(August 16, 2018)
Childhood poverty
stopped by staying in school
and out of them beds!
J Richards of Sanford, Florida, offers visual and written commentary, poetry and quirkery. copyright (c) 2019
(August 16, 2018)
Childhood poverty
stopped by staying in school
and out of them beds!
(August 16, 2018)
Don’t do what I say;
And, please, not what I did;
grammar, aside, ‘kay?
(August 16, 2018)
reasonably doubt
be-here for socialism
and its first triumph
*(A judge in the latest – and hoped-for not last – case of collapsing morals amongst our elected and appointed officials from the last administration told the jury Reasonable Doubt was what happened when Reason was used near Doubt. So I applied the theorem to when might I see a successful socialist state – not to mention country – on my patch of planet called The United States. And I, reasonably, doubt ever in my corporate existence such will occur. Oh, sure, take those small, homogeneously populated European countries…oh, wait, they currently are fleeing their former socialist indentures made on the backs of a capitalist world which afforded such a lifetsyle for a few shortish decades following the expansionist economy after World War II. There has been no – not one, not even close – successful all socialist state on this mudball. Ever. So I guess I shall dust up and fly away or go down the gullet of a Florida Black Bear – if I had my druthers and escape the clutches of Arlington National Cemetery-bound relatives for my depleted carcass. I’d rather feed a family of otter, even if my second- or seventh-paw.)
(August 16. 2018)
brilliant sun sweatshine
smile all the way uphill home
great to be and feel
(August 16, 2018)
one fear – my “red” heart
will be sold while still it beats
a poe movie lurks
*(At my last renewal, I found rather disquieting the hologramic representations of my visage on the new Florida plastic, and talked myself into both a Donor’s red heart and a green Veteran’s appellation on said card. Now I must wake in fear always there will be no boy charged with sewing my carcass into its canvass shroud for at-sea burial with the final stitch of the awl going through the nose – and both nostrils – to prove the intended needs interring. But morbidity and I are old pals.)