Sunday, December 12, 2010

Birthday in 160

my nephew is turning six
a milestone with emotions mixed.
He travels through life
with endless passion
and an abundance of energy
I wish I could cash in.


**It's hard to believe I have shared almost six years with my beautiful nephew already.  Time sure does fly.  If I were to ever have my own son, I'd want a replica of my nephew :) Happy Sunday, everyone.
this is a post for Sunday 160 hosted by Monkey Man. What can you say in 160 characters including your spaces?  I'm also linking up to One Stop's Sunday picture prompt.  check out the challenge here.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Snowing 160

Soft white butterflies
now cascading to earth
Oh such pretty
white flakes this cold gave birth
inches of silver torrent
nuzzle grass like a new
garment

** this is a post for Sunday 160 hosted by Monkey Man.  what can you say in 160 characters (including spaces)?  Give it a try :)

Thursday, December 2, 2010

where for art thou, summer? (55)

you could cut off my fingertips
and use them for ice
that's how cold it is;
Ms.Winter never plays nice.
my nose looks like
it is Rudolph's twin
and the coat I'm wearing
is much too thin.
If I must endure
I'll have to inquire
please warm me up
and start me a fire.

**this is a Friday Flash 55 hosted by Mr. Knowitall (G-man).  I think winter is making her entrance...

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Insomnia and Change

Restlessness takes hold
it's one am in the morning
a cyclone of thoughts
storm my mind in warning
as the tornado outside
my window is forming.
the rain beats down on my
windowsill and the wind
is loudly howling as I
lay in my bed, chaotic thoughts
seeping through closed eyes.
Visions of  the vintage past
mixed with what the future
could bring, the question remains-will I at last
be able to release what I endlessly grasp
and allow for the next unknown forecast?


*This is a One Shot Wednesday post.  Stop by for a visit if you're interested in posting some of your own delightful poetry and/or looking to read some delightful poetry from others.
*the photo came from the always faithful, "Google Images"

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

5 Hundred 25 thousand 6 hundred minutes...

5 hundred 25 thousand 6 hundred minutes
How do you measure your life in a year?
is it determined with laughter, forgiveness
or measured with your tears?

5 hundred 25 thousand 6 hundred minutes
How do you assess your life in a year?
with friendship and family
or trophies that you bare?

5 hundred 25 thousand 6 hundred minutes
How do you mark your life in a year?
with materials and treasures
or with love that you've shared?

5 hundred 25 thousand 6 hundred minutes
How do you size up your life in a year?
with volunteering and caring,
or ornamenting your hair?

in daylights with family, in seasons of love
in laughters and smiles, in friendships so dear
5 hundred 25 thousand 6 hundred journeys to plan
that's how a life should measure a year.

 
** This week, I did a little spin off of my favorite song from the musical Rent, "Seasons of Love".  If you'd like to listen to it, click here.  I'm posting this for Magpie Tales 41 and 42...I was a little too late to get in on 41 this week, so I figured I'd double up. Magpie tales is hosted by the ever talented, Willow.  I'll be posting this to One Shot Wednesday also, a great place for poets to write, read, and meet many talented others.  Hope everyone celebrating has a wonderful and blessed Thanksgiving holiday!

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Happy Thanksgiving (160)

pumpkin pies, turkey, rolls,
and sweet potatoes
these are a few of my
favorite things, but I
believe family-n-friends the reason
to be thankful this season.



**this is a Sunday 160 hosted by the delightful, Monkey Man.  What can you say in 160 characters (including spaces)?  Take a trip over there and try it out :)  Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.  P.S.  I found the pics on Google images...

Thursday, November 18, 2010

New job jitters...in 55

I have stretched my wings
and undone my solace belt,
then danced towards a
change that my heart felt.
and with this new direction
there does come loss
but also there is a little
growth I shall come across.
My fears, they will no
longer hold me back-
From this change, I
will not backtrack.

**I posted this for Friday Flash 55 hosted by the entertaining, G-Man.  In the next three weeks, I will be starting a new position at a completely new hospital.  Since I have only ever worked at my current hospital since becoming a nurse almost nine years ago, I'm a little nervous.  And very excited.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Rainy day running

A hazy mist blankets the sky.
sky of ashen cornflower cast,
cast a fall bronze, florid glow.
glow which blurs into the past.

amid the nipping humidity,
humidity that makes my hair curl,
curl the legs. One after the other
other after the other, my legs unfurl.

my heart begins to rush
rush of breaths entering my lungs
lungs open, breath deep
deep into my run I'm flung.

my mind starts to clear
clear the route for reflection.
reflection hints me towards harmony.
Harmony guides me to revolution.

And the past is blurred into the fog
fog that leaves the ashen mist;
mist perfect for a run, and I feel...
...feel like I'm Heaven kissed.

 **picture is from google images.
** this week, I tried playing with the Loop Poem form for One Shot Wednesday, an excellent place to post and read poetry.  Head over there to meet some fantastic writers :)

Monday, November 15, 2010

From Stone to Stone...

Born from a stone was he
the immortal, transforming monkey
king.
He challenged the emperor of Jade
the authority of heaven, earth, and sea
give him a powerful title, he bade.
The emperor granted his wish
but only as a mere stable aide
when the monkey realized
he'd been swindled
His trust in the kingdom
dwindled
he used his powers of
transformation
to wreak havoc on the
emperor's congregation.
when he couldn't be caught
and was victorious in
the battles he fought,
the kingdom finally agreed
to give him the title he sought.
But his mischievous nature
was too much to contain
so he began to cause trouble in
Heaven again.
The armies continued to forfeit
gaining control of this immortal pundit
so, the heavens begged for Buddha's aide
to stop the monkey's disastrous raid.
In the end, The monkey king lost
a wager with Buddha at a great cost.
He was banished to earth as it appears-
remaining pressed under a mountain for 500 years.

**this is a post for Magpie Tales 40 hosted by the wonderful, willow.  Go on a journey over there to discover some wonderfully talented writers and to post some of your own wonderfully talented writing...

Sunday, November 14, 2010

a moment's 160

Moments pass by quick
we must learn to enjoy each tick
don't stress about tomorrow
or get stuck in yesterday's sorrow.
yesterday is gone;
tomorrow may not come
 ** I borrowed the picture from Google :)

**this is a Sunday 160 hosted by Monkey Man.  What can you say in 160 characters (including spaces)?  If you'd like to play along or just want to visit and check it out, look around here.  It's challenging and fun!

Monday, November 8, 2010

He's no Al Capone...

What an arrogant pheasant
that cock is never pleasant
discounts all his faults
performs his cockerel waltz
chest puffed out, wing down
strutting around
like he's the only man in town
but a surprise is coming for our pal
he'll soon be a capon (no not Al)
for we all must surely know
meat is much tender once the testes go.

**I was doing a little research on roosters to get some ideas.  I learned something new.  Some roosters are purposely castrated-they call them capons.  This leads to making them more docile and causing them to become fat.  And this in turn makes the meat juicier and more tender-less stringy.

**this is a Magpie Tale hosted by the talented, Willow.  Visit here to post one of your own or to just enjoy reading the endless talent of the others.  You won't be disappointed.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

I've got the fever

my gore is soaked with mania
 fever came torching my brain
in a
sneaky, slow, attack on me
and brought with it a malady.
my teeth are quivering
delirium has me shivering
my skeleton is aching
my burning lungs are breaking
you can hear it in my bark
the flu is making its mark.
 ** the photo was found on google images...

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

"Smile...what's the use of crying?"

This orange slice smile is
my lips' life sentence
superficial as the epidermis
a fib to my quintessence
I paste on this expression
misrepresentation of my core
witnessed too much recession
for it to be much more.


**A poem for One Shot Wednesday.  Take a gander over there; it is a great place to post your poetry, get some feedback, meet some talented poets, and read some fantastic treats.
**the photo I am using is one I found on Google images.

Monday, November 1, 2010

The Rose and the Gravestone

I walk amongst the stones in the cemetery, gazing at the names and dates.  I love the graveyard; I find peace there among the dead.  It's full of history and I wished every tombstone came with an autobiography.  I even feel love here.

The fall air is brisk and clean.  Rippling around me, the light breeze tosses my hair back.  I pull my coat a little tighter.  My imagination is free and running wild.  What are these people's stories?  How did they die?  How did they live?  I wonder, did their dreams come true?  Did they die only after living a full life?  Were their days cut short, sudden?  I wish I could talk to them; I'd ask their advice on what they would do different.  I'd ask if they ever found the answer to the meaning of life.

I walk past a simple headstone reading "Sally...our beloved.  Born August 13th 1942, death August 16th 1942."  Sadness enveloped me momentarily.  I can only imagine the overwhelming grief of the parents.  Did the crib claim this precious gift?  I think about all the things that could have.  If only she'd been born this decade, her life may have been spared.

As I continue my leisured stroll, I come upon two twin headstones mere feet apart.  "George William Lee-born December 5th, 1975-died October 31st, 2009" was engraved into the first.  And in the second, "Deborah Jean Lee-born June 15th, 1976-died October 31st, 2009."   Was this a Romeo and Juliet tragedy?  A murder-suicide?  It could have been a tragic accident claiming both their lives.  Were they together still wherever their souls landed?  I imagined them hand in hand through life, death, and in their afterlife.

As the sun began to set, I'd realized I'd been walking, reading, thinking for hours.  It was time for me to go and I knew there was one more stone I needed to visit.  This stone's history I knew.  No matter how often I visited, It always took me a long time to work up the strength to make my way over.  Finally, I lifted my feet one by one in that direction.  As I lifted my eyes toward the stone, I caught a glimpse of his transparent silhouette sitting there.  My breath caught.  His eyes met mine, his face smiled, his hands held my favorite white rose.  I knew my imagination had been in overdrive for a few hours, so instinctively I blinked.  When my eyes opened, he was gone.

For just a second, I could have sworn he had been there.  Memories flooded my eyes.  He brought me a white rose on our first date, and I instantly fell in love with his smile.  A year later, we had white roses at our wedding, and a year later, we had white roses at his funeral.  I will never forget the night of our anniversary and the sound as he turned the car that fateful night to receive the impact of the oncoming devastation.  He saved my life in more ways than one, and now his was gone.

So, this is the place I visit him everyday.  I take a deep breath and walk towards the headstone.  I try to be strong for him; I've accepted his choice even though I miss him more with every passing minute.  I feel his presence more today than usual, but it must be my heart playing tricks on me.  I make it to his resting place.  And I see it.  There, where he was sitting moments ago in my imagination, lay a single white rose...



** this is a Magpie Tale (# 38 to be exact) and it is hosted by the marvelous, Willow.  Visit here to read some terrific posts and to post one yourself.  It is a great place for writers of all walks to hang out and/or post something of their own.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Happy Halloween...a family ghost story.

she was watching
"Friday the 13th" part I,
fearless on old Hallow's Eve.
Alone in the living room.
Babysitting her younger brother
who was at play in the basement.
Her mom's black penny loafers
resting at the bottom of the staircase
that lead from the living room
to the upstairs bedroom.
Suddenly they began to
step by step climb the stairs.
"clomp, clomp, clomp"
they slowly ascended.
Upon reaching the top, they
tumbled right back to the bottom.
Suddenly, a scream enveloped the room
as her younger brother came running
up from the basement.
A bright red hand print
spread boldly across his cheek.
"Something down there slapped me..."
________________________

They return home from their grown up
Halloween party.
The house is dark and quiet.
what had those kids been up to?
With a flick of his wrist, father
turns on the light upon entering the house
and mother screams at
the sight spread out before them....


**Happy Halloween.  My mother use to tell us all sorts of ghost stories that she witnessed in a little house growing up with her five brothers and sister.  She swears her mom's shoes ascended the stairs by themselves.  She swears her mom's purse lifted itself from the coffee table in front of her and her brother's eyes, she swears that her younger brother got slapped by an invisible spirit while playing in the basement alone, she swears doorknobs would spin by themselves, and she swears that some invisible person walked towards her in her bedroom one night that she was home alone...my gram invited a priest over, and he told them evil spirits were haunting the house and out to get my mom's soul.  Nice, huh?  Was my mom just a vivid storyteller...or did she grow up in a haunted little house with spirits wreaking havoc on her soul??

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Autumn 160

tis the season for pumpkins,
apple cider, and chicken dumplings
the weather still fairly warm
with the sun rays
but gets a bit chilly
by then end of the days


















**this is a post for Sunday 160 hosted by Monkey Man.  What can you say in 160 characters (including spaces)?  Try it and see.  Visit the original 160 here.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Exhaustion in 55...

my eyes are sagging and
my brain's buzzing dull.
I feel like there's
just a big rock in
my skull.

my arms and legs
they're tired and limp,
with no energy to share
i feel like a blimp.

Heck I don't even know
what i just said.
Guess I should really
just go to bed.

snoring cartoons, snoring cartoon, snoring picture, snoring pictures, snoring image, snoring images, snoring illustration, snoring illustrations

write something in 55 words, post it, and then go tell G-Man by visiting here.  He hosts the weekly Friday Flash 55 :)

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

A Bee's Romance

He flew courageously
around the feast
meticulous in his task
persistently coming back.
with each swish of 
my hand, he would dodge
and soon return to land
on my plate to steal a 
piece for his own.
I watched intrigued
as he gathered
a small bit of 
tomato with his claws
and tucked it securely
in his jaws.
Off he flew 
and I could only 
imagine he was taking 
the prize to his queen.
Returning for seconds
this time gathering
a small broccoli
floret and tucking it
away, flying away to 
the receiver of his gift.
making a final attempt
he snagged a 
piece of cheese
as my salad disappeared
before my eyes.
What a romantic
display of loyalty and
affection I was privy to 
witness as a little
yellow jacket risked
life and wing
to take a few treasures
to his queen.
bee
** I found this beautiful photo on picsearch.com.  

**At lunch during work today, we ate outside to enjoy the beautiful weather.  I had a yellow jacket companion who had the same idea.  I had no idea bees were interested in human food, but he stole right from my plate three times-he even nibble on my leftover chicken breast-as I was watching.  Each time flying off with his prize only to return for more...that's bravery.  His hive's honey may be tasting a little tomato-ey this year.  He's lucky it was my plate he gathered from; I'm afraid anyone else might have ended his thieving days.  

**this is a post for One Shot Wednesday.  Visit here to post some of your own creativity and read some other fantastic pieces.  It's a great place to go for community and encouragement.  

Monday, October 11, 2010

The unsaved [life] text

A life altering moment
a lesson learned too late
she drove along
the highway
right hand on the
steering wheel, left hand
on her cell phone
sending a text to Meg
about the boy in
the grocery store.
her heart aflutter
with excitement, then
a quick peek and a
stolen glance of blaring red
lights too close to avoid
brakes screeching, unsuccessful.
steering wheel turned hard right
the car flipping and turning
the sound of metal
crushing like a beer can,
glass breaking, bones breaking
heart breaking...
and the last things she
saw were the beautiful
wet leaves smashed
on her severed
windshield just before
the lights went out.
the text left unsent...

**this is a magpie tale hosted by the wonderful, Willow.  Visit here to read some amazing pieces and meet some great writers.  Join in the fun.

**Time i spend in the emergency room of hospitals has opened my eyes to the many preventable child and teen tragedies; it's always a heartbreaking scene.  Hopefully, some day, we can educate them enough to convince them that they too are mortal.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

The fair in 55

They will fry you anything
at the good ole county fair
snickers, bananas, butter
they'd probably fry some air.

You'll see all kinds of folks
at the good ole county fair
a variety of unique souls
and boy, the clothes some wear.

Be sure to ride the ferris wheel
at the good ole county fair.

  


**Went to the fair tonight and ate way too much food...but isn't that the purpose of going?  Playing along with Friday 55 today-hosted by the always entertaining, G-man.  Visit his blog here.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

birthdays and memories

Today is your birthday.
Your flame having
been quenched
leaves only memories
lingering in my mind.
Memories of the
fire for life you
dazzled me with.
My psyche is engulfed
with cherished images
of a childhood
full of giggling,
hugs, and cookie
making. 
oh, those summer
weekends at Gramma's.
I remember your smell
the feel of your arms
and the way
the spark in your eyes
revealed your love
as a blazing lantern
reveals a darkened path.
I miss you still.



**My grandma (my dad's mom) died 13 years ago, today is her birthday, and it's still hard to imagine her not around. She left an impact on our whole family.  Her "family" cheeks, her smile, the love she showed for the grandkids, the passion she had at keeping the family together.  She was a wonderful woman and I am so blessed to have my childhood memories of her forever a part of me. I wrote this for Magpie Tales 34 hosted by the wonderful, Willow.  Stop by and check out some pretty terrific writing!

Sunday, October 3, 2010

A tree's point of view (160)

they said it was impossible
that I could grow right here
they said I'd never make it
that i wouldn't dare
between a rock-n-hard place
I still don't have a care

**during an exhilarating hiking trip today, I came upon this cute little tree in a very odd spot.  It just reminded me of something that is surrounded by hardness and is still flourishing.  Nature's daily lesson.  What can you say in 160 characters? This is a post for Sunday 160 hosted by Monkey Man.  Visit here to try it yourself, see what it's about, and read a few more :)

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Ode to the toothbrush (160)

If you think you've got it bad
think about the toothbrush 
and the jobs it has had
cleaning our teeth 
and toilet stains too
I think I'd rather live 
as a shoe.



**this is a post for Sunday 160 hosted by Monkey Man.  It's fun...try it sometime :)

Saturday, September 25, 2010

There Once was a Girl with a Curl....

     My sister, Cindy, was always a bad child and was born with super human strength.  My grandpa always tells the story of how she would walk around at the age of two and three pushing furniture out of her way with her bare hands.  Maybe she had a chemical imbalance or she was just born thinking the world owed her.  Even today, in her adult form, she acts like the world is in debt to her at times.  My sister started smoking cigarettes at two, yes two, years old.  It started out that she would raid the ash trays, pick up half-lit cigarettes, and imitate our parents.  She must have imitated rather well, for she became addicted and the cravings would throw her into a rage.  The doctors told my mom to let her smoke one cigarette a day if it would calm her down.  I bet you wouldn't hear them saying that to parents today.  But everyday, in the afternoon, my sister would be given her daily smoke.

     I was three, so it's not easy for me to say if the cigarette therapy was effective.  I do remember that she continued to bring mischief and chaos into the house.  One particular afternoon, we were playing in the dining room.  A bar and two bars stools also occupied space there at the time.  My mother was about 10 or 15 feet away in the living room.  Cindy yelled in and asked my mom for some cookies, and my mom told her not until after dinner.  Well, you never told Cindy no and not expect a fight.  She called out to my mom, "You're not my boss!  I can have whatever I want!"  My dad was always used as a weapon for Mom, and she threatened my sister with him at this time.  "Wait until your father gets home!"   I guess my mom had no reason to fear a little three year old, but she was not expecting to have to dodge a bar stool.  My sister had picked it up with her super-human strength and flung it at my mom when her back was turned.  I remember yelling out a warning, and my mom successfully dodged the bullet.

I don't remember what happened to my sister that night, but I'm sure she got the paddle.  I never could get her to realize if she just bent over and let it happen, that she'd only get one whack.  No, she had to kick, scream, and squirm.  She made it harder on herself, but she always went out with a fight.

I remember the day she took my grandma's bright red lipstick and colored all over her white bedroom furniture.  There was the day that she stabbed me in the back with a pencil.  More spankings...I don't think there were many days she didn't get a spanking.  And the episode where she took pen and wrote my name all over our white walls.  I was punished by being made to scrub the walls with soap and a sponge.  I 'm not sure why my parents didn't believe I was telling the truth when I said I didn't do it.  My sister finally fessed up about an hour later after the guilt wore her down.  She did love me, and I guess she had a conscience after all.

There was one afternoon that her temper tantrums almost cost her her life.  She had been quiet for a little while and when my mom finally found her hidden in my grandma's bedroom, she sat on the floor with an empty perfume bottle in her overly sweet smelling hands.  She was slick from head to toe and smelled like a "speak easy," my mom recalled.  My mom gave her a spanking and set her on the couch for time out.  This did not bode well for her temper.  She sulked and festered, even when my aunt came in and offered to take us with her for a walk.  Cindy huffily told us that she wasn't going, so my aunt and I started out the door and across the street.  It was a four lane city road right outside our house, and as we got about half way across, we heard my mom scream my aunt's name.  My sister had run out of the house screaming right into the middle of the street in the path of an oncoming 16-wheeler.  It blew its horn at the same time that my aunt turned around, letting go of my hand, and rushed to grab and throw my sister out of the truck's deadly path.  It happened within a few brief seconds, the truck sped by, the three of us all safe.

My sister received quite a spanking that day, and then shortly after a doctor's appointment for a mental health evaluation.  My mom was becoming terrified of what she was capable of doing even at four years of age.  The docs didn't do much, they simply told my parents she needed lots of supervision and discipline.  They said she would outgrow her tantrums and nasty fits.  And she did, for the most part.  She continues to smoke, she will always have a cranky attitude, she will always argue with anyone who varies from the way she sees life, but she did turn into a mom, a wife, and a person that loves to lend a hand to someone in need.  A sociopath she did not become, but she sure was a bad child.



** I posted this for Magpie tales 33 when the photo brought back memories of my sister and her mischief as a child.  Visit Magpie Tales hosted by Willow to read some great stories and poems, or post your own!

  

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Madness of Poe

"Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream"
asked Edgar Allan Poe.

How clever and rational was Poe
heard a raven speak it would seem.
could it merely have been his dream?

did death and horror occupy this dream?
Maybe he was tormented, this Poe
or somewhat mad it would seem.

It would seem the dream to be a muse for Poe.





**this is a post for One Shot Wednesday, a great place for poets.  Visit the link to submit a poem or to simply read some fantastic poems by some pretty terrific writers.  This week, I was checking out some poetry forms and decided to try a form called Tritina ( I think it may also be known as a Sonnetina).  It was challenging...still not sure about the last line...but it was fun to try.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

National Neonatal Nurses' Day

time is not a promise

Her golden-hued curls 
always caught the 
sunlight
just right and her
white chicklet smile
could stop your heart 
when she aimed it 
at you,
eyes of emerald 
that sparkled when a 
moment of laughter 
over came her
which was quite often.
As a child of 
innocence 
with a mind full 
of curiosity
she was the star 
of her world,  
as she was the star
of her parent's world.
But it took only 
a moment
for the star's twinkle 
to fade 
and for a world 
to be
permanently altered
without warning
or reason,
when disease attacks
ravaging innocence
rendering parents 
to their knees
because they
assumed many
more days and 
a bright future
awaited.
But without apology,
suffering revealed 
it's deceitful face
and with it
brought death- 
A loss unexplainable
and sudden.
How will they deal
with such pain?
And the rest of us-
we're left heavy-hearted
but grateful 
for every minute
we have left 
with our loved ones.




**this is a poem for Oneshot Wednesday and imperfect prose.  The pediatric ICU was a sad place today as a healthy five year old was ravaged by an unknown infection this week that took her life unexpectedly.   My heart's been heavy and my thoughts have been with this family all day today.   



Sunday, September 12, 2010

Peanuts 160

Was Lucy's middle name fur?
That's what I named my cat
who reminds me of her. 
she tortures her friends 
not making amends
calling them blockheads 
in the end.
Peanuts - September 12, 2010

**this is a Sunday 160 hosted by Monkey Man.





Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Hobbies of an apple

A hypocrite of sorts,
you play both sides.
Your outter beauty
will lure anyone in.
and you know it
in the vain way you
hang around.
The delicious scent
you drown yourself in
and your promise
of fulfillment
is too much temptation
for any hungry soul.
You say you will
keep the doctor away
but you've spent
your time
poisoning princesses
and tempting Eve
into sin against
her own father.
you remind me
of someone I know.

This was posted for Magpie Tales 30.  Take a peek at the link to read more terrific writing and join in the fun :)

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The Puppet Master

you keep on speaking the words
empty words like evaporated
water with no meaning elicit
feelings of false hope
and short-lived joy.
why continue to
breath such lies
why continue
to believe
such lies?
In the
short
moments
it takes
for you
to reel me
back in, you
are already
turning
to run
away.
Like
a puppet
on a string
I continue
to follow your
lead, waiting in
anticipation for your
next move, hoping soon
for you to cut loose the thread
that binds me mercilessly to you.



**this is a poem for One Shot Wednesday- a great place for poets and writers to meet.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

My best friend's dad

When I was a little girl, my sister and I shared a best friend.  Her family became our family, her dad became like a dad to us.  Recently, he passed away and I was unable to attend his funeral because of work responsibilities.  I wanted to share a little piece of our story.

The three of us always knew we were suppose to be best friends. Wendy was 5, my sister 6, and I was 7 years old when we were introduced by our dads.  Our birthdays went June, July, and August.  And both our dads were named George.  Wendy's dad, George, was a hard working and rich, but kind and funny human being.  He loved his daughter immensely and that love spilled over to us.  His one downfall...he drank beer.  A lot.  It never made him mean or abusive, only extra goofy.  He always made us laugh and as kids, we just accepted his drinking as part of who he was.

Wendy's family lived in an old farmhouse and that's where most of my childhood memories yield from.  Every weekend, George would swing by, pick up my sister and me, and we would head to the old farmhouse.  We would spend winter evenings with him riding us around on a snow mobile through their acres and acres of grapes.  We would spend summer days jumping on the trampoline, playing in the big barn, or swimming in their pool.  He would spend weekends taking us camping or to amusement parks.

One particular weekend, when I was probably eleven, George was taking us three girls around with him on some errands.  He stopped by the motel he owned to check on a few things.  It was a small place with a few tenants, and most of them were friends and family.  All were aware that George was a drinker. We visited at the motel for about an hour or so, and by this time, George had been given plenty to drink.  A few of the grown-ups helped him stumble to the car and placed him behind the wheel.  Us girls jumped in and buckled up; I don't remember feeling any danger having him behind the wheel.  I guess that was my child's view of immortality.

The car started with a turn of the key, but as George placed it in reverse, he couldn't get it to move.  He tried again. and again.  The car wouldn't budge.  Some of the men took a look under the hood, but there was nothing amiss.  So, George put it in drive and tried.  Nothing.  At this time, Wendy-who was probably about age nine-asks, "Dad, are you stepping on the gas or the brake?"  George gives a chuckle, and says "well, that's exactly what I have been doing, stepping on the brake."

That gave us a good laugh, but us kids-not the grown-ups-thought that maybe George shouldn't be driving us the 2 miles it would take to get home.  He quickly agreed, and then said Wendy should drive us home.  Of course, this is the greatest thing he could ask a nine year old, and she wasn't about to refuse.  He sat her in front of his lap and she grabbed a hold of the wheel bursting with excitement.  He worked the pedals since she couldn't reach, but she handled the steering wheel like a champion.  It was the most exciting thing that ever happened any of us.  The roads were dark and there was no traffic; there was also no fear between the three of us girls.  We were having fun.  Ten minutes later, we arrived home, safe and sound, to the old farmhouse.  All four of us made a pact never to mention this to Wendy's mom.  And we never did, but we did add another unforgettable memory to the bank.



**I wrote this for Magpie Tales 29 in memory of a man whom I considered very special to me.  I don't have one memory of him being unkind, abusive, or angry.  I remember him as a happy, generous, hard working man who loved his family-even the extended one.  As kids we didn't see how dangerous his alcoholism was-it surely had a hand in what killed him.  Though, I only remember him showing us nothing but unconditional love.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

short description of my vacation in 160

discovered I love riding bikes in the sand
walks on the beach helped with my tan
swimming at night never got bland
Flirting with dolphins-oh how grand


***this is a Sunday 160.  Visit Monkey Man to see the rules and play along...or just to read some more.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

sunday 160-the homeless

A beggar on the street corner
dirty clothes and smelling of swine
while cars, they just drive on by.
He probably needs a helping hand
-maybe it should be mine.

**this is a Sunday 160 sponsored by Monkey Man.  Head over there to take a peek, read a few, and maybe try it for yourself.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Six word Saturday

~~~ Five days until I'm vacation bound ~~~~



**describe your life in six words...Show My Face is the home of the original SWS...click the above button for more!

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

A life destroyed

Upon entering the room, the crowing was remarkable
with each labored breath he took.
The oxygen mask to his face, his neck sinking in
with each inhalation.
You would think I was describing an old man,
a smoker of the majority of his days.
But no, he is merely a seven month old
who fell to the destructive hands of his dad.
A beautiful boy with a full life ahead
suddenly destroyed by the anger
of a man who lacked patience.
The rest of his days will be spent
locked in a body that does not function
with a mind that does not see or hear.
He eats through the tube in his belly and
will soon receive a tube in his trachea
to help him breath.
And while he is locked in his body,
his dad will spend his days locked in a cell.
But is it fair that he will be able to see, hear,
breath through his nose,
and eat with his mouth?



**this is a post for Magpie Tales.  Click the link to read some terrific writers and try it out for yourself.
I'm also posting this to Oneshot Wednesday where some very talented writers meet :)

Sunday, August 1, 2010

A walk in the Woods-Sunday 160

"Crunch crunch"
the gravel chatters under my feet.
"Swshh swshh"
The breeze whispers around my head,
as I walk the wooded damp path-my
favorite sunday activity.




**This is a Sunday 160.  Visit Monkey Man for more and to try it out yourself :)

Saturday, July 31, 2010

annoying caller! -Six word Saturday.

late night unknown caller-I'm curious?



I had five calls last night from 11:30p until 2:15am and my caller id said "restricted."  I didnt' answer because I knew if it was so important, they would leave a message.  And if it was someone I knew, they wouldn't have restricted their call.  Plus, I've checked in on everybody today and all is well.  But why so determined to keep calling...do people have nothing better to do with themselves then to stay awake for hours dialing the same number?  And what if I would have answered?  Would they have tried to spook me?  Well, that is why I didn't.  I don't plan on playing into anyone's sick little jokes, and maybe not for my own good, but I don't spook too easy.  It just got a bit annoying, and my enquiring mind would really like to know who it was.  But, I guess I will see what takes place tonight and see if this is going to be an ongoing thing that I may have to take care of or just someone's idea of one time fun on a boring night.

**this is my 6 word Saturday.  Click the button to see more

Thursday, July 29, 2010

What a crappy day...literally

 So things have been going too good, lately.  I knew disaster was waiting to happen.  That's sad that I have that expectation, but I know how things roll in my life.  This past week, I have been so busy, working a lot to save money for my upcoming vacation.  and everything was falling into place.  Until two days ago.  My sewer pump failed.  Third time in the past 4 years.  Yeah, that's what I'm thinking too.  Well, in 2006-the first time I replaced it-it was a whopping 450 dollars...2010-inflation stuck it's tongue out at me, and it cost me 980 dollars!  I say just let the sewage run into my back yard-free fertilizer.  But I think the city might condemn me for that.  Those things are a necessary evil and it has really made for not a great day.  But I had a choice to make-be able to take a shower or go on vacation with a nice cushion of green.  I made the sensible choice and replaced the pump.  Hopefully, I can still vacate...it'll just have to be with a lot less cushion.  I'm seeing a lot of frozen pizza for the next week.  Now I gotta go catch up on some blog reading.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

It's HOT outside! (Sunday 160)

Melting clouds and pickled grass
this heat has just been plainly crass
I'd like to shed my skin and play in my bones
and eat a couple of ice cream cones.


**this is a post for Sunday 160.  Visit Monkey Man to take the challenge and read more!

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Six Word Saturday

~attempting to bake a pound cake~
**describe your life in six words. Click on the button above for more info**

Thursday, July 22, 2010

My day....

I flew within the clouds today
the scenery taking my breath away

I transported a sick little baby
she had to fly along with me.

Later, I found a couch for sale
plus a chair...what a deal.

I'm sleepy now; it's been a time.
I need to rest this brain of mine.  

**I got to ride in the helicopter today.  The scenery in the mountains was gorgeous, and we even flew through a little rain shower.  Being in a helicopter is completely different from  a plane.  You feel every shift in wind.  It's been a busy day and it just keeps going.  I'm hoping to get to sleep soon because I get to start over and do it all again tomorrow.  Well, except for the couch bargain hunting-instead I'll probably find myself heading to the grocery store after my 12+ hour shift...


Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Grandma

Her voice was as harsh as a frog's song,
but her heart was soft as melting butter
and her smile was free for the taking.

in her youth, her skin was as porcelain,
ruby lips and eyes of sparkling granite. 
but age brought with it the raisin
and eyes-the faded loss of hope.

Family held her heart and kept it beating
but her old mind told her she was useless.
The years mocked her and she found illness-
illness that was never there.

A stranger, though , she never met.
Her tongue-it would ignore no one.
If you would sit for hours-
for hours she would talk.

Through a stranger's eyes
she portrayed a laughing, charming jewel.
But what those close came to know
 revealed a sadness she couldn't beat.  

Her peace for life has since been found
When several months ago
we placed her in the ground.
Laughter, joys, and tears filled her days
but thoughts would not release the fear.
A heart of gold, a deep love for her family...
If only her mind would have let her be.

** this post is in memory of my beloved gram, even though she was a hypochondriac and complained of being unloved and unwanted (she just couldn't seem to get enough attention)...she didn't let if keep her from showing us (her family) that she loved us.  we knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we were the most important people in her life.  This was written for One Shot Wednesday.  Take a peek at the link to read some great poets.  



Tuesday, July 20, 2010

what a sweet award :)

One of my favorite bloggers, Sheri, honored me with an award the other day.  She, herself, inspires me and always has a positive and upbeat outlook on life even when times are not so upbeat.  Her comments on my posts this past year have really helped my heart to stitch itself back together...thanks, Sheri!  I'm honored that you thought to award me with this lovely award


There are a few rules to go along with this award.  They are:

1.  Thank and link back to the person that gave you the award.

2.  Share 7 things about your self.

3.  Pass the award to 9 fellow bloggers that inspire you.

4.  Let them know about the award. :-)

Well, here goes 7 things about me:

1.  I almost died at the age of 7 when my appendix ruptured.  I acquired VAP (ventilator assisted pneumonia) during my surgery and the doctors told my parents they didn't expect me to make it through the night.  But, here I am :)

2.  I have to try hard on a daily basis to not offend someone with my sarcasm.  I like to call it witty, but people take things so seriously, especially if it's aimed at them.  They just shouldn't make it so easy ;)

3.  My parents have been together for almost 37 years.  I am a "daddy's girl"; always have been.  My mom and I never had a real close relationship.  But now that we have both grown up, we get along a lot better.  

4.  I am only the 2nd person out of my whole family (mom and dad's sides) that has a college education.  I guess I took inspiration from my dad's sister, who joined the army to pay for college and then went on to be a nurse.

5.  I love to photograph just about anything and find something artistic about it.  I have a lot to learn about the ins and outs of photography, but I'm working on it.  

6.  I have a mental "to do" list, sort of like a bucket list, of things I want to do.  I have accomplished snorkeling, sky diving, parasailing, white water rafting, and canoeing to name a few.  A few things remaining on my to do list: learning to ride a motorcycle, bungee jumping, ziplining, deep sea diving, and selling an original photograph.  

7.  I have a very unique family.  They give me some great ammo for funny story telling, and my friends think I need to write a book about them.  I've actually had people ask me how I turned out so normal surrounded by the family I was raised in.   Don't get me wrong-I have a great family, but they definitely walk off the beaten path.  

And so now to nominate a few recipients of this award:
KB, who has such a great outlook on life and deserves this award, JennyMac who makes me laugh daily with her stories and way with words; I always look forward to her posts, Mimi who is my newest blogger friend and I'm looking forward to getting to read more of, Jingle who always makes me smile with such upbeat and sweet little stories, and last but not least, Sparkle Star who was my very first blogger friend when I wasn't writing such happy thoughts.   Yes, I know that's only five :)


Thanks, again, Sheri for such a sweet award.  I'm so glad to have "met" you! 

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Magpie 23-Rescued

I thought the circumstance dire
as my nostrils flooded with smoke.
I became cautious as I sensed the fire.

Could it have been a rotten wire
that may have cracked or broke?
He came and to his arms I did retire.

My breathing began to tire
as I began to gasp and choke
I became cautious as I sensed the fire.

The air was getting drier
and my lungs began to revolt,
He came and to his arms I did retire.

The feeling of safety had been a liar
And I wished this was just a joke.
I became cautious as I sensed the fire.

As time began to expire,
My hero threw me a rope
I became cautious as I sensed the fire
He came and to his arms I did retire.



This was written for Magpie Tales.  Click the link to read some terrific writers or to post something of your own.

Sunday 160-so much to do...

So much there is to think about
in a life full of hope and doubt.
Thoughts venture round and round
peace is looking to be found.
I think i need to slow down.



This is for Sunday 160.  Go here to see the rules and/or to  find some other great 160's.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

My new car!


It was a successful shopping trip and this is what I came home with. I still can't believe how smooth and quick everything went.  It took less than 2 1/2 hours.  I may wake up tomorrow thinking I had a good dream.  I think I'm in love a little ;)  32MPG in city and 40mpg highway.  

Six word Saturday




~time to shop for another car~



**This is a post for six word Saturday. Describe your life in six words and see SWS for the guidelines.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Sad tale in baby world.

We had horrible storms on Tuesday-tornado warnings included.  The rain came fast and the wind blew hard, flooding the streets quickly.

A young mom was driving with her 3-week-old baby in the back seat "securely" placed in his car seat.  The water on the road was too much and she hydroplaned flipping the car twice and landing it in a shallow creek.  Unfortunately, the shoulder straps on the infant were not properly fastened and the little guy slipped out of the car and into the moving water.  It took rescue thirty minutes to find him and they did all they could for him to no avail.  We were on our way to get the baby from the smaller hospital that he was being rushed to, but he didn't survive long enough for us to get to him.

It makes me sad that this pitiful young mother had so much faith in a safety device, but because she didn't know how to properly secure the infant-it failed her and the baby.  This has inspired me to take a car seat safety training course and participate in the car seat safety clinics offered all across this region for new parents.  It really does matter...

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Leaving the Eye

Life's storm will rage and blow
and in its path, destruction show.
I like to reside in its eye
where the calm and quiet sigh

The storm of life will cause bad dreams
of sights and sounds obscene
I choose to remain in its eye
where the calm and quiet sigh.

The eye of the storm is a place to wade
if chaos and risk make you afraid.
So I plan to stay in the eye
where the calm and quiet sigh.

Alas, I must break from my life's diet
of absolute peace and quiet.
For if I fail the storms embrace, 
my happiness will lose its place.
Therefore I must depart the eye
where the calm and quiet sigh.

***This was written for One Stop Wednesday.  Click the link to be amazed by some really great poets!  

Monday, July 12, 2010

playtime and dead bodies...A childhood memory :)

Childhood summers held something magical for us.  You could find us on the front porch playing make believe.  Sitting on the creaky splintered porch swing, we might be staring across the street and looking beyond acres and acres of leafy grape vines.  Some days we could be found walking the country roads tarry from the sun.  The heat, the sun bright above in the sky, and the sweat beading our little faces never convinced us to stay inside.

My best friend, my sister, and I had quite vivid imaginations then.  One particular day, we sat on the porch watching the train roll by several miles beyond the grapes.  We could hear the chugging of the locomotive from the distance and the horn of the engine.  For some unknown reasons, trains captivated us at such a young age.  What was going on in there-were there people riding?  As we were pondering life's great question, we heard a loud "BANG", brakes squealing, and the train slammed to a stop-well as quickly to a stop as a train can.

We jumped, our mouths open wide.  We only knew in our overly active minds that whatever happened wasn't anything good.  Our thoughts were whirling and our hearts pumping.  "I bet someone has been shot!" Wendy, my friend, says, "Bet the train has been taken over by bad guys."   Now our minds are in a tailspin.  "We need to investigate," I say.  From there our plan of action was to arm ourselves with weaponry before the journey ahead of us, so we head inside to prepare.  We found some belts and several water guns.   After securing our guns in the belts, we were ready.

We headed outside, determined to find the shooter and bring him to justice.  We made our way through the grapevines.  Twirling twisted wires wrapped in leafy grapes awaited us.  We slowly walked through the rows, guns in hand, scoping out for anything suspicious.  Suddenly, "What's that?"  my sister, Cindy, cries.  Several feet in front of us, sprawled on the ground, lay a mound of unidentifiable brown.

"I bet that's the dead body!" exclaimed Wendy.  "or the killer crouching," I whisper.  Our thudding hearts could be heard throughout the vines.  We were petrified to take a closer look, but too curious not too.  After all, we had come prepared.  Slowly inching towards the figure, we held our breaths.  As we came upon it, our breathing released in a thud-or maybe an ugh-as what we saw transformed into a pile of dead grass and leaves.  Depleted and disappointed, we headed back towards the house, our adventure over.  Within minutes, the train slowly begins to pick up speed in the distance.  The horn sounding once again.  We started back to the porch swing, no dead body discovered and no shooter captured, but leaving with us a memory that will last a life time.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Sunday 160...learn your skills please!

the babies were fine at this job of mine;
the  floor nurses-a different story.
all day long they did nothing but whine
"come do our job and give us the glory."




***This is a Sunday 160.  What can you say in 160 characters?  Check out Monkey Man for other great writers and to take the challenge.