Monday, November 9, 2020



The Voiceless Quill

 From "The Voiceless Quill" now available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble-


Her

May I tell you about her?

Someone will need to remember

My memories are dying quicker than I

May I tell you about her?

Please, before they are gone

She wasn’t supposed to be first

She was to care for me

The first-time I saw her, I loved her

Her hair was the color of the sun

Her eyes as blue as crystals at the bottom of the sea

Her laughter was a symphony composed by angels

Her skin was the silk of gods

Her face...


I can’t remember her face

It hurts in my heart

I don’t want to cry tonight

But if I cry tomorrow

I won’t remember why


May I tell you about her?

When her pain came

She would take my hand, leaning close

Whispering fantasies

I could taste her lips

She kissed away my sorrows

Whispering words of…


I can’t remember


Who is that?

Can you tell me about her?

The one in the photo

Resting upon my nightstand

Do you know her?


Her hair is the eye of heaven

Alabaster skin I long to touch

Her smile is sad

She is beautiful

Please, Will you...tell me about her

Before I’m gone


Monday, October 12, 2020

Yes Virginia, there is privilege

Earlier today, I read a post on social media from a man who identified himself as a nurse. An E.R. nurse. An emergency room nightingale. A noble profession indeed. In his post, perhaps better described as a rant, the nurse whined about the treatment our President received while in the hospital after testing positive for the Virus. The nurse complained about everything from the treatment the President received, to the cost of treatments, to the lack of available treatment for others. He ended his post by writing, “That, my friends, is privilege.” I assume he was referring to the President’s treatment and not everything else he belly-ached about.

Well, this E.R. nurse is correct. The President of the United States, the most power office on the face of the earth, held by Donald J. Trump, received treatment in a manner that can only be described as privileged. As he should.

He received this benefit in the same way the E.R. Nurse obtained the privilege to add to his title, the words E.R. Nurse, or R.N if so earned. Or in the manner a Doctor of Medicine can carry the tittle of M.D, or Ph.D. Lawyers display the title Esq., accountants, C.P.A., engineers, P.E. Each of these are privileges bestowed upon individuals. A father who is granted the privilege to walk his daughter down the aisle. A soldier wearing an insignia of rank, or medals upon chest, a police officer wearing a badge, a football team hoisting the Lombardi Trophy, are all privileges that stem from determination, hard work, blood, sweat, tears and immeasurable sacrifice. 

Privilege is not given or earned because of the color of your skin, your gender, who you were born to, or where you were born. Don’t be shocked, but you had nothing do with any of these. If you consider yourself as privileged because you have a silver spoon in your mouth, you have lily white skin, or a set of testicles between your legs, you are wrong. You are not privileged… you are ignorant.

You are just as ignorant when you think someone else’s privilege stems from genetics.

The President has privileges you or I do not have. Call it White (house) Privilege if you must color it. This privilege comes at a great cost. It is deserving of the office and of the occupant. The ranting E.R. Nurse has another set of privileges that I or even the President do not have. They too, came at a cost.

It is time to wake up and realize we are not all the same. There are those that are better than you, smarter than you, stronger than you, or have more money than you. If you want what they have, go earn it! Dry your pitiful tears and silence your annoying moans, nobody is listening. We are out discovering the means to our own privilege.

I would think an educated person like a nurse would understand, privilege exists.

I would be negligent when speaking of privilege if I omitted the greatest privilege of all. A privilege that does not require your blood or sweat. It does not require your sacrifice. These were all accomplished for you by someone else hanging on a cross on a hill called Calvary. The privilege I speak of is to be called a Child of God. I could not earn this title, couldn’t buy it, steal it, or forge it. It is the privilege given by God when He chose me. Even as His own son, Jesus Christ was dying.

He chose you too. Have you met Him?

Thank your for listening. It has been my privilege.

God Bless


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