
BURSTING

Syrian Angels
innocence is beauty.
“Mr President, we don’t support your policy on refugees. An open letter from Global Citizens: Dear President Trump, Around the world, 8 million Global Citizens are proudly citizens of both their nations, and the whole world. Four million of us are in the United States of America, and today, we want to convey our deep disappointment and disagreement in your Executive Order on “extreme vetting of refugees”. As Global Citizens, we know that opposing viewpoints are a vital part of any robust political discussion. We work with all sides of politics to ensure that governments continue play a leading role in ending extreme poverty. However, there are also basic values that we believe are foundational to the fabric of American democracy – like not discriminating on the basis of religion and nationality. You crossed that line through your Executive Order on refugees. Refugees are the most vulnerable fellow citizens on our planet, fleeing unimaginable horrors of conflict, persecution and disaster. Americans know this, because we have repeatedly opened our arms to those seeking safety – those fleeing the Holocaust, the Cuban Revolution, Communism, and dictators over decades. American leadership created the Refugee Convention, and today, you are walking away from it by instigating a policy that explicitly discriminates on the basis of religion and nationality. Your Executive Order suspends immigration to the U.S. from seven countries, each with a Muslim majority – Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, and Yemen. You stated that this not a ban on Muslims – however you made a specific exemption for those of a “minority religion” in each of these countries – a phrase that can only be interpreted to exclude Muslims. Mr. President, a refugee is a vulnerable human being, regardless of faith or nationality. America already employs the most stringent vetting and background checks for refugees on the planet. Your Executive Order tars citizens of these countries with the accusation of terrorism. None of the perpetrators of the major US terrorist attacks carried out in the name of Islam in the past 15 years have come from the nations specified in the executive order. Your stated reason for the policy is untrue, unfair, and un-American. It walks away from decades of American leadership on refugees, and in fact increases the dangers of terrorism. It goes against the very words that welcomed successive generations of those fleeing persecution to our shores at the Statue of Liberty: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore, send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me: I lift my lamp beside the golden door.” Mr. President, we call on you to reverse course immediately”
Yours sincerely, Global Citizens
blood lines <3
Creative Havens takes you on in-depth tours of Syrian artists’ studios in Syria and abroad, with accompanying interviews. They are a place to celebrate Syrian art as well as “a cry of hope launched towards the blue of the sky.”
via Creative Havens: Syrian Artists And Their Studios — Discover
art on top of art
collage of worth
hindsight missed values have stocked up a fortress of inability
stocked with vulnerability
all the characteristics facing a mirrored image of trustability
critiquing every state of mind
alone at night
thoughts pacing from the choices
here I am
basking under the masked view of society
I cant breathe because its capturing me
eye contacts got me
comparing all the disgusting parts that I be
skinned from all the past thats left because I flee’d
un-authored
I have a creation
it only wants to be free
epic embodied the very kept secrets to leave
I might be the most evolved part of me
its layers have fallen off my tree
branches crumbling to find the clearness to see
rubbing my eyes away from each strain falling into my sea
waves battling the ocean
I still believe
in something that will find the breathtaking need
I know what is soul
I know what is safe
I know what can make my breathes regain conciousness
a very suddle understanding
of the pain that has left me here to indulge
in the alcohol
the courageous steps unfolding
to give up
the will to make matter unveil it self from every hoax
I am evaporating into the average
transfer of energy
becoming a moment that was not meant to be
hoping for favor
from everyone around me that I can see
a big red bubble bursting at the make believe
I want to prove all of them wrong
I want to be the butterfly
flying with ease
connections trying to vacat the edges
of the waking eve
sundrops kissing the little leaves
landing for the spaces we forgot to see
crumbs of words
a bad taste in your mouth
acting irratic
to roll off the tongue and hit your heart
violens will be playing and basking from all the truth
the ever after sounds will begin to move
beats stacking on like words coming to a hault
this is a forever blessing
you cant give up in your heart
power is a sure dressing like color to fulfill
what is coming with rain
will leak down your front door
I will burst through any seam and find the right flavor
to mend a very worthy treasure
we can only explore
Rainbow warrior

sweet honey meets my lips
steam
fighting the urge to believe
breathtaking
cream
re – meeting all the ones that frequent my heart
cleaned
with each fulfilling lean I turn to create my own yummy team
independent thrust
I am my own logical love at best
addicted to the sun addicted to the sex addicted to the attention
the beats typing a certain amount of words per minute
its all going to change
every little piece so we tend to cling
like a lost sense
my favorite is mine
each magnificent thought is what re aligned
i get so caught up in the motion
so indulged by the mess
i like to get high
to relieve my stress
when the solitude gets a hold of me
all i do is attach
like a flaw
with a flow
in a frustrating world
misunderstood
like heaven
like haven
mistaken.
but more or less just leaving photo footprints and chills up my spine sleeping in till noon and watching everyone else wither by my side addicts all around me broken lovers trapped in their minds, an un organic kind. tragic ending up to a dotted line. when you cant understand whats up with the mental and whats indulging about leaving paths of pills
spirits uninhibited an aura that has no life
so whats going to save them. its not going to be me. whats going to happen when everything just ends up exactly where you let it be.
we have all got a passion
lets all call it peace
everyone has their own niche
tight ass pants curved to my hips. i am guilty of each time I shared my lips.
GO GO GO
i am gone
i wont ever settle i will never be owned i am myself before anyone else’s so forget what never was written in stone
a cool hot wind
a valued blend
lets rush for the sweet nothings and pride our selves on what we let go
spread love to the most almighty
only mindful of how i can be without you showing me what i deserve
i am my greatest passion
lets fulfill how increased one moment can create us to
mooooaaaaannnnn

justify your city. AVL.
Fake Id’s, house parties, swimming holes, local music, and southern twang. This is how I remember Asheville, North Carolina. I guess the 90’s and early 2000’s have a lot to be said by this. I have been observing. It has been seven years since I lived in Asheville, NC. Where I grew up! Isaac Dickson, Asheville Middle School and Asheville High status. My mom worked downtown at Interplanet Janet, Lava, Honeypot and Hunk; so I was a downtown little baby. Trouble making it with my friends. I like to think we are notorious. That the people I am introduced to know all my old friends and we have all this Appalachian moss memory to look back to. What can I say southerners like me take pride in where they come from. I have been roaming around the mountains of the Rockies for five years and pub-lifeing it in Denver, Colorado. I have mixed feelings about the new Asheville after so long. Oh downtown how you hold on to a grasp of ‘what used to be’. The favorites have for sure stayed : Lexington Avenue yummys, Honeypot, Bouchan, Minx, Flipside, and Hip Replacements. The classics, Wasabi, Malaprops, Tupelo Honey, Laughing Seed and Jack of the Wood. I will give a shout out to Wicked Weed, The SkyBar and The National; for showing me a good time on the weekends since I got back. Also Dobra tea for making me mellow about the new. It is not that I am against the evolution of Asheville or the pace letting our economy get larger and more valuable. It is just that the vibe downtown is different. I tried to check out the new club on College street, but it was a mistake! It was empty, ratchet and this girl tried to fight me when I went up to the bar for a water. The parking is ridiculous and you can hardly walk through the streets now! Even the parking garages are full. Cops are every where! I suppose this is because we are trying to be a beer capital to the country. But why are we jamming so much in to such a small space. Do we not keep our roots sacred enough to value the small-ness and originality of Asheville? One must contemplate why it is so hard for a old school local like me to find a job. With that of coarse I praise on knowing the right people. I want the rustic freak Asheville back. The laid back flow that the wind held through the streets of Pack Square and the cobble stones of Wall Street. As locals we should encourage each other to be involved in not letting any sort of oppression happen to Weird Asheville. I am not hating nor bragging, I know a lot of business owners around town are competing with corporations moving closer and closer to there buildings. Urban Outfitters can suck it and needs to go back to the mall. I have also over heard a Starbucks that is inconsideration of being built close to Pritchard Park. Remember petitions and boycotting isn’t extinct. Its quite frisky if you ask me. Join the Kitten Revolution. Spread Love thats what a real mob do.
See you around!