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I tell you the truth,  to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.'‎

Matthew 25.39

Snollygoster… Look it up!

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      And speaking of politics...

 

          Our once esteemed Vice-President – no, not the current Christian hypocrite, that scoundrel and poppycock master Mike Pence – but Joe Biden, resuscitated an out-of-use but highly useful word, malarkey, to describe the folderol, the hooey, the hogwash, the total bunkum, that are the daily, even hourly balderdash that spring, willy-nilly, from the mouth or tweets of that rapscallion whose name I cannot bear to utter but who managed to bamboozle, to horns woggle just enough of the hoi-polloi by mollycoddling their prejudices, to be elected – no, make that selected – President of the United States! Even with his well-publicized hanky-panky, those pussy grabbing shenanigans he boasted about, he was able to hoodwink the riff-raff to put him, higgledy-piggledy, into the White House.

         Since then, when not hobnobbing with the nabobs of negativism he courts, he has created, pell-mell, one flapdoodle after another, spewing poppycock, tomfoolery, hokum, and, yes, malarkey, to a claque of loving admirers, mostly ne’er-do-wells who love the hubbub, the lies, the twiddle-twaddle, the ignominy, the debasing bigotry and the endless folderol this thug, this bloody bully ballyhoos.

         In the immortal word of Scarlet O’Hara as she considered her new world, “Fiddle-dee-dee!”

Talking in Whispers

 

Soft as cotton candy

The white clouds rise

There is beauty in the sky

They whisper to me

 

Like shimmering shadows on water

The leaves rustle gently in the trees

Their music rising, falling

Be still and listen, they whisper

 

The tireless waves wash

Upon the sandy shore

Cooling my feet, calming my soul

Shhh, they whisper, wriggle your toes

 

The black snake sheds its translucent skin

In spring, revealing its shiny brilliance

Flowing like water through the fragrant grass

Whispering of rebirth and hope

 

My dog’s soft and downy cow belly

My small, bright sunlit house

My love’s warm body beside me

All, all whisper their quiet miracles

See all of Michael's Writing... Read on

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