Who Let Donald Trump in?

Donald Trump thinks he has all the answers. Does he believe money makes up for everything else lacking? Donald Trump lacks good manners; he is a bully and a braggart and the sort of person that usually puts others off, but for some unfathomable reason, he is becoming increasingly popular!
Is Donald Trump saying all the things other people wish they had the courage to say?
Does Donald Trump's open suspicion and paranoia speak best for the worst in the rest of us?
Do we really want this kind of person to be the leader of the western world or are we hoping Donald Trump can save us from ourselves-be the fall guy, the A-hole who said all that awful crap about racism and religious intolerance and got away with it... right up until other racists and bigots decided to stone him. No, not with rocks, silly. They just decided to get him good and high to test his meddle.
For awhile he was the nicest guy...until it wore off.
Would someone give Donald another toke?
There aren't enough tokes to make Donald into a decent caring human being. His arrogance and narcissism are woven into the fabric of his personality. It is obvious that he thinks he is right-every time. There is no fixing a Know-it-all. It's a special kind of crazy.
Am I voting for Donald. Heck no! Will I laugh at anyone who does? Heck yes!
What will I do if he is elected President?
Become an Ex-pat as quick as I can close it down. America won't be the place I know and love if
The Donald wins. My opinion and $1.75 will buy you a coffee at Starbucks. Thank God its an international company.
Amen
Raintreepoet, opining. 12/2015

SIX MONTH ONE NIGHT STAND

A lot happened that year-it was during Vietnam

I was Thurston County Dairy Princess

attending Centralia College by day and

working the 3-11 shift at the

Oregon Trail Restaurant, nights

He came to my counter

just before closing, a broad dimpled

smile on his face and said,

I need coffee…

I had just cleaned the coffee machine

but I smiled and said, it’s brewing,

As I set it up to make a new mess

for the cute guy with the dazzling smile

And what is your name? he asked

Cinderella, I said and he laughed,

a resonant belly laugh that made me

flush crimson

He plopped himself down on a stool

and smiled at me as though I were

a treasure; a girl cannot ever forget a look

like that!

He drank coffee and we talked, while

I bustled about cleaning up

You’re ending your shift, he noted

How would you like to listen to

some really great music?

I was tired, but he was oh so cute,

so, I said, yes, even though I almost

fell asleep on the ride to his house

even though I knew I had Finals

beginning Monday and had planned

to study all weekend

I stayed up, necking till three,

listening to Waylon Jennings and

Ferlin Huskey singing about

broken hearts and love gone wrong

It was my first foray into country music

and what I did not realize at the time

it was the beginning of my own country song!

He was going through his second divorce and

he was only 26

A more experienced woman would have

seen it coming, but I was fresh off the farm

and only nineteen

Over the next few months, we had

lots of hot sex

I broke up with him when his attention

waned and he married some divorced bottle blonde

with a three year old ,the next spring

Let’s see, he was 27, it was his third marriage

when I met him, he was living with his mother

He had a Samoyed named “Alki” (short for alcoholic,

he laughingly said)

He had fathered a child at 18 with his older

sister’s friend, married her to give the boy a name

then divorced her as quick as the baby came

One night a call rang in from a girl he’d lived with

when he was in the army stationed in Alaska, when

he was 19- after he hung up he explained that she’d

been 17 at the time and he bragged about doing

her and her mama, too…eww!

Did I miss anything?

Red flags waving all over the place-

right in my face!

But I fell in love anyway

I mourned such a long time

then woke one morning and

I was fine…

 RMK, from the chapbook Love Roulette.

December

 

Drinking rum and coke and

Remembering that Christmas Eve

Over twenty years ago

When we drank rum and cokes

While I baked the chocolate

Pecan pies for the next day

We were laughing so hard

When I smelled burning-

Forgetting I had pies

In the oven

I said something dumb

Like ‘Do you smell smoke?’ (Thinking

My cottage might be on fire)

You looked momentarily perplexed

‘Weren’t you baking something?’

Oh my God! The Pies!  The Pies!

I jerked open the oven and

Smoke roiled out nearly knocking me down

Shit! Shit! Shit!

You looked at me serenely

And said, ‘Potty mouth’

In your droll way

Then we laughed our asses off

I poured you another drink

And proceeded to recreate

The pies all over again

You stayed and visited

Because that’s the kinda

Guy you were- a friend

I miss you, brother

And that’s why I’m having this

Rum and coke and

Remembering the good old days when

We were neighbors and

You dropped by and

Watched me incinerate Christmas Dessert!

A remembrance of my brother Doug, who died in a logging accident,December 5, 2000.

December 2011.

Purple Octopus for Sale Portland, Oregon

  Searching old poetry files, found this. Does anybody else out there miss the Greek Cuisina?                                   

 
 
 

           

         Portland, Oregon landmark 

         Housed a favorite Greek Restaurant

         Declared by the city “condemned”

         For a couple years the owner fought the edict,

         but was finally overcome

         Upon vacating the vintage building, there

         Was concern about the huge purple octopus

         Who had greeted the public for many years

         Where would he go, this gigantic sea creature

         Who lived on 4^th Avenue, impervious to

         The elements for so long?

          My friends and I referred to him as Oscar

          Just because we felt the need to name things

          We weren’t really that intimate with the

           Purple octopus, it was simply our way of

          Showing off to our out-of-town friends

          Who we loved to take to Oscar’s

          Especially on Sunday nights when

          The Greek music played and we danced

          And helped break the white china plates

          Also, there was that fateful night when we

           Drank Ouzo for the first time and the rest

          Is truly a blur…I vaguely remember close

          Dancing with a stranger who took liberties

          With me and I was laughing too hard to

          Block his Roman hands!

         And the pastries, Oh the pastries! Rich and tasty

          Little works of art partnered perfectly with the

          Thick, sweet Greek coffee

          We friends capped many an evening with that

         Sweet good-bye before we crossed the river

         The last I heard on the nightly news, of course,

          Oscar was to be auctioned on E-Bay

          Kind of lost track of him after that, but occasionally

          On a blowsy, rainy night I reflect on us running

           Into that building, looking up at his big purple

          Arms & legs flapping in the wind…wherever he is, I am

          Sure Oscar is still making people smile…

          RMK, Spring 2012

Bucket List: European Backpack Adventure

Initial poem opening a chapbook about the eternal desire for adventure, no matter what age the traveler.







The Summer I turned 63, it could wait no longer
I would have regrets on my death bed!
I was still nimble and strong from Pilates and yoga,
so knew now was the time
Rick Steves’ backpack that fit in the overhead
and no other luggage, good to go!
AAA travel agent sold me a Euro-Train pass
and booked flights from Portland to Amsterdam
then Barcelona back to Amsterdam and finally
back to PDX
In addition, I joined Hosteling International
once again
Converted USD to euros right at AAA, $1200 bucks
became 900 euros in my money belt
The original plan: Amsterdam, Belgium, Luxembourg,
Paris, Stuttgart, Florence, Rome, and Athens, Barcelona-
I would book hostels as I traveled
Life happened and the plan was revised due to a credit card
misunderstanding-AAA travel agent said my MasterCard
would work fine, I did not need to get an American Express
It would be too late when my card was turned down everywhere
because it did not have a chip
The exception, thank God, was Hostelling International,
an American company
With new budget restrictions, I pared my trip down, the new
Itinerary was: Amsterdam, Luxembourg, Paris, Stuttgart,
Florence, Genoa and Barcelona-
I’d have to catch the Greek and Roman ruins next time-dang!
Before I left, I talked with my cell phone company and arranged to
Text from the EU. - When I got there, I no longer had service!
I set up a Gmail account to stay in contact with my friends-
When I got there it was suspended
and even though I could use Hosteling International computers,
European countries had no @ keys on their computers,
so I could not email home…
The only camera I had was my cell phone- I wouldn’t find out
until later that there was no way to access the photos let alone
print them…I didn’t care, my travel habit was to buy postcards anyway-
Postcards which cost 25-50 cents in the US sold in the EU for 1-2 euros
($1.40-$2.80 exchange rate!)
Having only 900 euros for my whole trip…
my journey quickly became a survival mission-
When I did the math: $30 euros per day does not go far in this 21st century
Luckily my airfare and train were pre-paid
and the hostels let me use my credit card
Unforeseen expense: Toilettes! .80 (1.12 USD) to 1 euro ($1.40)
to use public restrooms
I usually pee a lot, I soon learned to restrict fluids,
use toilettes on the train and in hostels (included)
whenever possible
Food was garnered from street vendors and in groceries
It was “A moveable feast “as Hemingway had advised
Bottled water was a necessity for me, being cautious-
having been sickened once by native water in Mexico
I walked mostly or when I took public transit managed to be
constantly lost on the city bus and train systems
Marvelous Grace: Earth Angels always appeared to guide me-
This enriched my adventure
I repeated the phrase: “Do you speak English?” often
and was fortunate to find someone who did…
In Luxembourg at the hostel I did not set an alarm and
exhausted slept late
A soft voice said: Hello. Breakfast ends in 15 minutes
and thus a friendship was struck
Laurel and I jogged down to what turned out to be
a sumptuous breakfast buffet and later
walked the quaint town, museuming together
The hostel breakfasts in Amsterdam, Luxembourg and Stuttgart
were generous and scrumptious; meats, cheeses, fruit and
an array of hearty breads and whole grain cereals-
That all changed in Paris!
Continental breakfast; French bread, jam, coffee and
corn flakes & a greyish gruel I was afraid to try- nothing more
Italy, very similar, except there was Nutella which provided
some protein
Not until Barcelona did the protein return!
I purchased cheese and fruit in the markets
and carried my picnic with me
enjoying a cold beer when I could
Pinched for euros, I found churches and public buildings
with fabulous art to imbibe
In Florence, I finally splurged: It was 8 euros to see
a Leonardo DaVinci Museum-Amazing!
The host was one of six Italian engineers who had
assembled interactive sculptures from Davinci’s blue prints
My new friend, Naroke from Tokyo and I spent
2-3 hours playing with Leonardo’s toys-so much fun!
Then enjoyed a fresh slice of pizza and an iced coffee
included in the deal
The lines to the famous Duomo were incredibly long
there were no lines to a nearby church
where Naroke suggested we go in-
The art on its walls and the architecture
rivaled the best galleries
I lit a candle in gratitude and
left a euro for the pleasure
We found a cafeteria, up some stairs
not too full and had our choice of delicacies
at fair prices and little bottles of wine to boot!
It was the only meal I had the pleasure of sharing
the whole trip!
Naroke had to move on
the next day
I knew I would miss her
Well-traveled, she had been an excellent compass
and a good companion...
RMK, summer of 2012.

“Wild Turkey” By Wayne Harvey, Sung by Lacey J. Dalton, 1981.

Right around this time of year a song invariably comes to mind from my wilder,

freer days, when I thought good men had become extinct. This was my anthem.

                                                                                                                                      

I’ve had one lover in all my life,   he left me high and dry

                                                                                                                               

But after I cried all my tears, I learned how to get by

Well there’s been old friends to ease my pain,

                                                                                                                         

Jack Daniels to name a few, But I’ll be damned   if I’ll

                                                              

Go home with a Wild Turkey like you

                                                                                                                                         

Well I been out with Johnny Red, George Bickle has warmed my soul

                                                                                                        

And I’ve taken Southern Comfort to my sweet Kentucky bones

                                                                                                                                      

On a cold night Old Grand Dad has helped me make it through,

                                                                                                                                      

Well, I’ll be damned if I’ll go home with a Wild Turkey like you

But I have seen some losers, who could make a statue cry

But Boy, if you had feathers I’d swear that you could fly

Yes, I came in here alone, and yes I’ve had a few

But I’ll be damned if I go home with a Wild Turkey like you!

Music Interlude

Don’t get the impression that I care ‘bout what you do

But when it gets close to Thanksgivin’ I’d hide if I were you

Yes, I came in here alone, and yes, I’ve had a few, but I’ll be damned

If I go home with a Wild Turkey like you…