Good Morning Digital Neighbors! Happy Saturday Refugees, Phamily, and Triggeratti! It's morning Early Birds, Dawn Patrol, Fascinating People, Beautiful Bigots, Conversants, Lurkers, Later Dayers and Day Walkers! Well it isn't Sunday Morning, but I hope your Saturday isn't too stressful and mostly easy and interesting.

For the most part I am not a big fan of poetry. Perhaps I was subjected to too much bad poetry in my childhood, sort of like people experiencing bad or empty religion and dismissing it lock, stock and barrel. You can't entirely blame people for their responses and reactions to things which impacted their childhood and younger years so negatively. Anyways, occasionally when I am looking for morning quotes or something for the early hours posts I come across the unexpected. It happens more often than anticipated which is a pleasant surprise for these morning ventures on to the inter-webs.

E. E. Cummings, I knew of him from both high school & college in American Literature classes, but don't remember much about my limited and test related exposure to him. Most poems, and most artists seem to inhabit the Left side of the cultural flow, which is actually a gift when cultures possess talented artists. The LEFT doesn't enhance its resident and supportive culture, it hates it as much as the RIGHT does and and the selfish, indifferent and self-absorbed CENTER. The extremes (the reason for CAPS) should always be identified and countered with as much forceful awareness as possible.

It is hard to be a loving critic, and far too easy to be an unloving critic (there are legions pouring forth from the Cabal and its institutions) and it is of no good service to an uncritical lover whose indiscriminate acceptance will allow ruinous contradictions to tear things apart as much as the active hate of the unloving critical LEFT. I know, I focus too much on the LEFT, because the extreme RIGHT is currently marginal and minimal (Unless you believe the Enemedia and Big Tech which finds the RIGHT under every questioning or critical mind).

e. e cummings - as he is often identified in literature, gained some bonus points in my book this morning by being a visitor to the USSR and not be enamored by its reality. But before I read that little factoid, I came across this morning's wonderful find. Enjoy my friends.

If you‘ve listened close to silence,
I'm sure that you have heard,
The gentle constant ringing,
In the space between two words,
When you really pay attention,
You find it's not just in your head,
But instead is whispers of the words,
The world has left unsaid,
It’s "I love you" left unspoken,
And a mothers last goodbye,
That she never had the chance to say,
As she watched her daughter die,
It's forgiveness never given,
And a “sorry" left too late,
That would have saved a best friends life,
If they'd known it could not wait,
It's a phrase that could have helped them,
And it's secrets that could heal,
It's words from those too scared to say,
The truth of how they feel,
But you have an advantage,
For you're still alive to speak,
Words that could help save a life,
Or give strength to someone weak,
So may you never leave unspoken,
Words the whole world ought to hear,
Before they just become the ringing,
In another person's ear. ~ e.h

Somewhere in the Ozarks