Communism

 Salute, take a bow.

The Artist shall not take your orders.

My brush is my weapon, I will fight with my musical instrument of choice. I will only wear a mask for the sake of the people I paint, draw and play for. 

As for the rule of law, I will take the virus and die at the communist dinner table before I submit to their orders.

Dissect my abdomen and shove my appendix in the face of the ruler looking to mandate my God given freedom. My heart beats to fight for it. I behoove of thee tyrants and dictators to practice freedom as a right, for you have no place at my dinner table if you don’t. Such communist laws torments and destroys the soul of any nation and it’s people, for they are forced into fear, it is not chosen. They die wishing for natural feelings. Slave labor is another type of hell, it is another type of slow death that eats away at the human spirit to fight for and envy freedom. I will take the virus and die at the communist table before I submit to their rule of law.

Do you not see the colors of freedom, for I will not sit and watch my people be oppressed. I will not watch their bloodshed paint the land under forceful government rules. Those who have been oppressed fear this type of system. Their ancestors shed their blood for freedom.

I owe a debt to those people, for God alone sent me to liberate them with my brush, for my intellectual thoughts alone will build a free nation that gives anyone the will to paint and create freely. To hell with you and your mask, for I will take the virus and die at the communist table. How weak have the freedom fighters become, for victory has defeated them. 

Therefore, I will not eat at a restaurant which makes mask mandatory and does not provide one for free, I will not be in the presence of people who are colorblind and militant under the rule of law. Their supremacy is a delusion. For God himself says take timeout to loosen up but do not give in to drunkenness or you may be caught off guard by communist and tyrants looking to make you a freedom-less slave. For that, I’ll take the virus—die, meet God then resurrect to send communist and tyrants back to hell where they came from. A representative democracy is worth fighting for. I’ll take the virus and watch my sword puncture the heart of communist leaders as we die together and I alone for the will of the people as they witness my sacrifice and never forget to fight for freedom. 

A new day

 It may hurt today, I may fail or come up short...

I may even be cheated out of something I so dearly want to achieve...

I may want to give-up, I may want to be unforgiving, but who knows how I will feel tomorrow or even years from now...

Is it foolish of me to be vengeful today?

Is it foolish of me to assume what tomorrow may bring?

Forever is to know and understand that time goes on with or without me... 

I too must pass on someday...

I too get angry and impatient at times...hard work one day only to have to build again the next.

Some parts of my body don’t quite function as before...

I too have seen love turn to hate...win only to lose after.

Plans and preparations in place only to be devastated by loss...

Good days turned to bad and the woes of human nature and emotions...

Time is so precious, I feel it too...

A new day has taught me one thing: to love, appreciate, and understand that time heals all pain...

To hear a “no” and later have it turn to a “yes.”

To feel no justice only to watch my love ones grow up in the positions to be judges.

I awake in a new mood...

A different feeling, a different vibe...

The sun shines through my window...

It’s a new day...

The blood on the door story

 Some of you may know the blood on the door story and some of you may have forgotten or never heard of it at all. My mother was afraid of a disease running wild until I reminded her of a well known story. For those of you who remember, you may pass...it’s a win-win situation for you. Live or die you’ll be okay. You’ll rise. I will not tell you what the story is about but I strongly recommend you search for it. Here is a clue: It’s in a book that’s a best seller, a book that has survived kings, queens, pharisees and pharaohs. I’m not a scholar just a poor man who remembers the blood on the door story. The key is to remember, and if you’re afraid— find the story and you will understand. It will give you hope.

Cryosphere

“The ice is melting momma,” Izzy the cub said.

All of the polar bears gathered around on what ice was left.

“My god, I’ve never seen such a sight in all of my years, all of the ice is nearly gone. We have to search for a new home,” Kemet, the lead polar bear said to his celebration of polar bears, it was evident that he was frustrated because he also had been missing meals.

His daughter Teresa kindly gave him her last fish,   “If we head inland maybe the humans will help us Papa,” Teresa suggested.

All of the polar bears began to migrate inland in search for food and a new home. On their journey some were hunted and killed. This discouraged Papa bear. 

“This maybe the end for us family,” Papa bear said.

“Don’t say that Papa, we’ve come so far,” Teresa replied.

“We‘ve lost nearly half of our celebration and most of us haven’t ate in days,” Papa bear said feeling hopeless.

The other polar bears had never seen  Papa bear so down.

Izzy took his Papa’s paw, “ Don’t give up Papa,” he said. At that moment Papa bear’s heart began to beat faster, his polar bear instincts began to kick in. 

“We have no hope with the humans, they’ll kill us all. We have to head south,” he said.

On their journey it began to snow.

When Izzy saw penguins he knew everything would be okay.

“Welcome to the ice castle,” Jeffery the penguin said greeting and comforting the tired and ravaged polar bears in this rare moment for penguins and polar bears. The earth was changing forcing some animals to become neighbors and some to become friends. The time for sharing had come as penguins and polar bears sat and ate in their new cryosphere together.

Izzy took Papa bear’s paw again, “Good things happen when you don’t give up hope Papa.”

Cry

 This is usually when it happens, at night when the lights go out. The trauma, the pain and the depression. There are so many things on my to do list, so many books I haven’t read, I have to push myself, I have to let the past go and keep up with this fast pace world. Goodbye dad, goodbye mom, they’re never coming back; they never won the lottery or hit the jackpot, they worked until their bodies gave out now they’re gone. How ironic for the light on my desk to be on at a time like this. I’ll write my thoughts down until my mind is at ease. I’ll cry on paper. I’ll write about a happy ending with victory and a loving female picking me up and loading my printer with fresh paper at the end. We can share stories and cry tears of joy. That will be my happy ending.

Cry