Traveling

Slushies, sticky fingers, and pumpkins

The bus pulled in

Children scurried into a line.

The teachers check for sleeping children on the bus.

Spot, the cat curls herself on the wooden bench outside.

Suspecting nothing.

A flurry of activity soon conspires.

My hand stretches out the window with a little plastic tray.

Full of sticky cider slushies.

That dribble down children's mouths.

They watch intently as pumpkins are dropped one by one

Into a tank of water.

"They float!", A child exclaims.

Awed by this natural phenomenon the children begin whispering in shock. 

Teachers come and go to the window 

Picking up tray after tray of slushies.

Towels, napkins pumpkins, jelly

The cat has found refuge among the empty boxes.

As the bus pulls away I feel a sense of success. 

Cider slushies aren't so sticky after all.

The Wind and Whistle Operator

The wind swept through the bricks.
It swept up my stairs.
Beneath my closed door, it whispered its cold call.
Like an operator
An operator of wind and whistle
That scoot under my door and through my window.

It's cold outside
Cold enough to ice skate, no
The pumpkins look like giant crystallized candies.
The cow bucket had a sheet of frosty ice.
A Rain gage is no measure in times like these.

The sun sheepishly peaks through the clouds
On this bitterly cold morning.
Like a tardy student quietly coming into a classroom.
The sky is baby blue like freshly pulled taffy.
Straight from the candy creators.

The night wind sweeps its thanks through the trees.
Like a silently kept night vigil. 

A Season's Bows

The Snow on the mountain bows its head to my step as I wander through their hills. Dew clings to the lambs ear that huddles next to the ground as if it were trying to cuddle with its despondent lover. Puddles deck the muddy ground and a fresh rain drips from the grasses swaying figures. A red gnarled feed trough lies in the pasture holding today's rain. My mint and grey shoes snap twigs and Reizen the petrified grasses. The hills are quiet and the clouds float on like impregnated elephants.

"Winds in the East"

"Winds in the East storm comin’ in somethin’s a brewin’ about to begin.” This lyric is sung by Dick van Dyke, in Mary Poppins, as he is taking the children back to their home. These lyrics while at surface level might just seem catchy for a rainy day… actually, signify a change or shift in what’s happening for the Bank’s family. England’s Easterly winds come wet and cold weather perfect for staying inside, bringing change. Which provides Mary Poppins and her umbrella a perfect entrance to begin changing the household. This quote sung by Dick van Dyke has an underlying message to the children, is that you don’t have to be wealthy and rich to be happy. He is happy with the simple things of life. This message is furthered by the bird lady, who sings words simple and few collecting tuppence a bag for the birds. Hauntingly, beautiful, this movie is artistically a wonder. With that, “Let’s go fly a kite!”

The Angelus

The Angelus

They prayed 

For plentiful crops.

Their heads bent 

During prayer.

Pray for the poor departed

And the lost.

The Angelus 

Rung from the steeple top. 

Reverent mournful

We, now, bow our heads

For the departed.

A Ghost Echo

A ghost echo
Rings through the air.
A coyote howls
His last farewell to his true love
The moon.

A ghost echo
Rings through the air.
Now cows pick up the tune.
A screeching redtail
Whizzes by.
The cat's tails look long brushes.

A ghost echo
Rings through the air.
A young fawn mews his awakening.
The crickets play their chortling song.
The rising sun
Beckons the floating cloud.

A ghost echo
Rings through the air.
And all is silent.

Pain and It's Place

Pain is life. Pain is the beginning and the ending, the trials and tribulations. Pain has a place and a time. It is not loved but it gives a person perspective. One's pain is only a sliver of this world's problems. It is hard to gauge pain on a worldly level but the pain has made only made us stronger. And maybe the world is getting stronger through the pain.
My grandfather, a Korean war vet, walked with persistence and vigor through this world to his last days. He suffered the pain that made him into the courageous and heroic man he was. I can only imagine how much pain he had, not only throughout his numbed body that had been bitten by frost bite but all the emotional pain, that could drive anyone crazy with anguish and grief. How anyone could suffer that much pain and come out being a stronger individual is beside me. I cannot fathom how our military heroes suffer so much pain and fight to protect a nation that they may never see again. I can only say thank you to all those brave soldiers that risk the pain for a better world.
Pain is a piece of you and a piece of me. Pain comes from creation and destruction.
Emily Dickinson wrote several poems on pain and loneliness of which she suffered. Emily lived in Amherst, MA. She wrote over 1,170 poems while she lived almost none of which she published. After her death, her younger sister submitted many of the poems. One of Emily's most notorious poems details pain, "After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes." This poem is about suffering and death. "The feets wooden way" is indicative of a wooden casket. "Like a stone," in reference to a headstone.
Pain is a constant companion for many of us. But we were all made to withstand its fatal blows and come out a stronger individual. We were all created to withstand pain.
You can't outrun pain it will always catch you in your tracks... when you least expect it. So be strong.
Que sera, sera.

A View

The sun fell in moon drops

Across the chiseled lawn.

Green and sparkling with dew

Fresh fallen

A calm silence fell

Across the weathered brick house.

The shudders cling dryly to the house

Shifting with the slightest draft.

The dawn brightens the crest of the hill

Reflecting dew

And creating a weary residence

That pawed the very visage of the young girl’s view.

When the Marigolds Bloom

When the marigolds bloom,
I will come to you.
I will sing from the ground.
My notes floating upward to your cracked window.

When the marigolds bloom,
We shall see each other
Dressed in our Sunday's best.
A white flower adorned at your chest.

When the Marigolds bloom,
The ages will pass
One slipped out the door.
For academia and the lights of sound and fury.
Two, three, four
Five, seven
They go.

When the marigolds bloom
We'll sit hand in hand.
Gazing over the waters of our youth.

The White House on the Beach

Wishing thoughts of a far off land I can see you standing in the sand
There's a colored striped ball by your feet.
Your feet covered in small crystals of sand.

She is laughing
Her bright red lipstick
Perfectly carved
Onto her laughing lips.

She can see the gulls swooping ahead.
Bombing into the ocean
After squirming fish that struggle in their craws.

A crab wanders across the beach
it legs scratching the seashore
Leaving little-scuffling imprints.

A white house is overlooking the sea.
It has a tower with a light.
That shines into the sea at night.

The air seems light with a brisk salty breeze.
It smells of waves and sun kisses.

Then,
I realize I'm home.

What the Partridge Brings

The Partridge took
Half year to arrive
at this place
My heart.
There the nest he's made
A burning like this inside
A furnace in an organ
A bellow of a roof.

The Partridge escaped
Out a hole in the flue.

A letter sent by pigeon
No partridge to be seen.
A furious wind
Striking the Northern front frightened anguished flying North.

Will it last?

The pigeon senses which direction to fly.
But will it
Fly?

For something that could not be As thought?

The Partridge slips
Through the Trees
Gathering Nuts and other Berries.
You Awaken I do too
The grass outside Is growing green
A newborn partridge cheeps its first breath.

Grain Season

A train of grain trucks rumbles through the night, their piercing lights stabbing the darkness. The farmers, sweat, and dirt covering their taut muscles and dusty hair have worked a long day and pulled in bushels of grain to support their families. Their mirrors are clouded with dust they've brought from the fields, the dust that steals their time.

The Rain Fell in Sheets

The rain is pummeling the house I lived in. Sheets of rain slide down the roof like tears falling from the sky. A bird's cry echoes across the lawn. High up he perches watching the streaks of green grass fade against the rain. The rain reminds me of a cleansing of nature; a renewing of sorts. Like a baptism.

The rain fell in sheets around us. Dripping from our red and white striped umbrella soaking the memories of our confusion, love, and fear, that rippled down the streets.

"Absolutely, I Will"

"You'll show them, won't you?" His face is fierce with belief; it seems to draw a circle around all the hours Werner has spent at Children's House, hoping for something more.
"I will," Werner says. The eyes of the children are on him. "Absolutely I will."


This quote is taken from the much loved Pulitzer Prize-winning book, "All the Light We Cannot See." The certainty that the protagonist, Werner, shows when he says, "he'll show them" is so certain and absolute.

I read this chapter directly after looking over a college acceptance letter to one of my dream colleges. Funny how those things work sometimes.

This quote evokes a kind of courage and steadfast persistence that the eager endeavor to show. It is a kind of devotion that we all want in our workplace, school, social setting. An eagerness to do our best. Though sometimes it's easy to just give up, without exerting ourselves to our full potential.
It's a challenge, for all of us, to say, "Absolutely, I will," to anything.

A Chance Encounter

The time fell
like sand,
sliding off your belly
crumbling onto the beach.

I looked
Into your green eyes
Full of compassion,
Certainty,
Naked truth.

The truth hit me
like a ton of mason bricks
thrown from the Chase tower.

You accepted me, I accepted you
The mess covered us.
like a thousand crawling caterpillars
all heading east.

That's funny
They forgot to ask
Me to come.

Clara the Bride of the Ship

The black ladder tilted across the mizzen as it grew darker in the brilliant glare of moonlight. Pollox watched the black sky. Their sailors heaved the mast on board as the moon shown bright upon their rusted daggers. It was that time of night and the men were heavy with want for their bride: the sea. Uncorked the shattered glass of the night lay gathered on the deck.  Like moon beams cast across the ship's stern. Withered the sailors had become, rejoicing and shouting. Behind the mast, she was the bride of the ship. Mounted to the mast her bosom rising and falling with the sea's tide. Lay the beloved Clara tied to the ship's mast. A woman apart from her old world. Letting herself, unwontedly becoming part of the ship's crew. A gazed upon part of the ship, like some needed accouterment. A necessity to keep the ship afloat.
The mast held her back straight as the waves shook the vessel sending it headlong into the spitting Atlantic ocean.

A shout comes from the poop deck and a man climbs down the rope ladder to the deck.
The ship has seen land ahead. The crew breathes a sigh of relief. And Clara stifles a shout of joy.
Maybe her life could be better now?
She could run away from these fiends that had held her hostage for so long. Maybe...
But fate held her captive.

A seagull squawked his war cry as he dove fearlessly into the water skimming its surface pouncing on its struggling aqueous victim.  Clara watched as the fish struggled within its captor's jaws; with a quick toss in the air, the gull swallowed the fish whole.
Maybe she was being overly sentimental but this brought tears to Clara's eyes. What if her fate were to be the same? A quick struggle but an authoritative grip to silence any wish for escape.
The sound of sailor's feet bounded down the galley to her door. The mutter of wind forced a whistle through the door which opened quickly to reveal not a sailor but the captain himself adorned in his best coat and Bi-Corne hat.

"Come on lassie were goin' out to thee' docks for a swagger."
With little resistance from the weakened Clara, she stumbled across the deck to come face to face with the sharp glare of her conniving captor, Ralph P. Vertnik...

Morning has Broken

Morning Has Broken
Like an apple twig shattered in the force of a gale.
The sun wakes you up
Nature's mother softly prodding you out of bed.
The sun's Rays streaking through the window remind you of Hope.
A strange hope
Shackled to a chair.
The chair covered in
 your flannel,
Hope is dying
Let It Die.
My shoes lay
Untied
Left with the last grimace of yesterday.

Today is the Day the Lord has Made and we Will Invoice

Today is the Day the Lord has Made and we Will Invoice. Do you find yourself in the daily office grind? Or maybe at a factory or warehouse inside all day?


A vocation is not simply a calling to religious life but something that spans much deeper.
What is your career calling?


Huge question, right?

Wowzer, and a big one at that. Just about as big as that catfish we pulled from the river!

So a job. A career. A vocation.

Have you discerned your calling? Assessing what you can do, what you like to do and most importantly after prayer and reflection, what you feel called to do.

A wise Catholic friend of mine once gave me some solid prayer advice when I was deciding on a college. He said, in order to pray, initially, we must give thanks for the things we have and the graces God has blessed us with then pray for our intention.
Intentions can be anything! Remember God is infinite and Almighty.
Then humbly thank him for his time and all he's given you.


So back to our invoice situation.

Getting another job especially in this economy is tricky. The hard truth is, sometimes, there aren't a lot of jobs in your area.
And you aren't able to move due to finances.

So the reader decides I am stuck.

Well, are you?
Have you explored at home jobs?

Some popular ones are:

1. Call representatives

2. Website Designer/Graphic- you can try this at Canva.com

3. Travel Agents

4. Freelance writer: blogger.com, wordpress.com, PoetrySoup.com- start-up is fast and free.

5. Write for magazines: Finance, Business, Collectible, Urban Farming, Country Living: Go to the human resources page of your favorite magazine or newspaper and look at the job board there.

6. Sell books on Amazon using either an individual or professional account. 

7. Start a YouTube channel


8. Open an Etsy store


9. Start a farmers market stand:
And sell literally anything. Bags, recycled coin purses, paintings, pie and other baked goods, first check with your local city rules on this.
Meats, cheeses and dairy products generally require licenses. But specialty crafts are great ways to make a little loot!
Start a garden and sell your fresh vegetables, fruits or herbs to your neighbors or at the farmers market.

10. Volunteer
You can volunteer literally anywhere, your local library, rest home; for specialized programs check out websites like: Volunteermatch.org, Catholicvolunteernetwork.org, idealist.org. These may include stipend, medical insurance, transportation, loan deferment etc.


 I realize that this article is rather higgledy-piggedly, my apologies. I do hope you gained some quirky, if not useful ideas on finding income with what you have at hand and making a difference in someone's life.

For now folks, toodles!

The Fact of It All

The fact of it all
Coiled around the chair
Slipped away like sand.

Promises made
Promises broke.
Little reminders of what fell
From the whirlwind of passion.

The fact of it all
Wrapped around
Someone else's hand
Fixed on a single finger.

The fact of it all
Oceans, states, mountains, lakes.
The cold wind,
Humid air,
Slipped around you.

Promises kept, promises spoke
Not kept I search.

The fact of it all.
Is buried in the truth.

Of the sage that burns on the hill.