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These are my rambles, my thinking as I grow younger and younger. |
This book is about life on earth. Or actually about MY life on earth. Not what I DID, or where I have lived, or which emotion I have wrestled to master. (Well, maybe some of that I suppose.) I mean I have to scribble about something, don't I? Mainly I want to think, and think, and write a book about my thinking. Thoughts can offer opinions, commentary, artwork, humor, debate. I just want to talk, silently. About why I live, where I came from and why I was given days and years and people and dreams and sadness and how none of this was or is a coincidence. THAT'S what this is all about. 
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| Have a yard sale tomorrow. Been working my ass off boxing, labeling. Now my vertebrae is unhinged. Passed out flyers in the street. I so need to get rid of this excess and to get my bills paid. It'll work out the way God wants. Ole' Teddy passed away. Of all the brothers, he knew how to get bills passed. His work changed the health and services, and legitimacy of the lower middle class, and the poor in this country. He was able to work with Republicans (even Bush) and move legislation through. If he were here, he would design a Health Care Plan for Americans that was understandable, fair to everyone...and would provide, even limited check-ups, doctor appointments for everyone. His voice is silent.And there is no one to take that spot - to bellow, and sooth, and to shake the raftors with his commitment to what he believed in. JFK was aloof, Bobby was suspicious...but Ted was a people person, and was well loved by all his colleques. The end to the old guard. God help us with this new guard. Barely in diapers when the JFK era began. Obama might read some of Teddy's old speeches, and Jack's , and Bobby's. Obama might learn a few things. He's already bungled, bungled, bungled. hope he's prepared for 2 more years of recession, and a stimulus package that is going to make inflation soar. He cannot blame anyone except himself. Probably Michelle would have been the better President of the two. She's in touch with the working class. Plus she is 10 times smarter than he.......her intellect far surpasses his. |
| Really....why can't I get better? I haven't written much in months. Finally I have a spurt and poems come tumbling out, but I don't feel I'm improving. Same old same old. Busy with real life. Basic survival, paying house bills, giving refuge to a young kid with no where to go. Helping people solve problems they face. I enjoy that part of my self...Social Work....finding solutions to situations which baffle others. I HAVE to be a better writer. I wait until lines flow from me, almost like it's not FROM me....but just the part of the day when my "muse"...or angel...or some inner speaker is reciting lines for me to copy. It is sporadic, many times a knawing of some burst of emotion which has to be put on paper. I don't have a voice, I just refine or clean the lines with punctuation. I do believe angels watch and guide me, as well as close people who havepassed on. I hear their little voices and nudges and I sit, and things spill out. Lately, I have seen a burst in writing. Here's hoping this will continue, and language will become more rich, fluid, mindful, and echoing for the reader. |
| The last few days I have been in bed, horribling ill and feeling pretty useless. I have no laptop, but I just di not want to get up and try to get on-line. My vision has been lousy, and I've been sleeping, dreaming mostly. I tend to think alot, many times when I am sick or trying to sleep, my mind races around and I skip from images of the past to feelings, to actions, to motivations. I offer up so much static, and my anxiety goes head over heels. I am so much older, yet I am younger than I was. Sounds complex, but, I am amazed I got this far on my life's journey. Sometimes when I listen to people (especially young people in their teens or 20's I think "been there, done that" I don't envy anyone their struggles or their joys. When I begin feeling like I am not accomplishing anything, I have to remind myself of how much I HAVE done in my years of living. Sometimes I'd like some affirmation of that, but, really, pride is not a good thing. I want to offer encouragement to other people. I'm naturally a giver or a listener. With the outside forces of economics and politics and events moving us all toward poverty, war, emotional and financial insecurity, it takes more effort than ever to appreciate what I experience TODAY, this hour, this minute. Writing is such a "freedom" experience. Outsiders might say my life is dull - yet I know I purposely experienced life when I was younger, had more energy and more income. I never wanted to wait until "retirement" to travel or spend. Consequently, I lived alot, traveled alot, worked two or three jobs at once, and raced around "living". Now I have a simple life. I don't have any places I wish to visit (that I have not already seen), nor Broadway musicals, nor concerts I wish to see. I saw "A Chorus Line" six times. I've been to the off Broadway plays, the Lincoln Center musicals in NYC, been lobstering with the lobstermen pulling traps in Maine, snow skiied in Italy, learned foreign languages, lived for four years in Europe as a teenager. I've eated at the best of the best top resturants in the world. Recently my mentor, my College Professor and her husband came out to visit me. Their adopted daugther was apearing in an Opera in Santa Barbara. That brought back memories of Operas I attended in Europe in 193-1968. Foggy memory. But I told them I went to one in Verona, Italy sitting in a huge old ampitheatre outside, and I recall there were elephants and animals on the stage, and the Opera was 5 hours long. My guests asked me some questions about this. Then they shook their heads and said I had attended the Opera "La Boheme" (I believe they said) or another famous one. The only Opera that included a stage of huge animals. And that I had attended it at one of the oldest Opera sites and historical landmarks, that it was an old Roman amphitheatrea where I had sat, from the Roman Empire period; and that every Opera enthusiasts would kill to attend an Opera in that country at that site. I had no clue. I believe I was eleven or twelve years old at the time. It was interesting to hear their perspective. They are retired and are big travelers. They took me under their wings when I was in college. I gave them a tour of my part of California, touring the beaches, and hillsides. Places I take for granted are so interesting to visiters. End of this rambling. If I ponder the logic of going on, does my life have meaning still, I must humble myself and express gratitude for all God has given me, and never second guess or refuse direction and help HE send my way. Everyday must be lived, appreciated, enjoyed, and my actions in the world person by person should promote peace and kindness and compassion. Living IS good. |
| I'm just happy to be alive toay. Grateful. |
| Haven't been here for about 10 days. Have totally forgotten this blog thing. I type so fast, seems I drop letters, there's always some mistake. I hate proof reading. Right now I'm still catching up on my Poetry Review Forum.. I have to keep lists as I forget who I've reviewed and who I haven't. One surprising note. I had a certain new person give me some reviews, and he was pretty off the wall. His beef was about a rock band and a phrase from a song. Anyway he blasted me. I answered back and expressed my opinion in my calm, quiet fashion (yeah, right). After which he proceeded to tell me that I should kill myself because the world would be a better place without me. Actually he used the word "suicide" i.e....why don't I commit suicide, as it would save the world the trouble of having me around. Interesting. As of today, I see the reviews he gave me are not listed with his name, but as as an "unknown" person...or "previously known" person etc. Apparently he was given the boot. Life goes on........ |
| Lately I've come across some folks in real like who I thought I only saw in movies. They were nice and rented a room. But as the months went, anger withing themselves came through. It is like this explosion. It build and builds and just blows. Personally I was really afraid. I have never been afraid. My arguing seemed to heat us both up. But when I person denies actions they''ve taken (like bust a hole in your doo, hit you, push you), this denial begins to make the othere person (me) feel like I'm going crazy. This is not a boyfriend. But he treated his girlfriend like a dog, screaming with jealousy. I intervened, and was told to 'shut the FUCK up". Are some folks bad....or are their past marital issues, childhood issues never dealt with? The guy is 42. My world of youth and eary 20's never encountered this. Makes me sad. |
| It comes each year, this season of Lent and the arrival of Easter. Yes, I am Catholic. So Easter is the main cornerstone beam, the main column above the foundation of Faith. Faith, you say, puzzled, how does one prove Faith. It is an elusive, "blowing bubbles" transient dissolving, re-awakening hummingbird. Ah, but the more challenging it's capture by us lowly, disheartened common folk. Faith is a foundation for building; the certainty and motivating belief for us to live and to venture to "be' a much better "I" or "We". Yes, doubt and anxiety creeps in. But every year, when we see the tomb of The Christ is empty, we can only draw sense to the obvious: "He once was dead, but now has Risen." He appeared in the following days to the women who ministered to Him. He appeared to the spineless,doubting apostles. He spoke through His human form: "See the wounds layed upon me. Touch the wounds of my hands and my feet. Surely you cannot doubt my bodily presence." Of all that was written of him, and by every word spoken by Peter and Thomas and James, these words give significant power to this idea of Faith: "I will be with you always, even until the end of time." Easter is a renewal, a reminder of events centuries before. NO OTHER human being has truly been a constant in this earthly world. Christ Jesus, for the "only one of many" crucified that day, has shown through His Rising and defeat of Death, that HE IS the beam, the cornerstone, the brick, the mortar of that small word: FAITH. Happy Easter. May you all feel a small breeze next to you, and may you wonder (if only for a second): "Was that the Risen Lord walking near me?" Oh, but for those brief seconds of faith, Jesus The Lord again has made us wonder. |
| Thank you Lord for laying down your life for me. What person among us would lay down his life for his friends - especially enduring Roman Cruzifixation. This, the most barbaric of all means to tortue, kill another. A man hangs, arms over a cross, nailed or lashed/tied with rope. One small step holds his feet, nailed or lashed. Raised high, there is no support, hour after hour, for the body. No movement can occur. Slowly th chest, the lungs cannot bear upright. They sag, they begin to drop. But the arms/wrists are nailed/lashed. A body cannot support itself bound againt a piece of wood above the ground. Scientists say, the lungs suffocate, the weight of the body being pulled downward causes a slow, very slow, agonizing suffocation, breath becomes tempered, air and breath do not regulate. thirst produces dehydration. Crucifixtion - Rome's masterful invention, like the water canals and mills. 500-1000 were crucified each day. Why was it one man was remembered among all of these? ONE HUMAN BEING murdered centuries ago, still remembered. A man whose name has impacted the course of the world since he lived. Jesus, the Christ - surely this was the Son of God. |
| EASTER. Today is Good Friday. I have changed my lifestyle this past week, and tried to be present in the moment. I have been out INto the world and feel more a part of the world. I am thankful so much. I recently read my nephew's (who I raised as a son) blog: www.societyofthesecondchance.blogspot.com/ There as I read from the first post until now, I came to know the horrow that my child faced these last 2 years as a full blown alcoholic at age 28, for at least 10 years. The shock of his finally asking for help - and his admission into Cottage Hospital in Santa Barbara, California was minor compared to the attending and specilist doctors stating that my boy had only a 20% chance to LIVE. 20% just to SURVIVE. This information was only revealed through this PUBLIC blog. I had known that he had addiction and drinking issues, and the death of his Mother was a horrible blow to him. After her passing I found him weeping outside the Hospice and saying "I'm just a G..D..drunk". "I've never done anything good". But, after the funeral, the Memorial celebration months later, he was back bartending in Frisco. His Mother told me years go he was a drunk. My solution was to go kidnap him and throw him into rehab. His blog discusses when and how he finally surrendered and wished for a new life. Read it if you want to read a wrenching, yet spiritual diary of a young man becoming a new person inside and out. More to follow............ |
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I like your 'own' self.
I'm okay and you're okay. I'm good. I'm okay. I don't want to read one more piece that needs work. I'm going to stick to those perfect pieces that everyone else finds - somewhere. I'm tired of the stress. I'm tired of trying, I'm just tired.