♥ A Review One of the great advantages of having a dog is the relatively inexpensive early warning system they provide. You know me, Mom, I can get rather absorbed, and anyone could potentially just sneak up on me unexpectedly. So if I’m inside, doing whatever, I can always hear her little bark or three, and if there be a whiney sound = they be friendly, … Continue reading Of Lost Worlds And Becoming
“I hate to hear you talk about all women as if they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures. None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.” ― Jane Austen, Persuasion Mom, I don’t envy your granddaughters, growing up amongst this interconnected, opinionated, expectant, perfect seeking, exposed and socialized society. Media professing save the earth, woman’s rights, and wrongs. The door … Continue reading Would Jane Play Hockey?
Few places in London have more mystique, more soul, than Guest House On The Mount. The structure of this charming “boutique hotel” was at one time a Nunnery, and on the grounds remain a few remnants of that time. The terraced lawns that grace the property feature a Mary grotto hollowed from the old roots of what looked to be a toppled Mother Oak’s roots. … Continue reading Duality And The Feminine
“Be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder. Help someone’s soul heal. Walk out of your house like a shepherd.” RUMI Well Mom, certainly not every morning I dance around the apartment like a madman before work, but I was compelled by the funky sounds of one Alex Boye. He has a real funky vibe of Motown in his sound. He gives me this … Continue reading What I know About Being Giddy And Free
GOD knows me and idleness are not amicable while at work. Idleness is for days off, holidays and hospital beds. See, those Calvert’s indoctrinated me as well Mom. I admit, it has taken some time, but I am aware that this work ethic that runs through me veins does in fact stem from them. I don’t have a heaping load of it, but I see … Continue reading Madonna, Lawrence And I
Me again. I do believe you are the proud Mother of a work spectacle. Yes, indeed. The side-ways glances, the smiles, the awkward silences. And I’m not imagining it. I was of course worried this morn about the aftermath of Monday, after my melt down. I had left early in a crying, bawling mess, and had come like millimeters away from quitting my job. So … Continue reading A Witness To The Introvert In Full Sail
So I’ve been wracking my noggin Mom all this week, trying to decipher who the mystery.texter is. I’ve asked various questions, not all of which have been answered, but from what have, piece by piece, I have whittled down the possibilities. I don’t know many people, so there is a limited crew of those who had the means to contact me. I earlier in the … Continue reading The Mystery Man and The Memories
I recall the exact moment I knew Tim was ready to leave. I was ensconced in my acquired cubby-hole, that space I had carved out for my self after his death. I was listening to music and these series of songs played, one by one, and then and there I knew he was saying goodbye to me. I had been hitting random and had asked … Continue reading Why I Talk To The Dead
When I first met Tim his life was about drugs, music, late nights and alcohol – and it was that life that ultimately killed him. I’d always been attracted to the music scene, and still love the energy of live music. Thus it was that I became entangled in the life he led. Yet, in time I realized that Tim’s life was not out front, but rather out … Continue reading Confessions Of A Caregiver
This concept is something I’ve been wrestling with this week – being single and/or celibate, and what exactly does that entail? On the surface I suppose it’s rather straightforward, yet, am I thinking in terms of just abstinence for a bit? Or all out CELIBATE? Or, am I just choosing to be single, and celibacy plays no part? These thoughts were sparked via a video … Continue reading Single, Celibate and Satisfied?
Bit by bit, life erodes these ideas one has. Dreams, goals, aspirations, all grand schemes are subject to moderation, and the changing climate of life. Today as the weather outside dips, and moisture freezes on the window panes, I find myself with little to say. I awake, and drink my coffee, smoke my cigs and go about the morning routine that has defined me these … Continue reading An Ode to Lost Things
“The poet is an anomaly in our culture. The goal of our culture is money and power. And that’s not exactly what poetry is about. What is it about? That’s a hard question. It’s about anything the human mind and unconscious can produce. And that’s infinite.” [Stanley Kunitz] And living life within the confines set by our society is certainly not what writing is about, … Continue reading A Poetic Vocation
I’ve become very attached to these youngsters, called British Home Children. I never suspected there were so many in our township, but for the last few days I’ve discovered 16, and have been following the trail of two in particular. Here is a bit of their story. In late August of 1895 two boys, ages 13 and 10, departed from Liverpool and crossed the Atlantic … Continue reading Abandoned, But Not Forgotten
The Temenos Journal 