Who is the Poorest of the Poor?

Who is the poorest of the Poor?
Is it not the one deprived of womb?
Is it not the one gone unnamed?
Given a frame
But denied rightful claim,
Stripped bear of place,
No space to grow,
Deprived of a proper birth?
Is it not the one evicted,
Before drawing it’s first breath,
Whose beating heart is silenced,
With the sanction of the Court!?
With privacy,
Lest the whole world hear it’s cry?

Though a mother forget her child,
The Father of all fathers
Will not, no never, forget.
He has a place,
And a name,
For all the poor,
For the poorest
Of the poor,
Called “Beloved”
And “Poor No More”.

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

Who is the Poorest of the Poor?

Who is the poorest of the Poor?
Is it not the one deprived of womb?
Is it not the one gone unnamed?
Given a frame
But denied rightful claim,
Stripped bear of place,
No space to grow,
Deprived of a proper birth?
Is it not the one evicted,
Before drawing it’s first breath,
Whose beating heart is silenced,
With the sanction of the Court!?
With privacy,
Lest the whole world hear it’s cry?

Though a mother forget her child,
The Father of all fathers
Will not, no never, forget.
He has a place,
And a name,
For all the poor,
For the poorest
Of the poor,
Called “Beloved”
And “Poor No More”.

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

Be Ready for the Infant King

The Holy Night by Carlo Maratta

Who will come to the stable
On Christmas Day?
And what will they take away?

Wise men, steadfast and earnest, came,
Instead of palace music,
They heard the donkey brae.
A lowly sound and sight,
Yet their wonder unallayed.

Many come rejoicing,
To behold the Newborn King,
Bowing low,
While angels sing.

Christ comes for all
But not all come.
Some come, behold, then fall away,
Being rootless, they merrily go their way.

Father God prepared a voice
To announce His Only Word,
A messenger, born before, to go before.
Another child, spared Ramah’s plight
To live and pierce Sin’s long night
John, O, John, still cries, “Repent!”

Prepare if you would follow.
At Jerusalem’s Gate,
Many cried, “Messiah,”
Who would soon cry, “Crucify.”

Whose will will you do,
When the music fades in life?
Pride prides itself on ‘my way,’
Confounds with will and strife.

Without a ready, willing heart,
Nothing changes Christmas Day.
Corrupt hearts go on corrupting,
All the while the kingly Infant cries,
As throughout His life,
“I am the Way.”

Whose heart will live in yours
As angelic songs fade away.
Will you simply leave the stable
To follow your own way?

Come, O come, rejoicing!
Praying for a change.
Receive the Babe within your Heart.
Beg Him forever stay.

©2010 Joann Nelander

Who is the Poorest of the Poor?

Who is the poorest of the Poor?
Is it not the one deprived of womb?
Is it not the one gone unnamed?
Given a frame
But denied rightful claim,
Stripped bear of place,
No space to grow,
Deprived of a proper birth?
Is it not the one evicted,
Before drawing it’s first breath,
Whose beating heart is silenced,
With the sanction of the Court!?
With privacy,
Lest the whole world hear it’s cry?

Though a mother forget her child,
The Father of all fathers
Will not, no never, forget.
He has a place,
And a name,
For all the poor,
For the poorest
Of the poor,
Called “Beloved”
And “Poor No More”.

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

I woke up this morning and decided that I am a Mermaid. Affirm me!

BY PAUL MCCUSKER 05/20/2016
I woke up this morning and decided that I am a Mermaid. An African-American Mermaid. No, wait, I am actually an African-American Transgender Mermaid Who Is Lesbian. And left-handed. (My taste for Sushi makes me think I’m Japanese, too, but I’ll figure that out later. I can always change my mind.)
Now, to accommodate this decision, I am going to expect the government to replace the roads with waterways so I will have easy access to the places I want to go. (The good news is that there’ll be no arguments about bathrooms because I’ll simply relieve myself in the water.) My employers will have to change my office to a pool or tank of some kind—they’ll have to or be accused of discrimination. My family may be surprised, but I’m sure they’ll come around. They’ll have to, if they really love me. It doesn’t matter what I do to their lives by my decision. No one should hold me back. Maybe the President will say how courageous and brave I am for finally being what I was truly meant to be.
I may throw a party and demand that the local pet store make me a seaweed cake (and they better do it or I’ll sue). One day I hope to marry again—several times, perhaps, since Mermaids aren’t really monogamous. Anyway, that’s where I am. Later, I will be taking a chainsaw to my various bits—removing my legs and what-nots to facilitate my change. Don’t worry. It’s not self-mutilation because it’s my choice and I say it isn’t. Though, unfortunately, the operation to change my respiratory system—human lungs to gills and all that—will have to be funded by taxpayers under the Affordable Health Care Act. I’m sure you don’t mind, because it’s what I want.
I can’t describe the freedom I feel right now. For such a long time I have been oppressed by a so-called “reality”—whatever the heck that is—that has told me I am not actually a Mermaid. I now see Reality for the lie that it is. I am a Mermaid! Rejoice. Affirm me. Celebrate me. Because the very word “Mermaid” starts with “Me”!

Read more: http://www.ncregister.com/blog/mccusker/i-woke-up-today-and-decided-that-i-am-a-mermaid.-affirm-me/#ixzz49PNCosT3

Enjoy your transgender bathrooms. We just lost America. | NewBostonPost

(Adobe stock photo)Source: Enjoy your transgender bathrooms. We just lost America. | NewBostonPost