In my darkest dreams lie and reside,
Countless, they come from every side,
Close my shades, yet I see their windows,
They try and hide, but leave their shadows.

To turn the tide, needs but one,
Weaponless might seem alone,
Playing it through bare should be the norm,
Heed the calmness seen before the storm.

Wrath has no residence in this heart,
But loyal soldier playing his part,
The end we all meet will be the same,
But stay true to yourself in this game.

Rewards or metals at the end,
Yourself, always, was whom you tend,
We don’t wear chevrons on our arms,
And never wishing any harms.

All we wish is to kiss the sun,
Even though we might get stun,
To reach the moon and give it a hug,
From my chest my heart will feel a thug.

The reason that I love GLENN BECK, PALIN, RUSH LIMBAUGH and subscribe to Right Wing publications, on-line blogs and listen to HATE RADIO is because I sincerely believe that, like the Oklahoma bomber, they are more of a threat to America than the Taliban, and, they are much, much closer to home. In fact, they may be our neighbors, our fellow church members, especially, if you attend an Evangelical Baptist, Born Again, End Timers Christian church, as I have.

Or attended, as I have, the The T in TEA PARTY Is For Terror rallies where the NASCAR nation drinks beer BY THE CASE, parade about in HOME MADE silly costumes lugging over-sized, mispelled ill-literate hate-filled signs bordering on pschotic.

I have been writing about, preaching really, like a modern day, John The Baptist, since May of 2010, on the newsvine, to The Community about how dangerous, unstable and hate filled these people are.

I grew up around poor, white, under educated, frustrated "hill folks" and I know from first hand experience the level of thier brutality and the culture that promotes it. They will pound their bible with their closed fist until it bleeds - the same fist that they used to beat their frieghten spouse about their face, mouth, eyes, body and back with the strength of an ex-coal miner until all, all are covered in blood. The self-same fist that they reserve as their parental "rights" to discipline their children until the kids are so freighten, cowered, afraid of their shadow, terrorfied that they have no place to escape, no hope and no other recourse, or, so they believe, and, in desperation they strike out and punish those who accidental crossed their path.

Like their father before them they do not "spare the rod and spoil the child" on their off springs either, even those, especially those born out of wedlock to unmarried girls, really. They are too busy working at jobs that that are now temporary; too busy hating each other and themselves to look for a better position; drinking hard on Friday and all Saturday that they might repent on Sundays and beat their fist on "the good book" and start the cycle all over.

Compassionate Conservative Republicans under the direction of George W. Bush discovered this under represented angry, ever-growing, largely under educated, under represented electrorate and they reached out to them. George "W" personally reached out and herded them into the Republican tent. He told them about his troubles with the "demon bottle" and about how he had been "saved" and now "born again" he was one of them and they were "with him".

His father, George HW Bush, a gentleman, public servant, oil man, Vice President, Ambassador, President, and, native of Massachusetts refused to have anything to do with them. HW would not pander to them just to get votes. He thought that they were rough, explosive and he had nothing in common with the "red necks," as they called themselves, and he despised the confederate flag waving, pick up drinking, beer drinking, gun totting Rebel rousers in private. He did not trust them and they did not trust HW. He was from the North, even though he spent most of his life in Texas. He was a "damn Yankee." And that is about the lowest thing a Southern could call someone.

"W" begged his father to make the rounds with him to the tent revivals and the pentecostal churches. "Just come with me, give a little speech. They will all vote Republican - they hate Democrats and liberals," he pleaded in vain to his father, who was seeking his 2nd term as President. The father thought it unseamly. He lost the election to Bill Clinton, another Southerner, and that was seen by the son as his father's fatal strategic mistake. "W" vowed that he would not make that same mistake.

Now the Conservative Republican Party, with their confederate leadership: Lindsey Graham, Newt Gingrich, Halley Barbour, Rand Paul, Joe Williams, John A. Boehner, Mitch McConnell, among others, make no "bones" about who they hate. . . who they blame for America's decline and they share that hate every chance they get with their supporters.

Tea Party presidential hopeful, Sarah Palin is from the boondocks of Alaska and she like to use violent, provocative phrases: "blood libel," "lock and loaded," "targeting" elected officials and putting them in "cross hairs," becuase that is what a grizzly, back packing ex-governor does up there in the wilderness - that and target practice.

She embraces Fox TV Network News and its Hate For Money rhetoric of the far right and the rancor of GLENN BECK, RUSH LIMBAUGH, Mike Savage, Sean Hannity, Bill O'Reilly - wrapping herself in provocative lanuage, hate speech, violent images and gun termonolgy that she spouts for dramatic effect to catch the attention of the out of work, the psychotic, the downtrodden, the under educated and irreversible angry crowds searching for someone, anyone to blame for their weary condition.

Their DNA is tainted with VIOLENCE and they walk among us! They are dangerous and they have been poked and prodded by the Merchants of Hate for fun and profit and they are drooling for the opportunity to get even.

Do not be so naive, my brethern, to think that this was anything put a hate crime. The vat is boiling over and pressure will be release again until we turn the fire off, not down, and, SILENCE the SHRILLING OF THE PROPHETS OF HATE!

Anyone who is a Monty Python fan knows about the shoe and the gourd. In the movie, 'The Life of Brian', Brian is thought to be the Messiah and gains a bunch of followers who think he dies when he falls into a hole. They find a sandal and a water gourd and these two objects become the symbols for the mass. One side holds up the shoe and says "follow the shoe", the other side holds up the gourd and says "no, follow the gourd". Of course there is disagreement and chaos soon takes over and this is where we are today, following the shoe, the gourd, the teacup, the donkey or the elephant.

I have no problem with people being mad at the government, hell you ain't seen mad till you see me rant and rave. Try dealing with all the Federal, state and local issues that a farmer has to deal with, water, property rights, land use, suburban sprawl, illegal hunters, weather damage and insurance, the damn list would go on for a page and a half if I sat and wrote everything out...........

The problem for me is that symbols are taking over for substance and people are getting excited and angry over the crust of the pie and not the filling. We cannot eat crust alone, to paraphrase an old saying.

The other issue I want to bring up is how some think a political party MUST adhere to their personal outlook on every issue or that party sucks. That is following the shoe or the gourd in my opinion. As The Rolling Stones sing "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime, you get what you need". Truer words have never been spoken (well yes, they have but go with my flow here folks).

I am a member of the Democratic Party, many know this but let me just say it again. Do I love everything that happens, every member of that party or every politician from every other state that is also a democrat? HELL NO I don't. Some of them hold up a different shoe than I wear. Do I always vote party, I have in the past, Nixon made me do it and Reagan and Bush jr made me do it. Have I voted party lately, HELL NO!

Do I want that party to do more things that I would agree with? What do you think, HELL yeah! But wishing ain't working out that well here.

I have met many fine members of the opposing team. They are as mad or madder than me on issues but we talk and do not push our shoe or gourd into each others face.

We are seeing the rise of a third movement and there is much singing about taking the country back and all the other little cute sing song shoes and gourds that pop up in debate. The song is not new, the song has visited us before. The song of the third party is historical in nature in America. I am not afraid of this song, I have heard it all my life really. What I dislike about the song is that it loses a real attitude for change when it just becomes a song of symbolic passion. I don't want to see the underside of your shoe or the rot on the gourd. If you cannot clean up the message then you are just an angry mob. Some in my party are like this, some in the other party are too. HELL, we are all angry, who isn't a lot of the times when dealing with laws, and regulation and other stuff.

One side does not own anger and the right way because one side doesn't balance, it teeters without the balance of the otherside. if you don't like the shoe that your fellow members hold up then speak about it, don't just vote at the polls every election. Speak everyday to your Representatives.

But Dog, they ignore our voices. Well, I say you are not speaking enough to them. Even if you sent one letter by snail mail every month you would at least know in your heart that you have spoken. If each voter did that it becomes a louder voice. A deluge of letters every damn month is a strong voice of the people use it and stop throwing shoes and gourds at each other. What is this a Monty Python skit?

Now, I am just about done here, one more thing, GET the HELL out there and VOTE!

Now, at last, a question that really isn't looking for an answer but I am damn sure someone will try to answer it "are you holding up a shoe when you argue with the other side, a gourd, a teacup, a donkey, an elephant, a red flag, a bit of rhetoric, a picture or a romantic dream?"

On 911 I was getting dressed for work and had the TV on as background noise. I walked out of the bathroom tying my tie and saw the World Trade Center smoking like a bad forest fire. I turned the TV up to see what the hell happened. I knew in the back of my mind that this didn't look like an accident but that didn't surface because the next instant I saw the other plane.

I immediately called the school I worked for, I asked the secretary if anyone had been watching TV and seen what had taken place. " Yes" she said. I asked if they were going to cancel school because it was in the middle of the city of Pittsburgh PA and I knew panic would be the first reaction of many. She said"No, school would still be open". I was pissed, how simple minded, I wanted to say something but I knew she was not the problem. I said"see you soon" and hung up.

How did I feel, scared, no, I felt anger. I waited for the bus, got on and saw all the people and their faces, everyone on board knew what had happened. I went to the back where I always sit and sat down. Two guys were in the back and were complaining loudly that this would mean a draft would be the next move of our government and they would be drafting the poor and blacks to do the dirty work. I was incensed more than learning that the school would still be open. I wanted to tell them they were doing the terrorists job for them "you idiots", but I held my tongue and looked out the window.

I got to town and say what I suspected would happen, panic, fear, tears, rage and everyone was walking quickly and looking in the sky as they moved to where they were going.

I got to the school and could see the students streaming out of the door, one of my students saw me and said "Mr. A, school is cancelled, what are you doing here?" I let that go and started to get the kids moving to there cars and bus stops. I kept calm and told them to get home and I would see them next class. I soon got the crowd dispersed. I was pissed that no one in the school had decided to even have a presence at the front door.

After the crowd of students left I went towards my bus stop and ran into a few students that were coming in for later classes. I stopped and talked to each one and let them know to go right home. I hugged many who were crying and upset, calmed them and saw them on their way. I was angry but I kept it well hidden for their and my benefit.

I waited two hours for a bus that would stop, the ones I saw that would take me home were packed to the gills. I started walking towards the bridge that would take me home 5 miles away.

I walked and tried to thumb a ride, no one would stop to offer one, I was angier than ever now. I was a mile from home when my feet started to give out, my work shoes were not made for that amount of travel. I was hot, tired and mad as hell. I had seen what I knew would happen and I should not have been mad but "you know how it is"! I saw a small bar that was open and went in to get a drink and to sit and rest. The only one in there was the bartender who was watching the TV. I ordered the coldest beer he could find and sat and watched with him, we exchanged few words, mostly me or him asking about another drink. We didn't need to talk about anything, we sat and stayed inside our own heads.

I was drinking and thinking. I thought about my reaction to everything, I counted my emotions and looked at each one. The one I still didn't have was fear. I had anger, sadness, grief and was unsure of myself and other people. I felt lighter than air and heavier than a boulder. And I was getting tipsy. I paid for my drinks and left a big tip, he didn't want it but I turned and walked out the door, I had paid him for leaving me alone. Time for home.

As I walked the last mile, I thought of terrorism and the history of terror and violence. I lived it everyday growing up in the neighborhood that was my home for 15 years. I did not like being back there in my mind and I knew that as I walked, the terrorists had grabbed hold of me and I had to shake that hold or I would lose it emotionally.

I have never gotton afraid or fear these monsters. Where I grew up fear could kill you. They know this, this is the first lesson of terror.

Am I still holding anger, yep, but mostly that is for those who now use the fear of the terrorists to implant fear in us.

The greatest and strongest weapon is fear and intimidation. Stand up and make it weak! Do not give them the strength of purpose they seek.

Fearmongers I detest you. No matter were you stand or what you believe, if you use fear and intimidation you are a terrorist. Your tactics to weaken opposition is the same tactic of terrorism.

To all here and in America do not let these terrorists or fear mongers control your lives or our countries leaders.

Do not use there only real weapon against your fellow Americans, they win and we all end up letting Bin Laden win.

Peace of mind for all of us and good will towards your fellow countrymen, even when you disagree, will defeat monsters in the end.

Originally published in August 2009, re-published here in part, copyright. Maddad

Part One:

http://maddad0467.newsvine.com/_news/2010/06/12/4501645-a-story-of-abuse-part-one

Part Two:

http://maddad0467.newsvine.com/_news/2010/06/19/4527420-a-story-of-abuse-part-two

Part Three:

http://maddad0467.newsvine.com/_news/2010/06/30/4590866-a-story-of-abuse-part-three

Part Four

It was late in the afternoon, there were pay phones around, but who the hell was he going to call? His mother's second husband had molested him from the age of 5 through around 8. He had told his mom several times and she insisted he was a liar and trouble maker. Who the hell would believe him, he thought. As he walked along he saw an overpass, under it were a couple kids that did not look much older than him. Maybe they would have a better idea about things. He walked up and again, as certain as he could be of himself said, "hi, what's goin' on?". Fortunately these kids were in the same or similar situation. They talked awhile, careful not to actually talk about the more horrible things they faced. "Need a place, man?" one of them asked. "Yes" the boy said, I think I would like to take a break for a couple days. Been traveling awhile." The first, of many lies he told and never knew why. They told him to follow them as they took him down farther into the overpass structure. A small camp was tucked away like a rat hole in a mansion, but it looked safe and the boy was tired.

That night sleep never really came, but rest was there. As he laid on the cold concrete, the thoughts of the previous night would not leave. His anger and rage were swelling inside him like a bomb. "I will get that bastard" he said to himself. But right now, survival and figuring out what to do next were of greater importance. These new "friends" seemed to be o.k., maybe they will show him the way.

The next morning brought the sounds of cars by the hundreds passing above his head. A new day. A new adventure. Food would be the first order of business. Wonder if McKie D's takes promissory notes?

The sun was shining, the boy's new friends seemed to have some routine to there moves, so he followed.

The first stop was the Denny's out by the highway, between two huge palm trees sat a metal box, not quite big enough to be a dumpster, but the smell was the same. Two of the kid's in the group swung the side doors open and began digging around. Out they came with bread, sausage patties and potatoes. None of it looked very appealing, but the boy couldn't remember the last real meal he had eaten, so something has to better than nothing. "Not bad", he said to the others..."nope and the price it right" answered the oldest looking of the group. "Don't waste it...that's all that was on top, the stuff underneath it's any good". After eating what they could, the group headed down toward the beach.

Maddad

I took a step back, inhaled a huge breath of nasty, smoggy, L.A. air, and a wind of sorts blew the fuse out. Don't get me wrong, I am still upset, but I am no longer of quitting. Quitting what? Trying, trying, to be decent and kind and living my life the way I do. Damn it I am trying, trying very hard not lose it and be that individual that everyone is scared off when he get truly angry, but there are those days that really push me to the limit. Forget about what got be in a bad mood, all week-end to be exact, but this whole day has been pilling a mountain of crap on top of me and I was ready to throw it back. I almost ran over a black kid about 13 or 14 years old because he was crossing the crosswalk while I was waiting for the turn-left arrow, there was a big rig to my right so my line of vision was small. As the arrow turned green I pushed the gas pedal and almost instantly slammed on the breaks as he started running into my line of vision. It was so close that he actually got scared, I know he did, because he froze for a split second. Instead of making an apologetic wave, or a sorry mouthed out of his lips, he raised his shin and strolled the rest of the way across the crosswalk. Seriously, for a second there I almost got out of my car. At that moment I thought of not trying anymore, not trying anything, just give up on everything ans everyone.

Then at the grocery shop, I was walking around getting a few things and trying not to think about a thing, and trying to get around idiot shoppers who seem to think that they can just leave their carts in the middle of the aisle or just block everyone's way, when I just let it go. To be honest, I thought of something at that moment, but I can't remember what that was. I just know that the cashier seen my grouchy-assed face and telling me have a great evening made me return the salute.

There are some days that really are trying and then there are those that I can't seem to frown, but one thing is for sure, no matter how the day is going there is no reason to be unkind, maybe that is why when I am the most upset I let people go in front of me, I give a few dollars to that elderly couple in front of the gas station, I try my best to make myself, hell I don't know why!

There are friends and then there are those who stand on completely different level. I have three such friends that take me as i am, an arrogant, loud, cry-baby, strong, stubborn, moody, etc., and I truly do not understand why they are so willing to put up with the negative side of my personality. Sure i might have some good qualities, but sometimes even I can't stand myself, so I stay away from everyone. These three friends have been really great in this time that i was out of work, had no money, was pissed of half the time, and was well just an irritable person to be around.

Jim, many know who he is, he helped me with well talking and calming me down, taking me to places I never expected to be, he loan me money for the rent and to have a few bucks in my pocket. i have learn a whole bunch about myself with the conversations we have. He has allowed me to stand back, escape my life even if for a few hours or days, to collect my thoughts.

I have spoken about my house mate from time to time, Yvonne, has been a great friend. She is the kind of woman whom would do almost anything for someone she calls a friend or family. She has been so good in just leaving me alone to figure out what to do with my life, never has she asked me where I go or stay when i don't go home for days, and when i was having the financial problems, she was really great in well dealing with my lateness of the rent.

The last one is Alex, whom has always contacted me at the very appropriate times it would seem. If at any time i was upset or angry or in a sad, emotional mood, he always seem to know the exact time when to text me a joke, ask how i was doing, just say hello and keeping me a bit calm. He would just sit and listen or rather read all the crap I was talking, or rather all the anger I was exhibiting.

All three are held in the some part of my heart that no one goes into, not even myself, it is that protected. How to return the, for lack of a better word, favor is unknown to me. Actually, I think to them it is not necessary, which makes them even more kind. It seems that in my life, even though I do not believe in god, I can safely say that I have "seen the face of god," a few times.

Forget all the material help they gave me, their kindness helped my state of mind in a huge way. Unlike Tevye, I can bend without breaking, but I would be a very unhappy pretzel.

From deep within is the rumble,
Thinking off letting it out, great gamble,
Molten steel coursing through every orifice,
But just to act is not suffice.

Slumbered over, thinking, contemplating, preparing,
To rise from is too exhausting, forgo repairing,
To walk along without release is a perilous,
The release danger is incredulous.

Furious dilemmas makes the mind slip,
To places from which there is no scape trip,
Fearlessness in this state is unwanted,
To ease the heart and soul, should it be recanted.

Rage filling all the crevices off my inner being,
Control overpowers, rage retreats tearing,
For another time it tells itself as it starts to slumber,
Its last thoughts, "next time you will feel my thunder."

We all get riled up by behaviour which we regard as unacceptable, but what is really driving you nuts just now? What makes you want to rush for a baseball bat to wield it madly?

Excluded subjects: politicians, Iraq, Bin Laden, terrorism and anything which is too predictable that we have had too much of already. I am looking for little gems that are lurking just below the surface of your consciousness, ready to explode, given the opportunity.

How about bad manners, discourtesy, being short changed, being ignored, fools you can't suffer gladly, bad writing... that sort of thing. Let's all have a good old moan and whinge today and get it off our chest.

Mine is disrespect and discourtesy. A long time ago in my childhood, there was a simple slogan upon billboards throughout Jamaica: Courtesy costs nothing. Give generously." It has been the cornerstone of my life ever since so I do get riled up easily at boorish people who simply aim to please themselves.

But what about yours? Let it all hang out..:o)

When I look at the world, I try to see the best in people. I look for positive characteristics, regardless of any pre-determined information, I give everyone a chance to either make or break themselves with me.

I joined the vine, because I was instantly part of a community, even with the clicks, I felt as though I was part of something bigger than myself and the people here care. Newsvine cares, I don't know what has happened over the past few months, but my view is changing and I am very frustrated by the actions of others, the degrading, berating, the belittling, the name calling, the abusiveness, the ragging on the vine and its staff, its embarrassing and infuriating at best.

The past few months here have been unlike anything I have ever experienced, I have never felt so overwhelmed with an issue that was outside of my control and while the Newsvine staff did their best, it is not their responsibly to take care of me, I am not their child. What I find frustrating is why they even have to get involved to begin with, after numerous attempts to make it clear why I am here, I still have issues with Trolls and other idiots that my male counterparts do not experience.

So, I ask you, what is wrong with people? I mean what right do they have to take things to the extreme? Why do people feel that their anonymity allows them to be callous and crude, unthinking and unfeeling?

Yesterday, I had an issue with a new member and I had more than a few friends come to my rescue, but mostly Rob Ballew, Eddie French, Scott Butki and Division by Zero and for that I will forever be thankful, because for the first time in a few months I didn't feel like I was dealing with issues alone. No one truly understands the depth of the issue, my explaining never really gave a full picture of what has been going on, but it has me at a breaking point.

First off, I have never been a whiner, I am very capable of taking care of myself, I have taken alot without ever saying a word. Many of my friends know a fraction of what I have endured and I appreciate their support, but the issue is why should I have even had to endure it? It is insanity to me that people do not know boundaries; they do not know the difference between reality and fantasy.

I am anything but a prude, I like to joke and flirt and give as much crap as I am given, but at times I don't know if people realize they have taken things too far. Most of my friends know me, most of the "big" people here know me and I try to be a good Newsvine citizen, I love this place more than anywhere I have ever been and at times over the past few months I have felt like just shutting my sight down completely.

I have received a large number of emails and comments here on my threads discussing me, my life, my sex life, love, etc. I can forward every thing to the Vine, but at what point will they tire of me? I know that my writing is open, it is personal, I have been asked to change it, but is the only reason I write, so if I have to change that then there is no point in me being here. I do not know what the resolution is; I guess I just wish people could see me for who I am a writer, a mother, and a person.

Sometimes I feel such sorrow,
that it overwhelms my heart.
Because soon you'll be gone, I know
that forever on earth we'll part.

We've been together over 30 years,
but our relationship is strained.
I still hold you very dear,
even tho' at times I feel I'm chained.

On your "good" days your attitude
is anything but loving or kind.
You're so cocky, mean and rude,
that I could go out of my mind.

But it is on your "bad" days,
when you are so ill,
that I see the error of my ways,
and know part of me loves you still.

Copyright ©2006 Rose Mary West Ekerholm AKA Plethora