RainJustice: "Birthers": Just Code For "Bigots." What's next, cross burnings at the Whitehouse?

From Hesse:

You brothers, who are mine,
Poor people, near and far,
Longing for every star,
Dream of relief from pain.
You, stumbling dumb
At night, as pale stars break,
Lift your thin hands for some
Hope, and suffer, and wake,
Poor muddling commonplace.
You sailors who must live
Unstarred by hopelessness,
We share a single face.
Give me my welcome back.

SHADOWS

"I had looked for achievements, success, possessions to bring light into my life. I looked to the future, to the attainment of accomplishments, as the key to my wholeness, as if it were somewhere else. As I focused on my own self interest, it left me feeling unsatisfied, misdirected, shallow. The insecurity flowing from these feelings led to blame, control, self-protection, and hostility. I often tried to anesthetize myself to these feelings, but that only served to increase my isolation, my separateness. In the darkness, I found myself longing for some ideal future, some miraculous formula to make me whole. I learned that to fully live, I needed to find light amid the darkness, that I needed to help others heal, and thus, begin to heal myself. Living in peace requires great love. I had to be willing not to turn away from, not to shun the shadows, but to turn toward them. In taking that first step, I began to cast away fears, doubts, despair. I found that darkness is not my opponent; rejection and denial of it is. When I resisted the darkness and shadows, seeking light somewhere else, I remained separate from what is from God. My shadows, which I previously counted as adversaries, became my most profound teachers."- author unknown

POISON
Liquor, crack and marijuana,
Manna for the poor.
She runs the gauntlet, Rosa,
“Funny uncles" keeping score.
She plays and plays not stopping,
Blind to the grime and the heat.
She loves; her Mama, her brother, the
Mexican palatos man’s surgery, sweet song.
Gangs and guns and drive by dangers,
The men who call to her from cars,
She runs and runs, Rosalita,
Sparrow wings beating hard.
She plays and plays and stops to pick,
A bloom of oleander from her yard.

-RainJ

RainJustice

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

"Birthers": Just Code For "Bigots." What's next, cross burnings at the Whitehouse?

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