@balomas.bsky.social
September 18, 2025 at 3:42 PM
Reposted
After years of complaining about cancel culture, the current administration has taken it to a new and dangerous level by routinely threatening regulatory action against media companies unless they muzzle or fire reporters and commentators it doesn’t like.
Let’s be clear about what happened to Jimmy Kimmel
Trump’s most brazen attack on free speech yet.
www.yahoo.com
September 18, 2025 at 2:10 PM
After years of complaining about cancel culture, the current administration has taken it to a new and dangerous level by routinely threatening regulatory action against media companies unless they muzzle or fire reporters and commentators it doesn’t like.
September 18, 2025 at 10:43 AM
They touch
but do not connect
they speak
but do not hear
they seek
but do not find
they cry
but shed no tears
they crouch in silence
waiting
#micropoetry, #loss
but do not connect
they speak
but do not hear
they seek
but do not find
they cry
but shed no tears
they crouch in silence
waiting
#micropoetry, #loss
September 17, 2025 at 5:59 PM
They touch
but do not connect
they speak
but do not hear
they seek
but do not find
they cry
but shed no tears
they crouch in silence
waiting
#micropoetry, #loss
but do not connect
they speak
but do not hear
they seek
but do not find
they cry
but shed no tears
they crouch in silence
waiting
#micropoetry, #loss
September 17, 2025 at 5:40 PM
Yesterday, we got our COVID-19 and Flu vaccines. Since we are over 65, Medicare covered the cost. A young man in line asked about getting the Flu vaccine; his insurance doesn't cover it, and his cost would be $100. Our health care system is broken.
September 9, 2025 at 10:14 AM
Yesterday, we got our COVID-19 and Flu vaccines. Since we are over 65, Medicare covered the cost. A young man in line asked about getting the Flu vaccine; his insurance doesn't cover it, and his cost would be $100. Our health care system is broken.
A rusty can
kicked along
not thinking
as it flies
without thought
mindless trash
left outside
toe to can
metallic
rattling
a dirt road
summers heat
bored childhood
#poetry, #August, #summerday
kicked along
not thinking
as it flies
without thought
mindless trash
left outside
toe to can
metallic
rattling
a dirt road
summers heat
bored childhood
#poetry, #August, #summerday
September 4, 2025 at 3:02 PM
A rusty can
kicked along
not thinking
as it flies
without thought
mindless trash
left outside
toe to can
metallic
rattling
a dirt road
summers heat
bored childhood
#poetry, #August, #summerday
kicked along
not thinking
as it flies
without thought
mindless trash
left outside
toe to can
metallic
rattling
a dirt road
summers heat
bored childhood
#poetry, #August, #summerday
September 4, 2025 at 2:59 PM
September 4, 2025 at 2:58 PM
September 4, 2025 at 2:54 PM
September 3, 2025 at 5:34 PM
September 1, 2025 at 12:52 PM
A golden lock of hair
eyes a summer sky blue
your laugh light and merry
I hold you close to me
feeling the heartbeat of life
that beats for our love
soon the summer rains will fall
our moments to will come to an end
until then, my love will remain
even as the grave takes us away
#poetry
eyes a summer sky blue
your laugh light and merry
I hold you close to me
feeling the heartbeat of life
that beats for our love
soon the summer rains will fall
our moments to will come to an end
until then, my love will remain
even as the grave takes us away
#poetry
September 1, 2025 at 10:45 AM
A golden lock of hair
eyes a summer sky blue
your laugh light and merry
I hold you close to me
feeling the heartbeat of life
that beats for our love
soon the summer rains will fall
our moments to will come to an end
until then, my love will remain
even as the grave takes us away
#poetry
eyes a summer sky blue
your laugh light and merry
I hold you close to me
feeling the heartbeat of life
that beats for our love
soon the summer rains will fall
our moments to will come to an end
until then, my love will remain
even as the grave takes us away
#poetry
I just want to write a few words,
nothing fancy or profound
just a few words of faith
of the beauty I see
the way the grass moves in the breeze
the shades of green
the whisper of the silence
that calls me to see,
that the well of love is deepest
when I wander in peace.
#poetry
nothing fancy or profound
just a few words of faith
of the beauty I see
the way the grass moves in the breeze
the shades of green
the whisper of the silence
that calls me to see,
that the well of love is deepest
when I wander in peace.
#poetry
August 31, 2025 at 8:50 PM
I just want to write a few words,
nothing fancy or profound
just a few words of faith
of the beauty I see
the way the grass moves in the breeze
the shades of green
the whisper of the silence
that calls me to see,
that the well of love is deepest
when I wander in peace.
#poetry
nothing fancy or profound
just a few words of faith
of the beauty I see
the way the grass moves in the breeze
the shades of green
the whisper of the silence
that calls me to see,
that the well of love is deepest
when I wander in peace.
#poetry
What makes a poem?
Where do we find our words?
How does the poet see them?
Amid the world's great grief,
through the turmoil of love,
In the morning sunrise,
the laughter of a child,
The slow pulse of love,
What makes a poem?
Where do I find, my words?
#poetry
Where do we find our words?
How does the poet see them?
Amid the world's great grief,
through the turmoil of love,
In the morning sunrise,
the laughter of a child,
The slow pulse of love,
What makes a poem?
Where do I find, my words?
#poetry
August 31, 2025 at 8:45 PM
What makes a poem?
Where do we find our words?
How does the poet see them?
Amid the world's great grief,
through the turmoil of love,
In the morning sunrise,
the laughter of a child,
The slow pulse of love,
What makes a poem?
Where do I find, my words?
#poetry
Where do we find our words?
How does the poet see them?
Amid the world's great grief,
through the turmoil of love,
In the morning sunrise,
the laughter of a child,
The slow pulse of love,
What makes a poem?
Where do I find, my words?
#poetry
Cumulus or nimbus
I can never remember
All I see are dreams
Taking shape in the sky
#micropoetry, #haiku
I can never remember
All I see are dreams
Taking shape in the sky
#micropoetry, #haiku
August 29, 2025 at 7:19 PM
Cumulus or nimbus
I can never remember
All I see are dreams
Taking shape in the sky
#micropoetry, #haiku
I can never remember
All I see are dreams
Taking shape in the sky
#micropoetry, #haiku
August 29, 2025 at 6:44 PM
August 29, 2025 at 6:18 PM
August 29, 2025 at 6:15 PM
Watching Bruins hockey!
March 5, 2025 at 12:52 AM
Watching Bruins hockey!
Wondering where the money for these deportations is coming from? What happened to helping hurricane victims in North Carolina? What about the victims of the California wildfires?
January 23, 2025 at 1:21 AM
Wondering where the money for these deportations is coming from? What happened to helping hurricane victims in North Carolina? What about the victims of the California wildfires?
Recovering from shoulder replacement surgery has been less painful than today. At least my pain will end can't say that for our country.
January 21, 2025 at 2:30 AM
Recovering from shoulder replacement surgery has been less painful than today. At least my pain will end can't say that for our country.
Postmodern dungeon complete with an instrument of torture. Television is the attempt to make you believe you're outside having fun!
January 8, 2025 at 4:03 PM
Postmodern dungeon complete with an instrument of torture. Television is the attempt to make you believe you're outside having fun!
Nay, I was foolish, weak. I shall return,
Back to the Night and Silence that I love,
Back to my dreams. It may be even yet
The old fires on the old grey altars burn,
The old Gods throng their shadowy haunted grove,
Where I can sleep, and rest me, and — forget.
— Rupert Brooke
Back to the Night and Silence that I love,
Back to my dreams. It may be even yet
The old fires on the old grey altars burn,
The old Gods throng their shadowy haunted grove,
Where I can sleep, and rest me, and — forget.
— Rupert Brooke
January 8, 2025 at 2:07 PM
Nay, I was foolish, weak. I shall return,
Back to the Night and Silence that I love,
Back to my dreams. It may be even yet
The old fires on the old grey altars burn,
The old Gods throng their shadowy haunted grove,
Where I can sleep, and rest me, and — forget.
— Rupert Brooke
Back to the Night and Silence that I love,
Back to my dreams. It may be even yet
The old fires on the old grey altars burn,
The old Gods throng their shadowy haunted grove,
Where I can sleep, and rest me, and — forget.
— Rupert Brooke
On November 22, 1963, C.S. Lewis entered the Wardrobe one last time entering Narnia in the presence of Aslan.
November 23, 2024 at 12:27 AM
On November 22, 1963, C.S. Lewis entered the Wardrobe one last time entering Narnia in the presence of Aslan.