25 Comments

Awesome, simply wonderful!! Thank you a thousands times for this poem on the horrors of imperialism and the awful British empire. Thank god it is fading, but it seems to be taking the world with it.

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CJ... Superb. Tears here....

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Thanks – and more: Matt Orfalea’s CENSORED / DELETED videos on YouTube

Democrats' "Stolen" Election Claims | FLASHBACK -- September 29, 2022

https://rumble.com/v1m15p8-democrats-stolen-election-claims-stolen-2016-election.html

"Rigged" Election Claims | Trump 2020 vs Clinton 2016 -- September 29, 2022

https://rumble.com/v1m1364-rigged-election-claims-trump-2020-vs-clinton-2016.html

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I love this poem. Thank you Caitlin. A very meaningful and sensitive one.

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I can relate to this: "I walk on stolen land under a sun that burns my pale skin."

Lovely poem.

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We all migrate. It’s no surprise. Our forebears did, as did their children, as will ours.

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Recently I set up a trail cam by the compost heap to see what lurks around at night. The two characters that appear most often and sometimes at the the same time are the fox and opossum.

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At the Poetry Reading

JOHN BREHM

I can’t keep my eyes off the poet’s

wife’s legs—they’re so much more

beautiful than anything he might

be saying, though I’m no longer

in a position really to judge,

having stopped listening some time ago.

He’s from the Iowa Writers Workshop

and can therefore get along fine

without my attention. He started in

reading poems about his childhood—

barns, cornsnakes, gradeschool, flowers,

that sort of stuff—the loss of

innocence he keeps talking about

between poems, which I can relate to,

especially under these circumstances.

Now he’s on to science, a poem

about hydrogen, I think, he’s trying

to imagine himself turning into hydrogen.

Maybe he’ll succeed. I’m imagining

myself sliding up his wife’s fluid,

rhythmic, lusciously curved, black-

stockinged legs, imagining them arched

around my shoulders, wrapped around my back.

My God, why doesn’t he write poems about her!

He will, no doubt, once she leaves him,

leaves him for another poet, perhaps,

the observant, uninnocent one, who knows

a poem when it sits down in a room with him.

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Excellent, thank you.

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Love the emptiness your looking into.

It’s amazing what you can do without.

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Don’t flatter “white people” or yourself that they’re the only ones who “stole” land. Has gone on for as long as humans have gathered together, and continues to go on. The means and ends continue to evolve...

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Please share this:

So from sorrow one comes to pass the fulfilment of life as love.

To grasp the root, one has to kneel and so to feel and care, to Love.

Love is the happiness you share, not so much that which you hold.

Please mind your Mind, it is your friend, on the path to home.

One's home is his heart, the place where the most elusive being resides.

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Wonderful and thoughtful as usual. We’re you always called Caitlin? Imagine you know it’s the Gaelic spelling for Kathleen, but missing the accent mark (fada) on the second “i”. The dark Irish humour (cynicism?) shines through your writing. Mind you, Johnston is not an Irish name, so maybe it comes from your mother, where all the good things come from. So, please, for all of us, stay sane and safe. Dan Blake

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They're MONSTERS Caitlin! Absolutely disgusting, vile horrible monsters!! "They" know who they are and what they did wrong....death will be a release....for CERTAIN

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