The idea of home is so far away from today’s reality…
Family figures who were wayshowers became betrayers,
My hometown has become a rich man’s enclave,
far away from the hippy beach community that was heaven…
and I don’t even know this country I once loved.
I am glad to know that this life is an illusion…
more like a nightmare now.
I am distraught about what we are reading about on the news…
I always knew that this hatred existed in some people,
but now I know it is a huge part of the American psyche.
The things that I read about happening daily to black people are
terrible tortured hateful happenings; they break my heart…
I have had days where I felt like I couldn’t breath with the terrors in this country.
Even the very idea that POC are harassed by other Americans while being
human in America is disgusting and a huge embarrassment.
I know that writing about this is not going to bring me art followers,
but really, how can any of you stay silent?
Home is where I find Mitchell and the cats, no further.
Okay, I have friends of like minds, which makes me hopeful.
“Memory is more indelible than ink.”
Anita Loos, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.
“I think not….”
Me… why I journal!
©D. Katie Powell.
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I teach architectural sketching,
art journaling (art+writing), creativity, watercolors.
That annoying loud-mouth editor/critic in your head? GONE! How great would that be?