Israel is a den of thieves
Radical Jewish Terrorists
Pushing into Al-Haram Al-Sharif
Taking Arab land
Calling it settlement when the truth
Is anything but settled–
We know the Dome of the Rock
The Temple Mount are holy
But are they
When bullets fly within?
Separate when mixed
And a rock is just a stone until we make it holy:
Housed in a mosque, hurled in a riot, one meant to kill, the other to inspire.
It is possible to be gay and Christian.
It’s also possible to believe in God and science.
It is possible to be pro-choice and anti-abortion.
It is equally possible to be a feminist and love and respect men.
It’s possible to have privilege and be discriminated against
To be poor and have a rich life
To not have a job and have money (legal good money).
It is possible to be anti guns and still believe in the right to defend one’s self, family and property.
It’s possible to be anti-war and pro-military.
It is possible to be anti-Trump and pro-America.
It is possible to love thy neighbor and despise his actions.
It is possible to advocate Black Lives Matter and pro-police.
It is possible to not have an education and be brilliant.
It is possible to be Muslim and also suffer at the hands of terrorists.
It is possible to be a non-American fighting for the American dream.
It is possible to be different and the same.
We are all walking contradictions
of what normal looks like. Let humanity and love win.
(Poetic form by Rayn Roberts / Author is ANON, but encouraging you to copy/paste/share if you want it.)
All is nothing but everything
No thing is all although
All things now are not now
Knotted not by a thread of time
Expect as made by the mind
All is weighed and worn
By gravity, wind, rain, suffering
To what end– to All or nothing?
Hey, no Holy books allowed
Your guess is as good as mine.
I’ve come to an uneasy peace running from the past
Where voices speak your name
You living ghost come out of darkness
Blinding me with joy only animals know.
I was your toy, a thing nearly real
For love ever is
But marriage is money in the big city
And a soldier’s son
Was unwelcome to a physician’s fair daughter
Lady Anne of quiet beauty, love of you nearly killed me.
Where are you, barbed eyes, sex like E
Raw love of a man
Ruin of my youth locked in my arms?
So foolishly cunt-struck was I
I’d have killed for you
Like some kill for gold or dreams
I had none, only love, pathetic love–
Nights on a sea cliff
Where the waves thundered invitations!
What a scar I might have left
But I could not in any way harm you–
As you flew out of the city
Forever away from me
I felt you sitting next to me in my car
I guess you were
Floating over me, I turned and said your name.