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Bamboozled No More! 9/11, God and Time

 

It was the longest day in history.
Time stopped.
We wandered among televised carnage
As our minds and souls went numb.
What had just happened?
Without warning our emotional screens
Went blank.
We saw what we could not believe.
The images didn’t change.
they were rebroadcast, repeated everywhere.
Switching TV and radio stations
Was not an option.
The war had arrived here.
The place we considered sacred ground.
our homeland.

But God would not stop time.
We thought the images imprinted
Upon our memories
Would remain as we saw them,
That all the horror would be saved,
Unchanged, locked away in a collective memory.

We thought time stopped, but it did not.
That day turned into night,
Became an imperfect collective nightmare.
Because we were all in different places
When the planes fell from the sky
And the buildings collapsed.

God did not stop time.
God would not leave us
To relive hell over and over.
God being God, moved the hands of the clock
Forward slowly, ever so slowly.
God would not stop time.
Because to stop time would be a true end,
The place where the exact same event
Would be repeated.

And hate would be the only thing we would have.
So God being God let time pass slowly.

 

Janet Cormier is a painter, writes prose and poetry, and performs comedy. JC prefers different and original over pretty. She loves collecting stuff, but cleaning not so much. Janet also talks to strangers…a lot. Her column now appears weekly on Oddball Magazine.

 

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Bamboozled No More! Mean Girls

 

Some things never change.
I’m sure mean girls have always existed
In all places, at all times.

The mean girls, female bullies.
Daughters of the worst mean girls
From a generation ago.

Mean girls look in some warped mirror
And see perfection in all they do,
Which justifies all and every
Act of aggression.

Mean girls don’t answer to God.
They have their own set of commandments
And quiet as its kept,
Mean girls party with the Devil.

Mean girls travel in packs
Not to be mistaken with girl gangs,
Aka girls in gangs who party
With girls and boys in gangs.

Mean girl transgressions
Aren’t really crimes because
Mean girls don’t commit crimes.

They just remove obstacles
Aka people (spelled with “p”
in the lower case/class).

Mean girls don’t
Outgrow their meanness.
They grow into it,
wear the meanness proudly,
stretch and adjust the seams,
Pass it on to the next generation.

It’s in the genes,
their legacy, our burden.

 

Janet Cormier is a painter, writes prose and poetry, and performs comedy. JC prefers different and original over pretty. She loves collecting stuff, but cleaning not so much. Janet also talks to strangers…a lot. Her column now appears weekly on Oddball Magazine.

 

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Bamboozled No More! Identity

 

Where were you
When you discovered
You had the power
To shape words into images,
Place words on paper,
Speak them,
Share them.
When did the secret
Reveal itself to you?
When did you discover
You were here to write!

 

Janet Cormier is a painter, writes prose and poetry, and performs comedy. JC prefers different and original over pretty. She loves collecting stuff, but cleaning not so much. Janet also talks to strangers…a lot. Her column now appears weekly on Oddball Magazine.

 

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Bamboozled No More! Who Said God Said That?

 

Here is your here.
Catch it before it becomes a there.
Too late. You hesitated.
You took a breath and the here
Became a there.
Here is your now.

Catch it before it becomes a then.
Again, too late.
You blinked allowing the here
To become a then.
Thank God that God
Has a sense of humor
And an appreciation for variety
Over sameness.

God intentionally created
People imperfect.
That’s why we are here
Not in heaven, hell or purgatory.
Yet we get the time and space
To do what we can
Or want or don’t want to do.

God knew her/his kids
and realized we wouldn’t do well
Under pressure
Which explains why that line about
“Time waiting for no one”
Wasn’t included in the Ten Commandments.

Truth be told,
God favored variety
And quirkiness over sameness.
God watches us as we rush to grow up.
But God never intended for growing old
To be a sin.

That was a misguided scheme
Set up by the marketing division
Of human limitations and control freaks.
The people with the little minds
And even smaller souls!

 

Janet Cormier is a painter, writes prose and poetry, and performs comedy. JC prefers different and original over pretty. She loves collecting stuff, but cleaning not so much. Janet also talks to strangers…a lot. Her column now appears weekly on Oddball Magazine.

 

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Bamboozled No More! Shredding the paperwork, Shredding the Truth

 

God has left the building.
No one listens to God.
No one cares.

All those battles for civil rights
Have been forgotten.

Truth and justice appear
On the table for show,
For visitors and guests
On special occasions.

Ego and personal wants
Trump truth and justice,
This has nothing to do
With current politics.

Truth be told, trumping truth
Predates the elections of 2016.

This has always been the way
People justify the means
To a desired outcome
That has nothing to do with humanity.

Shredding the paperwork.
Another way of saying
Case closed, leave it alone,
I have spoken, there is no recourse.

Shredding the paperwork
Is a warning that hopelessness
Is in the house.

Understand, the deck was marked
Back when the settlers arrived
And displaced native peoples,
And when people were shipped as cargo.

Shredders are the latest tools of choice.
I shredded your paperwork has become code
For You have been dismissed and rendered invisible.

Shredding the paperwork clears the room,
Removes all evidence of truth
That would contradict an ego
That merely wants what it wants,
To be in control.

Shredding the paperwork
is the means to a happy ending,
More satisfying than sex for some.

Shredding the paperwork,
Also code for Accountability
Don’t mean a damn thing,
And I can do what I want,
When I want to, whenever I want,
To whomever I want to!

Has anyone seen those Ten Commandments?

 

Janet Cormier is a painter, writes prose and poetry, and performs comedy. JC prefers different and original over pretty. She loves collecting stuff, but cleaning not so much. Janet also talks to strangers…a lot. Her column now appears weekly on Oddball Magazine.

 

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Bamboozled No More! Starting with Hope or Not

 

He didn’t have much to start with.
He never talked much about his family or background.
His parents couldn’t be parents.
Their parents didn’t have much to start with.
Thus they knew nothing of how to be family.

The boys fathered babies who fathered more babies.
Sometimes a mother raised that offspring;
Other times a mother would give the offspring
Up for adoption

Too often, fathers never knew their fathers.
They were raised by mothers
who tried their best, or not.
These boys, the unidentified sons of men
Who never knew their fathers
Were left repeating the cycle
That became a legacy.

On occasion, a man would find love
But didn’t know what to do.
Sometimes a man found love
And chose to love back.
He chose to choose without taking on
The sins of his father.

He chose to give his son
Something more to start with
Which he was never given:
Faith, hope, love, and a willingness to stay.

 

Janet Cormier is a painter, writes prose and poetry, and performs comedy. JC prefers different and original over pretty. She loves collecting stuff, but cleaning not so much. Janet also talks to strangers…a lot. Her column now appears weekly on Oddball Magazine.