A series of essays....
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| NATURE'S GENTLE TEARDROPS NURTURE AND CULTIVATE OUR CROPS, FLOWERS, AND SPIRITS |
....as seen through my eyes!
By: Jacqueline E Hughes
A very wise woman once told a group of her poetry students that by revealing their deepest and darkest emotions via their work and calling them Rant Poems was good for the mind and the soul and should be executed at least once a month or whenever the situation requires it. I will admit that I’ve taken this sage advice to heart many times while writing my weekly essays for Moving On...2019.
Living in a ‘Drumpfster’ world has only elevated the appeal for ranting away at the injustices, hateful strategies, and deadly effects that his desire for obtaining more and more money has had on the entire world! Plastering a name on as many gross and expensive monuments as possible could never create the legacy he is hoping for. Ultimately, his ugliness and hate will go down in the history books and the harmony and love of those he wronged will overshadow his evil.
Our personal frustration of not being able to instantly purge the furious emotional state we have all been placed in is greatly enhanced by at least two to three (or more) inhumane atrocities he throws out into the ethos each day. Bending our spirit, twisting precious customs, and abusing the attitude and culture of the moral elements of decency most of us live by, we find ourselves ranting at one another trying to figure out why all of this is happening while creating unnecessary chaos and stress.
I often wonder about the legacy he is leaving for his own grandchildren. Will all of the money in the world protect them from global warming and the imminent path to destruction of our Mother Earth? Nobody can live in a sterile bubble for very long without the breathe of contamination seeping into the cracks and destroying their tiny world.
But, it is the uncontrolled, blatant, and just plain ugly acts of pure hate and lack of concern towards mankind that blows me away...! We, our nation’s citizens, pay for the protection of this horrible man and his family as he not only fails to protect the people he should be serving, but goes out of his way to harm our environment, strike down our hard-earned benefits, and not think twice about separating families, locking-up children, or creating the cause that has brutally murdered our own allies and handed the Kurdish people over to sworn enemies in the hopes of their own survival.
With skin tone and profit margins being his ultimate guidelines towards the approval or disapproval of human life, he has single-handedly awoken and empowered white supremacy and forced our journey, our progressive movement, backwards in time. Supporting our right to vote him out in 2020 helps to pacify me, but not as much as the possibility of impeachment with a vote to withdraw his presence from office due to his insane, harmful, and destructive judgments while serving in the White House.
I will continue to rant and rave about the injustice and pain so many people must endure because of his callousness, ‘strategy of total defiance,’ and inability to love anyone but himself.
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| REPRESENTATIVE ELIJAH CUMMINGS |
Courtesy of the Associated Press
This morning we woke-up hearing about the sad and untimely death of Rep. Elijah Cummings of Maryland at age 68. As chairman of the Oversight Committee, his hard work included overseeing investigations ranging from the impeachment inquiry, treatment of migrants at the southern border to the historical grilling of Michael Cohen earlier this year. Tears well in my eyes as I think about the amazing and loving life of this beautiful man. He will be missed, honored, and esteemed forever. Yet another huge loss for democracy and mankind in general.
The poem, The Teardrop, written in late 2018, helps me to cope with the new world that surrounds me as I age, navigate through major changes in my life, and engage in current political fiascoes. My poetic mentor would understand my softer approach to ‘ranting’ and, hopefully, give her approval.
THE TEARDROP
by: Jacqueline E Hughes
The tear slides
down the soft folds
of aging skin and follows
the curve of chin
until, defying gravity, it
dangles there for a moment. Falling,
falling, falling it drops,
plunging through time and space, filling the
gap between pain and sorrow;
offering little hope
for its creator. It pops
like a tiny bullet and
explodes in a fury of blue ink
on white paper. Blending,
blending, blending, its
singular journey obliterating a
heartless good-bye.
Copyright © 2019 by Jacqueline E Hughes
All rights reserved
Photo Copyright © 2019 by Jacqueline E Hughes
All rights reserved
