Tag: Talkinggrid

I got up this morning and the first thing I thought of was Talkinggrid.  I leapt out of bed and onto to my computer.  I hit the keys and before I knew it,

BAM!

I wanna thank Joe Rez, our Rock n’ Roll Music Specialist for sparking renewed interest in publishing, reading and writing Talkinggrid.

Oh! By the way, I promised you a poem.

Here it is:

Yesterday’s Poem

Eye see the day when we awake.
Shake off tarnished yesterdays and
Dance in the fountain of forgotten youth.

Ponce de Leon liked it just fine in Florida.

Until the crocodiles came and ate his fifteen minutes

He was left to legend and the late night healers
“Splash!” says the serpent girl, curled on the banks
Of the Henry Hudson River, with a view of the
George Washington Bridge, at sunrise.
She’s not voting. Mermaids don’t vote.
They float over and under the words of Hope
Promises sway Neptune’s trident in Shakespeare’s Tempest.
The world has become a parody of itself.
Yates said, “the center can not hold,” since
the lamest claiming “Supremacy,” and
The Orange Orangutan parading his Illegal Immigrant Bride.

On that Happy Note, I wanna continue.  Allow me to share with you,

Top Fifteen Things To Thank #DrabTrap 2016 For Now! 

1.  D.T. helped me to instantly shed a lifetime of feeling weird, outrageous, and “flamboyant,” in my big floppy hats and striped beach cardigans.  Suddenly, I feel so normal, stable, and emotionally secure compared to the big Orange Turd.  I am a magnificent garden of peace in comparison to the manic monstrosity of amped up blond Ape machismo that the perverse one embodies.
2. D.T. and his Immigrant Bride, how ironic! She inadvertently, but never-te he-less shined a spotlight on how amazing the first lady, Michelle Obama is.
3. Allow me to see that my petty self-promotion is precisely that.
4. You remind me to appreciate that I speak English and Spanish well.  Thereby reflecting an American ideal.  We see that speaking Spanish well is a plus on the campaign trail.  Bilingual people are more likely to vote than… not?  What am I saying?  I don’t know.  I’d like to thank DT for making me think about my multi-ethnic heritage and face it, in a white supremacist world, I’m not welcome.
5. I appreciate, more than ever, those of us, incapable of erecting gold towers and sitting naked on virtual reality thrones made of tweets and clicks are not slow, most were taught not to toot their own horns. In other words, D.T. has devoted his life to bragging about assets that may be a mirage the size of Texas, for all we know.  Debt, being one of his best friends.
6. Everyday, I become more American.  I’ve never before found the political situation worthy of my art focused, entirely self contained, and mostly maternal attention.  Suddenly, for the first time, I really care… oh wait… this is not true.  I cared before.  Obama.  Remember?  Hope.  Yeah… those were the days.
7. It becomes obvious that we have freedoms, rights, and ground gained to lose.  We refuse with a BIG THANK YOU, to anyone that suggests that we are not invested and devoted to supporting life, love, and liberty to thrive within the existing political structure of American democracy.
8. Allow us to see clearly how important it is for all to become politically aware and active, making it clear that WE stand together in LOVE and refuse to be bullied by liars we intend to manipulate public opinion.  We, Americans, that vote are not interested in politicians who want to reduce our rights and civil liberties, which are currently under attack on the streets, as men and women who are not white, are with shocking regularity abused by so call, “servants,” of the Law.  We are on the road to more mutual respect, not less.
9. I’ve come to appreciate that being, “politically correct,” is a way to demonstrate caring for the sensitivities of others.  In other words, it is akin to being polite or well-mannered.  I don’t expect that everyone is suddenly going to become poised like Michelle Obama but we can try.  We can attempt to “go the high road.”  My mother, not my real mother, but the made-up mother I have inside me, always says, “take the high road.”  I’ve done that, most of my life.  However, I’ve slinked around—a bit—mostly for fun when I was an adolescent, runaway, punk-street-kid.  It was only fun in the summer.  As winter set in, fall really, I found I job.  Waitressing, no less… and the rest is…
10. DT is proof that the history of inequality, violence, flagrant, systematic, and institutional exploitation of disadvantaged groups, all  best left in the past, has the potential to repeat itself. We must take action to address the needs of those that feel so insecure as to wish to carry weapons.  What is up with that?  Yet we are here now and determined to make a difference.  Voting has never meant more.  The choice between Evil and Maintaining our multicultural, vibrant, jazzy, rich American way of life is yours.  Vote with gusto and thank Delirium Trash-Muffin for motivating you to cherish our hard-won political and social status.
11. DT reminds me how important it is to laugh at myself, my supercilious and pretentious attempts at grandeur, my New Yorker Naiveté, and my recent near death experience. Yes!  I am freakin’ hilarious!  Anyone who takes themselves too seriously is set to blow a gasket whenever the wind blows their fake hair or top rug upside down pineapple upon their orange mash potato face.  It is vital to keep laughing.
12. Speaking of laughter, I don’t really find you funny at all, Punk, you suck!  However, I’m willing to admit that I’ve never felt so smugly superior in my life.  Compared to you my manners are impeccable, my education: stellar, my personal achievement HUGE, Dude, I’m everything you are NOT.  I am real.
13. In the war between good and evil you White Nigger Gold Digger Dunce Dream Daddy Pimp Punk are not worthy of a name. Just because your wife was born and raised in a communist country and your associates love Russia and you love Russia and you birthed the birther nonsense doesn’t make you worthy of a name.  Please— slither—back under the golden turd you slithered out from under, pretty please.  Ha!  Ha!  Funny right… I know, I know… all jokes fall flat, when we consider, “The Horror!  The HORROR!”  It would mean the end of American, home of the brave, beautiful, countless cultures and endless rainbow of economic and social possibility if you, two-bit clown, became the representative of our GREAT NATION.
14. That you are promiscuous and proud to father a bigamist’s dream of offspring with various women who you use and abuse at will is obvious.  And Dude, one has to admire the audacity of you.
15. You are that which we thank god we are not.