Posted in Uncategorized

Third Time is the Charm!

img_20151125_150329_422

 

Stay positive-keep looking UP!
I hope everyone is well out there.
This post is straight to the point.

This is my third time trying to post this text. For some reason, it hasn’t been showing. ??? WordPress must be revising or I have pre-election distraction disorder. Here we go again. One more time.

We’ve been inundated for months with the most vile words I ever remember hearing in my 63 years on the planet. These horrifying words such as “round ’em up. Get ’em outta here! Punch ’em in the face. Grab ’em by the pussy,” were said by a political candidate: Donald J. Trump. No matter what your politics are- GOP conservative, independent, Democrat, or Green Party, I really hope you have it in you to get out and vote tomorrow. If you’ve already voted, congratulations.

I am a Bernie Sanders supporter and an environmentalist who voted Clinton this time because I am NOT going to risk voting my conscience. BERNIE said this is not the time to vote third-party. I agree. The 2% is not enough. While I understand my brothers and sisters who are Green Party, I am not convinced that voting third-party will accomplish anything this time around. We have to STOP the distracted focusing on a classic, egomaniacal tyrant. Money, and the illusion of it, is NOT real power.

People didn’t take Hitler seriously back in the 30’s when he slowly rose to power. But the insanity of one man’s maniacal lust for power is legendary and more than terrifying. We all know the story. Now this kind of insane disregard for everything that is sacred in the Constitution of the United States of America, is being threatened in a similar way by the thinking and propaganda of such men as Hitler, Mussolini, Pol Pot, and Mao Zedong, who were tyrants. Trump’s father allegedly was a Nazi and supposedly in the KKK. If that is who you want to be, that’s between you and your maker. He does NOT represent me or anyone in my immediate family.

I think most people who are voting have already made up their minds. But if there is anyone out there who hasn’t decided, the New York Times took out a two page ad citing all Trump’s insults. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want a person charged with sexual assault, nonpayment of his employees, and 4000 pending lawsuits, to be elected to ANY office in the U. S. WHY DOES HE NOT HAVE TO PAY TAXES?

As women, we been beaten, jailed, threatened, and divorced for earning the right to vote. We still don’t make equal pay in the workplace. The ERA was never passed. An amendment was added, but the ERA itself was not legislated.

The GOP candidate this year is everything you teach your children NOT to be; he’s a bully with no morals, he uses foul language. He insults anyone who doesn’t agree with him, and he verbally threatened EACH one of his opponents. Would he be allowed to sit in a third grade classroom? NO! I believe he will be charged with sexual assault. PLEASE do not support this man.

Please don’t vote Trump. He doesn’t care about anyone. Do the math. Do the research.

Here’s to the vision of voting in Hillary Clinton for president. She supports children and families. That is how she started her career. She has earned her way, every step of the way, and while I doubt her connection to evil poisoning corporate giant, Monsanto, I still support her. We can work with her, hopefully, to ban FRACKING and GMO’s which are not tolerated in other countries.

Vote Clinton, then we can FLIP the HOUSE and get back in the groove with Sanders. He represents my values. I’m proud to be supporting Hillary Clinton because I know we can work with her as our president.

Please don’t vote for the madman.

love and peace,
Susan E. Rowland

 

Posted in social commentary, Uncategorized

America’s Weapons Crisis

Don’t tell me about

boom or epic

or at the end of the day

or stunning

kick-ass bad ass or other adolescent mainstream phrases

Right?

Or trending

or viral.

The peppered words

said over and over

are useless

as a toxic landfill.

For some reason

change is slow

because protocol and insanity

have access to weapons.

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized

What Rhymes with Rump?

I dumped my tirade about
a man without data
who castigates another
while lying and calling him
brother,
because anyone can see
that a bully is a bully is a bully
Times are just too tough
to add to the garbage,
it’s enough.
If it stinks,
it probably is
ripe enough
to be composted.
Maybe the DSM can manage
a profile
for grandiosity combined with vile.
But the day is just too lovely
to sour with an image of manly greed,
instead we gather the good people
and circle with sacredness
the hands of the righteous in thought and deed.
Triumph
over the monster
with fact and dignity,
we lack not the courage
to brighten the dull fear of your insanity.

Posted in friends, Gratitude, Uncategorized

Hierarchy Part 2

 

the stairs in japan

 

The husband looks up from his newspaper and says
“maybe those old friendships just weren’t that strong to begin with.”

Sundays are always the hardest afternoons. Memories of family dinners, picnics and phone conversations with loved ones. The ones who wanted to look for benefits,  opportunities, for fresh gossip, new customers and clients-it’s always agenda first-what did you expect? Remember how it all started?

I told you from beginning I don’t chase after people. I chase after mountains and canopied sequoia in my heart center. The children called and that’s what matters. Somebody called with a  voice,  real voices. Not an email, a text or a form letter once a year at Christmas.

I thumb through my old fashioned hand written address book and have to sigh over the names of those who crossed over or who moved on. It’s held together with duct tape. Time for a separation ceremony.

Look alive, my soul! You already  know the score. There is none. All is contained within the Tao.

 

Really,  take another look says the voice of the Higher Self.

Sometimes I climb those stairs by myself
as if in some foreign place,
yet, the place is not strange at all.

I have been alone before.

Other lifetimes
different clothing.
Shed the outworn threadbare with a prayer
wrapping up
in a shawl for my shoulders.

I climb the stairs by myself.

I must try.

Posted in Uncategorized

Wondering on the 4th

childs face

In a wash of 4th of July patriotism, I’m still wondering how people can boycott children fleeing poverty and warfare. Regardless of political ideation, one has to be reminded that those who would protest the feeding and care of any group of children, must themselves be the most evil and selfish souls on earth. Add a little extra to the collection plate on Sunday my fellow citizens. It won’t get you any closer to heaven. Plump the pillows, feather your nest. Sleep soundly now, for the ghosts of your own parasitic conscience will surely rattle their chains at breakfast.

To write safely is not to write at all.

1340028604662

Posted in Uncategorized

Confessions of an Adverb Addict

Blog challenge: go to a public place and listen to conversations. Write about it without using adverbs.

An adverb is “a word or phrase that modifies an adjective, verb, or other adverb or a word group, expressing a relation of place, time, circumstance (are you kidding?), manner, cause, degree, etc (e.g. gently, quite, then, there).”

My name is Sue and I’m an adverb addict. I’ m unable to write without using adverbs. I was going to say it’s been five minutes since I last used. But “since” is an adverb. HELP! The prompt confirmed why I detest grammar. I’m switching to art.

Our conversation is quick.

“Is that all you need today? Just the paint?”

“Yep. And this piece of caramel. You guys are tempting people.
That’s not fair! The doc says I don’t need sugar.”

The clerk laughs
.
“Do you have a rewards card?”

I give my phone number.

“Well, have fun painting. Sure I can’t interest you in another piece of candy.” More laughter.

“No, thanks. I’m wearing it on my arms. Stay cool. ”

I haul the paint cans out to the car. The weight of the handles digs into my palms.

The temperature is 104 in the shade.

That’s all she wrote.

Posted in Uncategorized

Monday, June 9th Blog Challenge: A Place You Love: Sanibel Before the Takeover

Blog challenge. I think it was to write about the one place you’d love to return to as a favorite. I’m not a big traveler right now in my life, but the one place I would go is Sanibel Island, Florida.

anhinga                                                               original art
Sanibel Island Before the Takeover

Dad keeps the Corolla just at the speed limit on the causeway and we turn onto the sleepy two-lane island road. My mother smokes another cigarette. Even she looks a bit happier. I am 11 years old. Florida!

The bay separates Fort Meyers from the lighthouse side of the island. I count the bumps in the road and roll the window all the way down and put my face in the wind. Sanibel is a place to relax, a gem that hasn’t been destroyed by the greed monster of growth…the year is 1964.

We pass the one of two gas stations on the island and savor the salty air. There’s a book store, a market, the real estate bungalows, a pink cottage motel, a yellow cottage motel, and the entrance to the campground. An Italian restaurant, a seafood shack, the Community Center.  The Pirate Playhouse is painted brightly, and the parking lot is marked with thick shipping ropes. I’m drawn to the Playhouse.

 Soon we are on the Gulf side of the island and at the rental.

The island!  Life is an adventure here.  Everything tropical and exotic, is Sanibel. Long, long stretches of beaches. A retired admiral. People who water ski. Nature conservationists. Local kids with worn deck shoes are off-putting because we’re tourists. But they’re curious, and after a while, friendly.

 Saw palmettos and pelicans. Seafood. Salty coquinas. Sea urchins. Angelwing shells, periwinkles, and conches. Crab. Bass. Key lime pie with frothy meringue topping. Oranges. Spawning turtles. Lights out when the turtles are spawning. They creep across the sand towards the Gulf and the people protect them. Alligators in the bayous. Dripping moss and banyan trees. Cormorants.

 Sanibel is the third largest shelling beach in the world says my father. Palm trees drop their fronds. Coconuts thump to the ground without warning.  Stories of women held captive on Captiva Island to the north make me queasy. Seminole legends whisper at the swamp edges as alligator eyes lower into the brackish water.

 I rush out to the water’s edge just to see an ebony fin dip into the water. Seagulls cry over head, the balmy air kisses my toes, my hands, my shoulders. I shout to mom as she unpacks, not really asking if I can go…but trotting away before she can say no. I know she’ll let me with the usual warnings.

I set out along the shoreline, free to trudge for miles until I catch a glimpse of the old riverboat back in on land past Bowman’s Beach. It’s fenced in and has a guard. I creep toward it anyway, pretending I can’t be seen by the figure who patrols the property.

                                         ***********************************

                                                        16 on Sanibel

Sue with Turtle color photo