Michele Bachmann’s Greatest Hits, Translated

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In Chinese and back to English… in her honor

I do not know how much God politicians attention. We have earthquakes, we have a hurricane. He said, “You have to start listening to me here?” Listen to the American people because the American people are roaring. They know that the government is sitting on a morbid obesity diet, we’ve got to control expenditure.

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My mother last night after the debate in Tampa, Florida, I will tell you. She told me that her little daughter, vaccine, that injection, she suffers from mental retardation.

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I do not know what it is, the swine flu outbreak, and then another Democratic President Jimmy Carter in the 1970s. I am not accusing President Obama, I just think this is an interesting coincidence.

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I am very concerned about the international moves they’re doing, in particular, … moving from the U.S. dollar and the currencies in the…

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Two Sides of Tolerance: Accepting Others

A Quiet Week In The House

Perfume

Not long ago, I enjoyed tea and pastry at my favorite bakery. A woman with dizzying perfume swept into a seat behind me. Her sharp, expensive fragrance slid over my table, invading each sip and bite I took.  Irritation engulfed me. I snatched up my notebooks and stomped across the room to pen a few ill-tempered paragraphs. When my tea tasted good again, I stole a glance at the perpetrator. Slim and sixtyish, she stiffened under my scrutiny.

I expected someone offensive and unlikable–a diabolical, slathering fiend, perfume bottle in hand, ready to shoot pungent fluids at my face.  Instead, a frail and self-conscious senior citizen nibbled a croissant.  Her red-and-black plaid pantsuit radiated as fiercely as her fragrance. She was the kind of woman who applies lipstick with a tiny brush and styles her improbable chestnut hair with precision. In a deserted bakery, she purposely chose the seat closest…

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Time Warp\Worn

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“No one makes me scream quite like you do!”
The words dropped off in the empty house
The tensions had been there for years
But they only recently expressed themselves
It had only been ten years
But the years of the carefree past
Seemed further away than ever before
Decisions made as easily as turning on a light
When slim athletic builds were easy to come by

But just as the gravel road leading to their house
And changed course slightly over years
With the rain
They had both become someone different
And one morning they awoke in the same bed
Clinging to the same sheets
To find that each had lost the other
The core had crawled away
Hidden away
In the deepest folds of the brain
He wasn’t a young go-getter anymore
And she had misplaced the loveable blonde
They had grown old
Frumpy
Tired
Completion and satisfaction
Found only in routine
And now the warm arms
Were only attached to strangers
They would talk
But were at a loss for anything
Anything that meant something
That stuck to the meat of the bones
That surrounded their hearts
Lying awake at night
Staring at the ceiling
They would both think back
Across the chapters of their short lives
Remembering that brief moment
When they realized their eyes matched
And they had both said at the same time…..

“No one loves me better than you do!”

Wet Snow Like Cold Memories

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She arose from a dream
Where nothing was what it seemed
Tacked, tethered and tottering
The screams, whispers, laughter… louder
Broadened out and deepened within
As if blasted through giant megphones
Long as it was
It was still two shades away from sin
The color that mystifies
Then darkens the face that is kissed after it cries
A feeling that was sorely missed
After the lies

Weakened at the horizon
We’ve gone as far as we can go
Taken at the beauty of the eye of the sun
And the dark sapping of a wet snow
Don’t ask and she won’t tell

Pain like disease
Makes her lame
Disease like pain
Was everything she didn’t need

And when that dream got lost in memory
She it was just a cycle of history
Partial poignant epiphany
It’s enough to make history
But recognition is fatal
To the baby in the cradle
So when she arose from the dream
Everything was exactly the same

Together as One – One in Ourselves

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We soar like birds
In migrations
On routes etched in our conscious
Across ancient skyways

We march like soldiers
Single file
Through booby trapped jungles
Watching the flanks

We are groups of tuna
Dodging whale sonar
While slicing through the Pacific

But we are also subject to isolation
Victims of population fragmentation
Modern day hermits
Adrift in a giant sea
Millions of square miles
With no land in sight
Riding waves
Suspended 3 miles above the ocean floor

It is an exercise in futility
A daily reality
An aching for understanding
Into the mind of humanity