BARRACK AND MICHELLE OBAMA & HOW THE PRESIDENCY WAS WON!

NOVEMBER 30, 2012 LEAVE A COMMENT

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I was intrigued, how can a romantic affectionate convolution picture amass million + likes in social networking sites?

Indeed Pres. Obama and wife in that picture of affection publicized a comfortable model of blissful bond. It’s radiating sunny appeal seems an outward manifestation of contentment easily remarkable by that aura of superfluous positivity yet for such picture to attain an outstanding statistical status, it must be something extraordinary but then, on the contrary, it is a simple portrayal of warm affection.

What makes it extraordinary though is not in photographic artistry but bec of personalities portrayed, USA’s superpower couples-Barrack and Michelle.

Amassing such statistical height implies prestige, honor and respect from supporters for such achievement possible, a sign of being upheld so as evident afterwards reaping good reputation to a high pinnacle—the second term of presidency, but why is Obama so loved is a question most Americans can easily notice.

LOVE FOR FAMILY AS EQUATABLE IN LOVING A NATION

Was it not so portrayed in his patriotic servitude as likewise apparent in that famous picture?

Optimism, radiant in the picture seems Obama’s carrier signature campaign slogan. It is an un-worded expression that connects for empathy. Reaping such fame, is it not likewise accredited to that simple gesture of assurance for the people, an optimistic  point of view founded in like-manner of his radiant disposition for Michelle as portrayed in the pic?

I think the moving part may not be on his eminent servitude alone but then on the moving power such disposition of self have been constant as observed—an aura of promising optimism, love and faith. A three-fold cord bind that upholds power in honor—the moving power of victory.

THE ONLY MUTUAL BIND THAT COULD MAKES UNION TO STAND.

In a New York Times article published after the primary, Obama noted that for all people’s differences, he believes there is “a set of core values that bind us together as Americans.” This philosophy stood in stark contrast to the divisive politics of his opponents.

Microsoft ® Encarta ® 2009. © 1993-2008 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

From this site: COMPLETE OBAMA’S SPEECH 

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much. (Sustained cheers, applause.)

Tonight, more than 200 years after a former colony won the right to determine its own destiny, the task of perfecting our union moves forward. (Cheers, applause.)

It moves forward because of you. It moves forward because you reaffirmed the spirit that has triumphed over war and depression, the spirit that has lifted this country from the depths of despair to the great heights of hope, the belief that while each of us will pursue our own individual dreams, we are an American family, and we rise or fall together as one nation and as one people. (Cheers, applause.)

Tonight, in this election, you, the American people, reminded us that while our road has been hard, while our journey has been long, we have picked ourselves up, we have fought our way back, and we know in our hearts that for the United States of America, the best is yet to come.

(Cheers, applause.) I want to thank every American who participated in this election. (Cheers, applause.) Whether you voted for the very first time (cheers) or waited in line for a very long time (cheers) – by the way, we have to fix that – (cheers, applause) – whether you pounded the pavement or picked up the phone (cheers, applause), whether you held an Obama sign or a Romney sign, you made your voice heard and you made a difference. (Cheers, applause.) read more 

DENNIS Y BUTIC

Posted by Unknown 11:21 PM 0 comments

When God played on lil’ Susie

NOVEMBER 24, 2012 LEAVE A COMMENT

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little susie 

bubbly lovely and fragile, an all smile little girl of intangible fluorescence–a blossom too young yet too quick was how evanescence on innocence flourished like picturesque nightmare in rising tempo of red.

‘mama, i lost barbie in the woods, i go find her please?’

‘dear its already twilight, i look for it in the morning.’

twilight was not simply fair. it was a masquerade of the lurking transition, gradual and impoverishingly, evil.

little susie went anyway.

IT WAS THEN WHEN GOD PLAYED ON LITTLE SUSIE.

she broke her ankle sloping down to where the unknown venture rested smoldering. lil’ susie in red gorgeous dress sprawled, her barbie clad in tight possession as she lay broken on hell’s deep of myriad eccentrics. her wound was deep and blood spill profuse as an appeal for the drooling mystique beasts prowling in circles.

‘oh, mama might be worried deep, i have to go home.’

but immobility was how God put a trick on her as the chill of the night was her heartbeat’s pulse.

the howling wind bellowed laughter,

‘oh, lil’ miss is broken, soon she’ll be wolf’ chow!’

a chilling wolf cry seconded eerily. somewhere an ant beseeched threateningly,

‘hey, i knu’ yo arf in trouble but yore sitting on ma dome, move abit or yore dead meat, pal!’

‘oh, im sorry mister.’

lil susie was stalled for the night like a tempting delicacy on a crocodile’s appraising nose. anxiety high rising like mercury incendiary on peril’s lair.

HOW COULD SHE EVER GET HOME TO HER MAMA WITHOUT BEING PIECED APART?

OR, WOULD SHE EVER GETS HOME AT ALL?

a fluttering butterfly drone around, a charm of colors, appealing, soft and kind yet beneath is marred to taint.

‘oh, sweet miss is stuck. oh, mama help me!’

a chirping cricket in animosity piped in smoke,

‘get the hell outa here kid, you’re too appealing for trouble, stray away or be dead!’

trembling, she clutched on the grit instead on wicked jagged wicks.

‘oh, i’m cut.’

bleeding she snappily sucked on her fingers but realizing too late, the wick embedded cut her lips instead.

‘ow! it hurts. if only mama is here, she knows what to do.’

broken ankle? too paralyzing.

gushing wound? weakening. appealing for peril.

a pool of darkened hue was prominent shade on the ground.

nightfall was barely light. perception was on silhouette’s wave as indication of life or wind. neither was there yet sign of threat yet the strangeness of silence is eerie and spooky.

‘lil’ susie’s afraid.’

a wolf cry..long and durably, goosebumps, then intermittently, of many.

struggle was impossible as hypothermia impeded correct judgment and actions. everything around is an ambiance estrange and unfavorable.

for awhile though, reprieve gave her some sleep after sipping on gathered dew, the moon broke in radiance bathing her in glorious balm yet the hope it left, could it be as flickering candlelight withstand the battering tempest?

grit was not her attribute. tenderness was.

to be durable single-handedly is quite a survival disadvantage but somehow she managed to hang on resiliently yet with the intensifying hypothermia how could she sustain?

crack!

a broken twig.

alarm?

looking at the direction, only the sound of gushing wind was present, mocking.

then, a symphony of rhythmic cacophony. were they wolves?

they were heckling coyotes.

‘got lost lil’ princess? hek hek, want a ride home?’

sniffing her wounds, she bellowed a wolf-like howl, long and a wicked tease.

‘get off you bad, ugly…’, smashing a stick yet too thin, it broke.

past midnight.

at home she should have been sound asleep, clutching at her barbie, dreamily and happy. regularly, was mama’s lullabye before sleep, an enchantment she most often hear in state of euphorical dream but now she wished for it longingly, much so, in this state of secluded solitude.

she scribbled randomly on the ground,

‘oh, dear God make my feet to walk. bring mama here, dear lord, am afraid of them’

but no matter what recourse she attempted, futility was her eternal bind and inevitable, an adjective of her dilemma–indeed it was.

‘hek hek hek’ coyote named scar, after a decision, concluded, ‘eat her!’

so as the story goes…

was she indeed?

it is a memoir inherent of nostalgia somehow, aroused in recollection, how it ends, was something of the Almighty’s decision. it is different for everyone even in like situation.

ending*

walking the streets of hollywood, a man, clutched hands in pockets lazily strolling by, whistling, ‘oh say can you see by the dawn’s early light…’

he kicked on a litter hard that he skidded flip-flop butt stump on the ground. an acrobat of waste flew joltingly astray, tabloid clips scattering by a snap, intermittently ahead.

insignificant rubbish yet something out of it stands out, prominent.

sitting hands down, and dusting off debris, he clarified on the attraction. it is an old article yet somehow nostalgic, monumental. the news read, ‘GIRL RAVAGED BY WOLVES’

what provoked him for recollection was its similitude, an old tale, her grandma susie’s everlasting memory–memoirs of a struggle.

HOW DID THE STORY ENDS?

i just told you how.

**all children by heart, i call them lil’ susie.

DENN

Posted by Unknown 10:48 PM 0 comments