Three Years Gone

Nothing, no person, no disease, and no organization or regime can bring down the human spirit. It bursts forth like flower bulbs in the springtime, up from a year of napping under the cold earth. The essence of our spirit cannot be erased. Once we’ve etched our grooves into the human record, our souls songs… Read More Three Years Gone

How to Listen, Artfully

Erich Fromme’s Art of Listening- the rules of how to engage with someone and truly listen and comprehend what’s being said. … Read More How to Listen, Artfully

Maps and Legends

We all fall down.
The ground grows smaller,
As I pass the Earth,
Becoming her daughter.
Funny to stand today, 
Eclipsing the sun.
My books marked still,
On page one.… Read More Maps and Legends

The Island of the Misfit Toys

And of our own self images, they’re not influenced by much positive representations.  Especially those of us at stage IV. The stage no one wants to know much about at all.  We, the misfits, don’t measure up to Santa’s ultra high standards, and become the toys left behind on Christmas Eve.  Weepy-eyed, we stand shivering from the cold, waving goodbye to the tail end of a sleigh, to Santa Clause’s fat ass, and reindeer tail lights.… Read More The Island of the Misfit Toys

From Nifty to Niftier

Vintage clothing and accessories look unique and provide great conversation starters. And now you can also tell all those complimenting your gorgeous, well fitted outfit the facts about today’s new “fast fashion,” akin to fast food, and the waste of the fashion industry since the second world war, especially in the United States. Fashion is the third largest producer of waste of all industries in 2017.… Read More From Nifty to Niftier

A rock feels no pain, and an island never lies…

Many of us experience isolation and walk alone in our cancer journeys. Regardless of the stage or type it's difficult and frightening, causing emotional strain and stressing the infrastructure of even our strongest relationships. My husband is in the third year of his depression. Although he’s trying, the lows and valleys run into and erase… Read More A rock feels no pain, and an island never lies…

I, Sheherezade, I

“Function, sweetheart.” A line in code, Bogart, feeling the burnt calamity, The sweat of cities, And the hearts all pretty. Served with new orders, realizing She flinched dramatically yet faintly, Rudely chortled, then crossed her “i”s. He barely escaped a double, a body, The usual. She’s pretty, toiling for trouble. Yet Who’s the true Scheherazade?… Read More I, Sheherezade, I

I can’t trace time…

As the miraculously sentient creatures of earth with the gift of forethought and planning, sometimes, our little giddinness producing miracles go sideways. New plans must take the place of a road not taken. Make some adjustments to life, or in other words, change. Change happens regardless of those Steinbeckian mice and men and their ne’er… Read More I can’t trace time…

Angelic Details

Lampfish unevolved, light the crevice, (otherworldly!) Blindly finding their ceviche (weirdly!) A dinner time resevation for one, Below the heaving inky pressures Seas lifting other treasures. Above on uboats rocking, spit roasted on a gun, On rising waves. Cresting, comes the new, Seemingly unborn facing headlong, due east. Darwinian measures for Blackbeards pleasures, Never found… Read More Angelic Details

Free Time

I. We visit this carnival bright striped stripped with neon, Inert gasses to breathe and a feast of brothers to feed on. For some think they can earn a place of grace with honey and gold, Bolder still creating truth in lines measured and ribald.  They never find out the punchline to the joke or… Read More Free Time