#creativemindswander

Not all middle eastern countries hate America. Do not blame the mistakes of a few without knowing the intentions and beliefs of the whole.

Why can’t taxes be used for both? There should be funds in place that are specifically for veterans and in turn not be touched by any government program.

But then again, there should be other programs in place to take care of our nation, like a fund to provide tiny houses for the homeless because there aren’t enough shelters; like raising minimum wage every year more than 3 cents, so we aren’t making the same as those in 1979; like providing free health care and free college classes; like working to build up forgotten neighborhoods instead of abandoning the area and the citizens forced to stay there due to income; like not allowing people on food stamps to stay on food stamps for years and eat better than those with salary jobs; like making the cost of living less than the annual income allowing savings to accrue and reasonable enough for the middle class families saddled with low salaries and high student loans….work on those issues at home while also helping those who were not born in a free country, those who were not given the choice if they wanted to go to school or which pair of shoes to purchase or the option of not eating, those who cannot express their true opinions or sexuality due to fear of being killed….fix these problems before you try to compare the two. Fix these cracks in the foundation before you try to demolish someone else’s character, religion, way of life, and country.

You were born in country of wealth, freedom, opportunity, and abundance yet you treat it as though it was a right instead of a privilege. Those who immigrate here come for betterment, for safety and security, for life, for happiness, for the ideals spelled out in the Declaration of Independence. They are not taking your jobs or your men/women, or your neighborhoods, or your land, or your food…you did not want these things until they chose to acquire them. They came for a better life and they worked hard because they know the struggle of truly being oppressed, fearful, and without.

This bashing of other people, countries, religions, organizations, communities, races, ethnicities, professions, and personal choices has to stop. America is no longer the melting pot you thought you wanted. A melting pot mixes everything together, resulting in one product, which never shows the many different ingredients that created it. Instead, treat America as the garden salad it truly is. Allow ingredients to work together to make an incredible end product; the ingredients that are good on their own, but when combined make a better dish; ingredients that can be identified by their differences but not shunned for their uniqueness.

I'm reading one of my awesome bargain books from Barnes & Noble and this concept that Sex is the opposite of Love keeps surfacing:

"The opposite of sex, he used to say, is love. Sex and love are the crudest sort of magnets. One north, one south, violently repelling one another, which is why the natural state is to have one or the other but not both. We use the metaphor of fireworks. When forced together, the two of them, the result is a tempest--unsustainable, unendurable beyond short lenghts of time. We simply cannot manage the battle."

Is this true? Could this be why sex seems to fizzle or becomes increasingly infrequent in long marriages? I this why partners in long-term relationships seem to wean off the extremely eventful and constant sexual escapades of the beginning months together? Could it be that some people feel in order to love whole-heartedly sex must subside to eventual non-existence? Do some deem sex unecessary in the larger scheme of intimacy, family, and longevity?

For those couples with opposite outlooks on the importance of sex vs. love is it possible to overcome such a disconnect? Does the partner craving sex feel unsatisfied and long to venture outside of monogamy, while the love dominate partner feels as though the feelings are unbalanced?

Her malnourished stomach                caves in yearning for substance.                     Searching for unpolluted water                and a feast to feed her children,               but finding only leftover scraps               and muddy libation to satisfy              their cravings.

She watches as her sons and daughters               grow thin and weak.                Seeing her grandchildren abandoned               due to untreated illnesses                     makes her mourn and flashback         to her younger days,           when                            rivers ran clean              and crops were plenty.

Ready or not, here I come—                                                                             with melodious lines that weave around our minds twisting                       language and sound,                                                                                   consonant and vowels                                                                                           into lyrical poetry feeding our souls.

Let’s take a long walk—                                                                                     along city streets to hear the beats of life                                                             and breathe in the culture that creates                                                     personality and melody,                                                                                 allowing music to become part of me                                                             instead of existing outside of me, spectating.

I used to love her—                                                                                         when her hip hop style mixed                                                                            with hard beats and heavy rhymes                                                                       to create something of meaning.

But today she is killing me softly—                                                                     with the lack of relevance, consistency, and intelligence                                when she speaks of laffy-taffy shaking                                                              and racks on racks on racks stacking.                                                      Teaching youth to whip and nene,                                                               instead of inspiring thought,                                                                       fostering autonomy, individuality.

It takes strength, courage and wisdom—                                                               to create music with a voice of maturity,                                                              an art form that lasts rather than a trend that fades.        

To create the sweetest thing I’ve ever known—                                                    is to become bigger than the superficial;                                                               to encapsulate culture in a single line;                                                                  to say everything in few words                                                                               instead of nothing in many.

On and on and on and on—                                                                                the mastery of your melody                                                                                   is overshadowed by the lack of creativity.                                                       Plans if I ruled the world—                                                                                  are clouded by lust, violence, fast fads,                          and cash money greed.

I wish I could go back in the day—                                                                   when music enveloped the mind                                                                        and moved the body in a sensual grind;                                                           when music meant more than                                                                        selling records or topping the charts;                                                              before 106 and park took over                                                                             and Billboard declared who’s hot and who’s not;                                              

         when music stemmed from Roots, blooming seeds of knowledge, truth,                                understanding, love and non-conformity.