musings fizzle out, become more faint.

But, hey, Tony is retired now...maybe we will finally take some serious steps to building this cabin...let's visit again and dream.

Tony knows the way to the our land by heart, but for me, I am still at a loss for how we get there until we are racing along on this one particular two lane road that curves a little to the left and then, just at the bend, Tony slows down considerably and makes a sharp right onto the narrow dirt and gravel lane...a road that demands we drive at 10-15 miles an hour max. We drive past our "neighbors" with simple homes and cabins. I love all the pretty porches, the flowers, the stonework. I smile. We're almost there!

Oh no.

What's that? Just up there on that barn, on the right?

Tony, do you see that?
Was that there last year?
Whoa.

I don't think it was. I'm sure we would have remembered.

We continue on, quiet.

The next house has one, too.

That DEFINITELY wasn't there last year.

As does the next.

And one more...that makes FOUR!... this one is HUGE and ENORMOUS, hanging alongside an American flag.

I am clutching my seat, my feet are acting like brakes on the floor board of the passenger seat. Oh, Tony - what in the world? How can this be? I ask with alarm.

Four Confederate flags.








I try to absorb this visual assault. My mind is racing - these are our neighbors? Just as I think that I cannot breathe, cannot catch my breath, we pass by a fifth property with an enormous flag.

A rainbow flag with the word PEACE emblazoned across.







It's impossible to describe how this rainbow flag lifted me.


Hope, waving in the heat.


This is the world that Trump has unleashed. A world where meaning is reduced to bumper stickers, tweets, and flags; where everyone is certain and absolute, digging in their heels, shouting their truth, and not listening to the other. Daring one another. Opposing. Hating.

This is our land.





We stop at our property and get out of the car, walking slowly and quietly. A hawk soars overhead. Tall trees surround us. So much green all around. A smattering of lacelike white wildflowers. So many beautiful rocks. A chipmunk scurries through the underbrush. The creek glistens in the sun.


This is our land.

Sanctity of life

I am still stunned by the results of our presidential election. I simply do not understand how so many evangelicals voted for him. How does his perspective align with Christianity? Why is "right to life" only about anti-abortion? I think life-giving policies help people move out of poverty, create a brighter future for our children, confront racism, seek tolerance rather than abuse and hate, protect the environment, and support strong schools, safe neighborhoods, vibrant jobs, living wages, and good medical care. This poem comes from my mental struggle with this.

Sweet Sanctity of Life


Sweet sanctity,
Sweet sanctity,
Sweet sanctity of life.
Jesus implores us,
we will love you from the seed,
protect the unborn child,
choose life,
you have the right to life,
oh, you, precious being.

Sweet sanctity,
Sweet sanctity,
Sweet sanctity of life,
Jesus implores us.
The child is born and,
somehow,
life is no longer cherished.

Only freeloaders need universal health care,

skip the frivolous phone and buy medicine, you fool,
your poverty is due to your own poor choices;
let's stop immigrants with walls and bans,
bombs are hiding underneath that veil,
refugees are not our responsibility;
what is this Black Lives Matter crap?,
they get what they deserve,
guns in classrooms and churches will save souls;
LGBTQ, assaulting my precious child in the restroom,
I'm not selling cake to the likes of you;
nasty women in leadership,
let's grab 'em by the pussy;
buy another case of bottled water,
who cares where the plastic is disposed,
I won't be around for that.
What's this? You don't believe in Jesus?
Your life is a living hell.
You are less than me.
You are not my problem.

Sweet sanctity,
Sweet sanctity,
Sweet sanctity of life.
Jesus implores us,
we will love you from the seed
oh, you, precious child.
Look at these
voting for sanctity of life
with this man of hate,
loving you as a seed
but not in life
as you live and breathe.