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~ Words For You, Just Ask

Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet

Tag Archives: Murder

Piracy Under the Cross

11 Monday Nov 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in Colonialism, Imperialism, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Racism, USA

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Britain, Catholic Church, Christianity, Colonialism, Crime, Joy, Love, Missionaries, Murder, Native, Native Americans, Peace, Pirates, Pope, Rape, Spain

Crusade1

It’s never too late to make amends.
To make a change, to recognize
the humanity of native peoples…

The British and Spanish, among others,
came to a land across the sea,
sized it up, coveted and stole.

Piracy under the Cross.

“Fine people on both sides”
tout the greatest democracy
on earth while Native Americans
remain locked up on land
we cast them to so we could
rape and reap the benefit
of their inheritance.

How many white people in
North America live on and
benefit from stolen land?
Armed theft in 1607 is an
at-large crime with victims
today.

Genocide and removal are
the ways of the “greatest
democracy in the world.”

Add to that slavery, promising
to pay the slaves after a war,
not paying the slaves after
the war as promised.

Visit Skid Row in Southern
California’s Lost Angeles,
a place I call Otsungna, the
native name… the place of
the roses until the Spanish
came with bibles and guns
to conquer, convert and kill.
There you see in black and
white, mostly black—the neglect
and invalidity of the USA,
a government founded in racism,
religionism, slavery, violence
and lies.  African Americans
brought in cages and chains,
released from bondage in 1865
without land, entitlement,
ownership, but “you are free
so enjoy your nearest slum…”

These sins and crimes still
fester; they are not less sins
and crimes because they were
long ago.

Health depends on honesty
and clean living;

For that reason, I have removed
myself from the supposed
“United States of America,”
a British experiment gone wrong.

All Guns Are Wrong

10 Sunday Nov 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in Gun Control, Guns, Murder, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Joy, Love, March for Our Lives, Mass Shootings, Murder, Never Again, NRA, Peace, USA

Gun1

Many split hairs about
murder and killing, call
a loud canon firing lethal
bullets in the air at other
human beings “self-defense.”

Some appeal to the supposed
authority of a flawed U.S.
government and constitution,
covering every manner of sin
with their rights to be wrong.

All guns are wrong.

Gun powder from Asia
they say, so many years ago,
Europeans jammed up in
space and competition, Romans
taking over a while, the British
and Spanish learning the bible
alongside their firearms,

off to conquer the non-
Christian world, as if some
good and Christ-supported right…

All guns are wrong.

They are loud, and proper
martial artists of self-defense
abhor them.

They are wrong.

The animals in nature cringe
against them.

They are wrong, and are
displeasing to the Great
Creator, who I am sure loves
peace for the maximum number
of people as is possible.

They are wrong, are for cowards,
for people afraid of life,
so much so they become
bedeviled into taking it
away from others.

All guns are wrong—

The obnoxious, fearful coward’s
way of life to blow things up
and edge out God.

Slippery When Wet

25 Friday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Poem, Poems, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Celibacy, Christianity, CIA, Cover Up, FBI, God, Innuendo, Life, Love, Lying, Murder, Peace, Pious, Pious Fraud, Religion, Sexual, Truth, Wet

The left hand is holding something
very valuable.

You need what is in the left hand…

Keep looking at it, the left hand
sure to contain that which will—

Thanks, I’ll see you later, and the
interaction ends.

Weeks later, you check your piggy
bank and notice all the money is gone.

I stole your money with my right
hand, as you looked at my left hand.

But the left hand was important—we
needed it to survive!

“We killed them in the interest of
National Security.”

“We stole the documents in the interest
of National Security.”

“For the furtherance of Democracy and
Freedom, we invaded the country
and deposed their horrible leader.”

The pious fraud, better than God—it
makes okay every single sin so
sin away!

Because in the end, friend—the end
justifies every mean thing we do
or say!

We are the CIA!!  The FBI, we’ve got
your back!  We keep you safe, so
you can just live out your day, it’s
on us!!

“We go where others cannot go,
accomplish what others cannot
accomplish,” says CIA on Twitter
to us schmucks—us, the lowly
American with normal people rights.

Those agents with super-people rights!

Wow, can I be one of them?

Sure, here are the steps:

1. Have a shitty childhood where truth
is on edge or upside down, Dad drinks
and love is scarce.
2. Go to an Ivy League school, get good
at computers—join a Fraternity, get good
at telling and keeping secrets.
3. Secret Society membership is a plus.
4. We like Patriots, who can put “country
before anything else.”  Even God.
5. Don’t believe in God—he or she cannot
keep America safe.  Only we can.

***

Stop to take a breath.

6. Get used to lying.
7. Lie to yourself, God and others
every day.

***

We lie in the interest of National Security.

(National Security is often code for
“not embarrassing the Agency.”)

You might fall into a crack, if it’s
wet enough.

Pregnancy is another thing, altogether.

The Wife of Your Youth is most likely
behind you, but we make due with the
me and you we have in front of us.

You, too?

“Ready, shoot, aim” is the plan of
the orange, golf-playing orangutan “president” —
unless a Russian is calling the shots from
across the sea, look at me,

The MS-13 gang members are “animals?”

Yes, so are we.

You mean it as a curse?

So was it a curse for CIA to support the
killers of El Salvador’s archbishop, Oscar
Romero in 1980.

MS-13 came from his ashes.  And there,
an American “president” bags on the guys
our own murder created.

Bags on immigrants in an immigrant
country like the dis-United States.

Great Spirit, native spirit, the mother
Earth reaching out to touch us, but
your motorcycle gets in the way,
helicopter blades and sirens ruining
the day.

Shhhhhhh!

God wants to talk with us, we could
make him or her king!

Ignore Samuel and his walk to
the top of the mountain to
represent us.

“Jews will not replace us” the rally
call of hate, which comes from fear,
which produces anger—

all leading to suffering over time,
Yoda from Star Wars stopping on a dime.

Eternal life!

To secure and clean L.A. outside our
means because the rich council can’t
see it yet.  The mayor choked by his
tie, all a cliché of what Mom wants,
when she doesn’t really know what
she wants, going from high to high,

and when not high…

duck.

Ready, shoot, aim… Trump is drunk
with the buck so duck, it’s MS-13
that are the “animals!!”

So lock your door, another prejudice
is coming.

Ends and means line up, the pious fraud
catching up; we’re trying to evolve,
God help us to with your will align.

Today.

The only day, sublime, it’s wet when
slippery—slippery when wet.

The curse we all feel when we let…

her get away.  The wife of our youths,
we let her go.

Our forefathers stealing native land, we
let our own mother go!

“We’ll see what happens,” there’s
always another side to a story!

The real Gold was Native American wisdom,
not the yellow rock in Georgia, made them
march away and cry,

a trail of tears brought on by Trump’s
idol, Mr. Jackson, stick a needle in
their eye.

My mother said to pick the very best
one and Trump is not it.

Easy targets.

Ready, shoot, aim!

We’ll see what happens.  Kill Kennedy,
Martin, the other Kennedy, Romero
and Lennon,

and we’ll do it again…

***

unless.

Unless, says the Dr. Seuss Lorax when
hoping against hope.

Lao Tzu smiling the smile of
the longevity god, oval-headed and
jovial in the night before an unknown
dawn, the magic of change
in the birth of babies and a new day!

It’s slippery when wet!!

It had better be, if you want to
see us multiply and a future supply,

mountains moving from there to here
because fasting and praying was not
just for the religious but for the wise.

The atheist must sigh.

“The power greater than me has a name,
just stop calling it God.”

Without saying a word, the baby
just is.  The uncarved block, the truth—

sex for the celibate.

The High Water Line

12 Tuesday Sep 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Poem, Poems, Poetry, Science

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

CIA, Florida, Houston, JFK, Joy, Kennedy, Love, Murder, Peace

I like to walk instead of driving,
look for solutions to today’s problems
in the rear view mirror of books,
hardbacks often hard to find but worth
the struggle.

We seek and find, ask and receive—if
earnest and caring, but so much depends
upon grace or luck, there’s a back and
forth play at work between effort, love
and achievement.

The wide path to destruction might always
just be a fact, the narrow to redemption
and heaven just there was well, Jesus a
“great”—but don’t call him a “good” teacher
unless you want a reprimand.

“You cannot change the world” said Lao Tzu,
“It cannot be done,” is so wise, and yet it
is the human way to try, try, try—for what
else is there really to do but try and be the best
we can be?

“To make an effort” was the reason for
being alive, according to Charles Dickens’
Mrs. Chick, a cool character in Dombey
and Son, which was really about Dombey
and Daughter.

Irony is the bitter pill, sometimes sweet,
like that black hole though—it depends
where you are standing when observing,
it’s all relative like the Water Line drawn
again after a storm.

You wonder if they’ll keep building under
it, or will they learn to respect the force
of nature that wrecks the coast, build
up and back from the shore, deny ourselves
beauty for safety’s sake, use the lessons
we learn from history.

CIA killed JFK, we still didn’t black people
enough pay, and the natives we pushed
off their land so we could frankly: steal
it for apparent gold, and the subtle peace
of segregation and walls.

Something there is that doesn’t love a
fire hose, children in a Birmingham street,
Gandhi grabbing salt from his own beach,
oil pipelines crashing into native American
drum beats.

It would just be neat, if the wide path narrowed,
the narrow widened—which is the exact
reason to get up in the morning and write
a poem, I guess.  Something there is, Robert
Frost on my window.

I look back, try not to get hit in the front,
try to remind us about Samuel’s request for
a king, the corruption that would come
from men ruling over men—it’s still here,
but that’s the world.

We believe what we want to believe, change
walking in bearing five senses if aware you
catch them; driving fast in a metal box you
might miss the message of a cross, and eating,
eating you miss

what the fast was trying to teach, take less
at the buffet, by bread alone man does not
eat, but from every word God speaks, the real
treat is peace of mind following your best
sober day ever.

Every reach is seen and counted, your every
hair a part of universe fabric as it bends to
accept planets and balls, spinning and moving
like sex parts or Niagara Falls, the Earth certainly
alive and well.

Sometimes it’s too hot, sometimes the wind
blows telling us we are not in control,
and scientists insist the temperature is rising
over time in response to irresponsible burning
and human waste.

I am no one to argue with career professionals
minus those who keep killing Kennedy with
every tweet on social media, all of us looking
to November every four years as the Mecca
of potential change.

I prefer to bend with every four months, a new
natural season unfolding seemingly more
powerful where I live than a stated political
goal unfurling in the calm, frantic waters of
history so deep—

So jump in, measure the place where we sank
after the swim, then don’t build buildings anymore
below the mark, so we don’t have to after a
hurricane do this all over again, same with
murdered presidents.

Keep score, mark what CIA said when they
blocked this, or hid this document, hold
each other accountable—don’t let the norm
be the bearer of false witnessing before a
court still reeling,

from the truth behind an M-16 waiting, we
dare you to look, intimidation sometimes
amuck, too much pressure mounting until
whoops!!  The dang levee broke, “We have
to fix it today!!!”

Maybe.  Or maybe wait, take deep breaths,
and hike up the marsh until it’s dry as a bone,
build there.  Look at CIA in the eye, give them
all a hug, and say, “There, there. It’s okay
to lie, and steal,

if you admit the sin, try to never do it again.”
And murder… sixth on the commandment
list of ten: admit, accept, and take the action
of change away from old habits, make a decision—
declare victory!

Come back to God, honor your parents whether
they were nice to you or not, they did their best.
Honor the Sabbath day, and keep Something holy!
Believe in a Power greater than you, keep
Something holy!!

Ask for Wisdom, like Solomon did, erect
your life strong and bright—just smart and
right!  Start by keeping an eye on the past
and what it teaches so fine; start by building
above the line.

It’s Time to Re-Open JFK

29 Wednesday Mar 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, History, JFK

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

CIA, JFK, Murder

AND INDICT CIA

-by Bill Watkins 3/29/2017

CIA Garbage1

***

All credible evidence and testimony point somewhere.

Regarding the murder of John F. Kennedy on November 22nd, 1963:  all credible evidence and testimony point toward CIA.

Toward Howard Hunt, Frank Sturgis, hitmen Gerry Patrick Hemming, the Novis Brothers and pilot Pedro Diaz Lanz.

Bitter, scared covert CIA and anti-Castro “professionals” hell-bent on saving the CIA against Kennedy review and change.

A group committed to revenge for the Bay of Pigs fiasco, and Kennedy’s lack of air support to that CIA failed mission.

Killing JFK to them also seemed the only chance for escalation in Vietnam, continuance of a kill Castro program, a possible calming down of liberal de-segregation policies and peaceful globalism.

Finally, war of course meant money to CIA and military personnel they controlled.

That control was a creeping death, unleashed by Truman in 1947, two years after a beautiful peace document was signed by the United Nations in San Francisco to hopefully avoid all wars.

From the CIA site:

FIt. Admr. William D. Leahy:

January 24, 1946: “At lunch today in the White House, with only members of the Staff present, RAdm. Sidney Souers and I were presented [by President Truman] with black cloaks, black hats, and wooden daggers, and the President read an amusing directive to us outlining some of our duties in the Central Intelligence Agency [sic], Cloak and Dagger Group of Snoopers.”

Nobody laughed in Guatemala when Howard Hunt and other CIA spooks perpetrated a covert propaganda campaign to influence the 1954 election.

Hunt’s “psychological warfare” helped lead a “near bloodless” revolt and coup to install the CIA’s favorite dictator du jour, to be replaced later by a “democratic election.” (Hunt v. Liberty Lobby, 1985)

Sound familiar?

Wherever there was communism, socialism or any “ism” uncomfortable to CIA and American capitalist expansion, there was the CIA operating with their apparent blank check covert cloaks and daggers.

El Salvador and Vietnam would be future targets of CIA manipulation, BUT NOT UNTIL KENNEDY WAS KILLED.  Kennedy was a fly in their poison, so they geared up Operation 40’s “kill Castro” objective to turn on JFK.

According to credible, life-risking Marita Lorenz testimony, a CIA murder caravan left Miami for Dallas before November 21, 1963.

Arrived.  Were paid by Hunt, visited by Oswald’s eventual killer, Jack Ruby.

Guns in cars, disguises, cover as policemen and secret service officers, trained to kill Castro.  How hard would Kennedy be to snuff out in ex-Deputy CIA director Charles Cabell’s neck of the woods?  His brother Earle was the Dallas mayor at the time.

Cabell was “ex”-Deputy CIA director because Kennedy fired him after the Bay of Pigs disaster.

Motive abound, the CIA—at least a part of it, moved in on JFK, who had expressed his desire to dismantle the covert cloak and dagger boys, saying “I will splinter the CIA into a thousand pieces and scatter it into the wind” a month before his death.

Murder. 11-22-63.

Then a bogus LBJ-instigated Warren Commission began to “investigate,” led by Allen Dulles, the CIA Director fired by Kennedy after Bay of Pigs.

Cover-up.  Propaganda.  CIA specialties went into effect.  Still are.

“Oswald did it.”  “Kennedy was a bad guy.”  “He was a womanizer.”

Gossip, innuendo, without fact.

“As long as they get distracted or forget.”

“Look at Trump!!!”

“Look at Russia!!!”

Yes.  Yes.

First, let’s look at CIA.  Then go back to slavery.  Then go back to Native America.

Redemption requires Truth.

—Bill Watkins, Alcoholic

The Coup of 1963

28 Tuesday Mar 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, History, JFK

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

CIA, JFK, Murder

-by Bill Watkins 3/28/2017

Coup1963

A branch of CIA, or all of it, was responsible for the murder of John F. Kennedy on November 22, 1963.  A branch related to Nixon’s Operation 40, which set out to kill Castro and re-establish a free, democratic and capitalist Cuba.

Kennedy became a big fly in the ointment of that mission, and left the American Bay of Pigs invasion without air support in 1961—causing that action to fail miserably.

Bush, Helms, Dulles, Hunt, Nixon, Hoover, Cabell—countless anti-Castro Cubans, U.S. military high-ups committed to “Spreading Democracy,” “Fighting the Spread of Communism,” and the ever-popular concept of “National Security,” Operation 40 itself:

Turned on Kennedy.

Not ready to strike right away, because assassinations take planning—JFK’s enemies waited for the right time.

JFK fired CIA director Allen Dulles and his deputy, General Charles Cabell, over the Bay of Pigs fiasco.  Dulles, the single most influential “spy” in history, involved with American foreign service since World War I—ousted just like that.

Deputy Cabell, also let go, had a brother in a high place that could come into play at a later date:  his brother Earle was the mayor of Dallas.

***

Well, off Kennedy goes.  His part in the Bay of Pigs was an immense learning experience that shaped his final two years.  He began to tear apart the CIA, promised to pull out of Vietnam, began to reach out to the Soviet Union—achieving a nuclear test ban treaty.

But not until after the Cuban Missile Crisis, an event that further informed the new JFK policy direction so despised by the CIA and U.S. military cold war establishment:

Peace at all costs, diplomacy at all costs—wait things out, be patient, and make brothers and friends out of the world, not enemies.

***

Enemies give military and covert CIA operatives their jobs and money.  Think of NBC’s RCA and all those military contracts.  Food on the table for the war machinists.  And Kennedy planned to take this away from them.

Well, every fire needs a spark, and hot and sultry New Orleans seemed to provide it.  Talk, planning and collusion—call it conspiracy, became rampant and contagious among U.S. Intelligence operators there according to New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison’s research.

And in the Miami area:

Operation 40 training sites flourished—the same ones involved with the Bay of Pigs, even George “41” Bush and his gun-running CIA outpost, “Zapata Oil” off the coast of Cuba.  His gun transport boat, “The Barbara,” a cold war cover only Yale’s Skull and Bones brothers could appreciate.

Hot, well-trained, racist, frustrated by JFK’s refusal to kill Castro, his promises for peace in Russia and Vietnam, his reaching out to Martin Luther King and the desegregation movement—constantly thwarting and ignoring military and intelligence advisers after the Bay of Pigs, the killers planned:

TO KILL THE PRESIDENT ON HIS TRIP TO DALLAS on NOVEMBER 22nd.  Ex-CIA deputy Charles Cabell’s brother, Dallas Mayor Earle Cabell, was available to help, and Dallas authorities with a knack for being a “part of history”—albeit a violent part, would surely be willing to contribute.

According to former Castro lover and CIA operative Marita Lorenz, a two-car caravan headed west out of Miami with weapons in the second car in early November.

Howard Hunt of Watergate fame arrived in Dallas on the 21st to meet the caravan, finalize plans and dole out money, also according to Lorenz testimony.

Lorenz, who risked her life to tell her story, further testified that Oswald’s eventual killer, Jack Ruby, stopped by the assassins’ motel in Dallas on the 21st.  Marita herself split the scene, knowing what these men were about to do; she went back to her child in Miami.  But when Ruby’s photo was widely published after he killed Oswald, she knew…

***

Death.  Murder.  A man, president, father, husband—murdered gruesomely in front of his wife.  The fence above the grassy knoll rocking with fire and plumes of smoke.  Eighty percent of all Dealey Plaza witnesses see and hear more gunfire from the knoll than from the Book Depository, where Oswald was according to the official government story supposed to be wreaking precise and devastating terror from the 6th floor window with a defective rifle.

Oswald is caught watching a movie later in the day, a patsy set up for years since Bay of Pigs.  A poor marksman according to nine out of ten of his Marine mates.  His gun the worst possible rifle for precision—laughed at in Italy as the gun that “lost the War.”

Oswald failed the nitrate test, proving that he did not even shoot a rifle that day; and the first rifle found in the Depository was a German Mauser—unrelated in any way to Lee and his Italian carbine.

Yet the FBI presents to the Warren Commission, formed by coup victor LBJ to investigate and report on the assassination, their conclusion that “Oswald, and Oswald alone, killed JFK.”

With a bad rifle from a bad, partially obstructed position, miraculously creating frontal wounds from behind the victim.  He murders Officer Tippit while escaping, they go on to frame.  A lone communist nut.

President Johnson, the big Coup of 1963 “winner,” headed to brand new policies and a complete change in direction away from peace and deeper than ever into Cold War.

Johnson escalated Vietnam, revoking JFK’s commitment to de-escalation.  Defeating the Soviets replaced Kennedy’s dialogue toward resolution and peace.  Castro and Cuba were squeezed with sanctions after a time under Kennedy that showed a potential for friendship according to French reporter, Jean Daniel.

The Cold War was back on, with CIA in true control of the American Government.

Here is a photograph of LBJ winning the presidency through CIA murder, winking to Texas Congressman Al Thomas, back left:

LBJ Wink to Al Thomas

Never mind Jackie’s tears or her future Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder from seeing her husband brutally murdered by her own government spies.

***

The Warren Commission overseen by Warren, led by Kennedy-fired Allen Dulles, was supposed to investigate and report on Kennedy’s murder and surrounding crimes.

It was instead a large-scale prosecution of the late Lee Harvey Oswald without a defense, violating the 6th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution.

Attorney Mark Lane was ready to defend Oswald, hired by Oswald’s mom, but the Commission refused Lane’s requests to participate in customary 6th amendment defense.

Dulles and the Commission seemed to say: “We must show our nation to be strong and win the Cold War.  We cannot have a Coup on our record—we’d be like other nations.”

Perhaps we are.

Press Clueless on Murder

23 Thursday Mar 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, Journalism

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Love, Murder, Peace

How We Report Capital Crime

-by Bill Watkins 3/23/2017

Chief Seattle on Eternal Life

Pre-religion cultures may have it right.

“We don’t talk about the dead,” say Aboriginal and Native American cultures.

They don’t do so for varied reasons:

1. Respect for Life
2. Courtesy to the Bereaved

The Life Cycle continues, and the fallen human is absorbed into the ground from whence they came, spirit is renewed and cleansed with our tears—

not unlike a burned hillside regenerates with rain and time.

***

Modern “Western” reporters blare out “death” like it means so little.  Like Life means so little. An obvious desensitization…

From where does our cold edge and limp heart toward our fallen brothers and sisters come?

Alcohol? Drugs? That cagy punk, the Devil?

We are beating to the Devil’s drum, I think—a good percentage of people, heading sadly toward that “wide path of destruction” spoken of by Jesus of Nazareth.

Tragedy brings us to proper heart beats.  Loss.

Near death experiences to be sure.  Alcoholics finding the light in hospital beds as I did years ago.

***

Reporters:

Consider amending your cold reports, talking about “the dead” as numbers for your cold statistics and news stories.

Pause and be real.

Pause and be human.

Find that poet within, the pre-religion nature lover, the post-religion respect and love for all people and things.

Back up from tragedy, human loss… and

Feel.

Euphemisms for Murder:

23 Thursday Mar 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, Political

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Murder, Peace, U.S. Military

U.S. “Air Strikes” and “Defense”

-by Bill Watkins 3/23/2017

6th Commandment

Murder is not Defense.  Killing is not defense.

A criminal’s heart does not have to stop beating for them to no longer be a threat.

Non-lethal weapons exist.

***

Could a government formed on Native American blood, African slavery, and covert assassination ops ever turn around, find its own heart, and cleanse?

“We” are not lost, just as “air strikes against Isis” is really “mass murder of suspected criminals and their families.”

I am not lost.

Found by Alcoholics Anonymous, God, a new awakening to truth and goodness—a chance to live the dreams of youth.

I suspect alcoholism and addiction, total bedevilment of the sad “American” soldier, selling his or her soul with that first “shot” on the firing range.

Trained to murder.

Justifying the murder with the grand Pious Fraud that “these killings will help us win the war on Terror.”

The Devil is full of expressions—Euphemisms to justify insanity, sin and iniquity.

And our perverse U.S. military is sadly under their spells.

***

Heal, brothers and sisters.

Give back Native land in accordance with the old treaties—broken for gold and greed.

Heal, brothers and sisters!

Pay our debts, both financial and emotional.

Pay the African slave descendent a stipend, a travel grant so that he or she can return to land from which they were brutally, immorally stripped.

Heal, brothers and Sisters!!

Repeal and Replace the Second Amendment, justification for murder. Now.

Heal, brothers and sisters.

Stop killing.

Stop calling murder “self-defense,” “defense,” and “air strikes to defeat terrorism.”

Murder is murder. Killing is killing. Stop.

Pasadena Stop Sign

Second Amendment Wrongs

23 Thursday Mar 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, Gun Control, Poetry, Political

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

2nd Amendment, Constitution, Love, Military, Murder, Police

The right to kill permeates military
spending, uniforms sparkling,
“something to do” as we seek out
and destroy to generals and devil’s
cold glaring shout of pride
and approval, the parade going by,

so sharp and sure, knowing
what to do finally, because they
yelled in my ear what I’m supposed
to do.

This was years after I neglected Moses
on the hill, or upon returning from
God.

A few tablets or one, or two shouted
easy truth—so it seemed, ten commandments
then hundred of little laws;

but the commandments, they are still
good. Thou shall not kill is re-written in
1789, ’90 and ratified in ’91 as the Second
Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.

Thou Can and Should Kill, sayeth not Moses
but geniuses like Alexander Hamilton and
Washington, War-mongers in sharp
beating uniforms parading in peace-time
to simple orders.

“… the right of the people to bear arms”
the rally call for NRA and killers all, so fun
at the range or in a video game, paramilitary
or on the front line, get a holster, clean your
weapon, Soldier, time to learn to live
by your gun, die by it too—go to court,
pull out the Second above Moses and God’s
Sixth—plead insanity or “self-defense,” the same
thing:

To MURDER as self-defense! “Yes,” the Devil
loves that amendment! “Make more like
that, abandon God, forget Moses, and
Jesus, rabbis and priests hypocrites
the lot of ‘em!”

BOOM, LAPD shoots another in the chest;
the bum was reaching for his vest,
must have been bad—the evil as much
in thinking we know the future as anything
else.

So vain, so sad, we plead the fifth against
the second avoid the sixth and cop
to violence over and over again
at borders and beyond, your own
front lawn.

“The right to bear arms, “defend by
killing—“Justifiable homicide,” the
Devil’s favorite two words, those and
the one known as “judging,” so
“please” the Devil pleads, coerce the
people to go in and judge others!!

Throw out Moses, God—take YHWH,
write it LORD, then bastardize it as
“Lord” without the capitals, go all the
way—

Amend real, ancient and wise law with
the right to bear arms, “right to kill”—

Murder God now!

Or repeal toward peace to Devil’s
frown, the God we kill rising up
to guns and bullets melting down
except for the ones used to hunt
our food, we can change even though
the world cannot.

And this was good.

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