Dark Ravens Rise

ravensDark ravens rise in mocking flight as snarls do hiss and serpents coil.  There is no babe in comfort held.  All lies are truth and truth are lies.  The cries of old in silence held.  A mother’s arms no longer are.  A babe in life now twists in death – the hope all gone… no breath to see… cold stillness of pain surpassed … tomorrows to never be.

The naked womb in haunted shame, echoes cries of tortured screams.  How often did the baby plead for a mother’s arms to stop the deed and simply give a chance to be?

Did she know?… did she care?… was there a moment she thought to dare and give a chance for this little life to be?

Or… did the lies rise up to snare still another doubting soul in guise of right and righteousness that is not so and few do see?

A right that makes it good to take a little life in glee breeds serpents tongues and crickets shame to sing upon the world of he and all that be.

A tiny soul in limbo rests while memories haunt and deeds devour the inhumane of selfish ways whose dark voices cry in thought of only “me” and “my” and “I”.

There is no rest for tortured ones as they desperately do wander in search… always in search… of what they can not find… nor ever shall, you see.  For it was a tiny soul clinging to a cold womb who held the light and sparked the fire of what we call humanity.

Copyrighted ©Carrie K. Hutchens 2013 – All Rights Reserved

In One We Are No More

Disco BallThe picture painted to distort and deceive, it’s nothing such as it ever seems.

The words of old twisted and rushed, say so much and mean so little.

The world of hope a ploy conceived and given as a gem none shall ever see.

No time to beckon.  No time to cry.  It’s over now.  No dreams remain.  What was is not and what was not is.  The confusion and delusions invade and become, as tomorrow is forgotten and the future becomes void in a clone of only one.

None beyond one.

Only one.

Just one to be and behold.

A spirit rages.  It speaks and demands.

Alas, the plan of one is dimming in the light.

We are no more as once we were, but neither are we one as they wished us to be.  For there is a gem to see and a gem to be as we become the nightmare of the collective ones, who now have learned — our souls are our own and never for sale, nor a gift given unto them ever this day, nor even beyond.

Yes, our souls are our own, as they, in conclusion and confusion, walk sadly away from us as one and only one, for in their world of singleness there are none beyond one.

 

Copyrighted ©Carrie K. Hutchens 2013 – All Rights Reserved

Dark Cloaks & Puddles

cloakAnger cloaks me in a dark passion of corrupt thoughts and evil visions untold.  No day is absent of dissent and the twisted fate of melting dreams and hope scorched in vile slime of failure.

The sun no longer shines in the brilliance that whispers “One of these days…”

Instead, it is another day… just another day like all others.  A day of anxiety.  A day of desperation.  A day of searching… begging… pleading.  Simply a day.  Yes, a day simply of shadows and demons and old memories that haunt and beckon my defeat and utter destruction.

Clouds roll in to meet my mood.  Thunder rumbles.  Lightning flickers.  Rain gently begins to sprinkle the thirsting, cracked and parched ground.  Its rhythm is soothing as a lullaby to a wee one, with whispers of hope and loving comfort.  Birds sing along in delight and bathe happily in little puddles made just for they on this simple day that rests within the harsh ones that have come before and the ones that will come after.  But for today… just this day… there are puddles to play in, and a freshness in the air that invites and embraces, as the dark clouds roll on their way with the thunder rumbling somewhere in the distance of someone else’s day.

puddleSo little… so little it takes to delight God’s tiny creatures and bring songs of joy to their simple day.  A simple day with lessons that beckon and give me pause to remove the cloak of anger at least for today… this simple day…  this day of puddles and lullabies and crisp, fresh smells of a new beginning given simply because it was.

 

Copyrighted ©Carrie K. Hutchens 2013 – All Rights Reserved

When the Information was Wrong: The Inaccurate Public Conviction of George Zimmerman

George Zimmerman's Great-Grandfather

George Zimmerman’s Great-Grandfather

On February 26, 2012, in Sanford, Florida, life ended for one young man and life forever changed for many more. There is no turning back. There are no second chances. A young man is dead and another young man faces the results of decisions they both made that day.

While we can’t take back how things played out with the Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman encounter or anything that led up to those final moments of life-death changing events, we do have a responsibility of calling the media, our president, Al Sharpton, Jessie Jackson, Black Panthers and a few others to account for their irresponsible responses, reporting and race baiting behavior thereafter.

Turns out that, Zimmerman, the “white Hispanic”, is not only nearly as Black in heritage as our president, if not completely so — he was raised under the influence of a half-black grandmother, rather than, a white grandma as Obama was.

Well, who would have thought such to be a possibility while listening to the original reports of it all?

It appears the president and Al & buddies didn’t.

Amazing how some major players of race-baiting have all run from the story, or so it seems.

The media being so irresponsible as to unjustly inflame, is beyond belief.

It used to be that the media sought out the truth and facts, but in the Martin-Zimmerman case, didn’t we see video that supposedly suggested that Zimmerman was not injured, when in fact he was?

Haven’t we often heard that Zimmerman “disobeyed” the dispatcher, when, in fact, the tape has the dispatcher saying something to the effect, “We don’t need you to do that.” and Zimmerman calmly responding, “Okay.” Yes, haven’t we heard that conversation followed by lack of heavy breathing… meaning that Zimmerman was neither running after ,nor walking swiftly, after anyone.? Yet, that bit of misinformation suggesting that Zimmerman disobeyed the dispatcher continues to follow the story. Why?

I can only suppose the “why’s”!

Without there being racism and racial profiling, this may have merely been a tragic story that was nothing more than a misunderstanding between two people. A story that might have been reported briefly and stuffed into the history files of all the other sad things that have happened to people more often than we would like to think. That’s what it could have been. But none of those possibilities mattered as Al Sharpton, the president and all those others jumped in and made a bad situation even worse.

Let’s not forget NBC’s edited version of the 911 tape that makes it appear that Zimmerman is saying that he is suspicious of Martin, because the teenager is black. The tape was edited. That ISN’T how the conversation went. Yet, people are still relying upon that bogus version and holding George Zimmerman guilty because of it.

How does NBC plan on remedying the wrongful results that rest with their wrongful actions?

Once a lie or bad information is out there, it is out there. Some will consider the original information to be gospel and refuse to consider any thought word or deed that counters the holy words of the first to speak and report. Of course, how hard do those reporters, agencies or officials try to correct their original misinformation and even outright lies? Do they repeat their misdeeds and misreporting every few minutes such as they repeat the sensationalized story headlines they create?

Read the full article at the American Clarion where it was originally published:
When the Information was Wrong: The Inaccurate Public Conviction of George Zimmerman