My little friend

Warp Cat

I miss dog energy in my space. I've been looking at all the dogs that have crossed my path in this life time. Still miss my Girlfriend dog. I go visit Pete the stray and his sidekick Big Lu. They still love me. but its just not the same.

Life is good though, the most beautiful baby in the world is about to make her grand entrance soon. Although I am not a main player in that adventure, I get to watch from a great box seat. The X_bf (granpa) and I seem to have a good working relationship. As long as I don't have to SEE him to much.

And I have a current bo that is beyond anything I could have dreamed up. His job keeps him way to many hours and I'm still emotionally sketchy so it works out. No matter what, the interaction with this "silly boy" is what got me through one of the more funky times in my life. I say bravo to that.

so life, as usual, waxes and wanes. Dog's or no dogs. and Lucy Blu is her own little independent planet. She doesn't even need a sun to revolve. She spins out at warp cat. So I think I'm gonna make a tomato pie as found on Judy Bluesky's blog.

Some times I feel like a motherless child

I'm really tired tonight. Just tired. I could make a list I could tell u all about it but I'm just to tired. like drib tired. So many things happened today - bland - joyless - my life flowing down the side streets hitting the storm drain lost forever. salton sea - wet. not being replaced fast enough. someday just the bottom left - cracked - won't be back. but tomorrow's coming in on the early train, i'm always amazed when it shows up on time with the flag of promise snapping in the breeze like a mad terrier.

inspiration drizzles down

hee haa

spiderman

My tatoo

Show Us Your Ink! Brickfish

the tour guide wishing us a fond fairwell

Faye Canyon

I hiked high so I could see the wealthy veiw. poetry was read in the canyon to the melodious meandering of a native american flute. a bobcat had walked the trail below not so long ago. maybe he was still in the neighborhood.

No to Palin

Friends, compatriots, fellow lamenters,

We are writing to you because of the fury and dread we have felt since the announcement of Sarah Palin as the Vice-Presidential candidate for the Republican Party.
We believe that this terrible decision has surpassed mere partisanship, and that it is a dangerous farce on the part of a pandering and rudderless Presidential candidate that has a real possibility of becoming fact.
Perhaps like us, as American women, you share the fear of what Ms. Palin and her professed beliefs and proven record could lead to for ourselves and for our present or future daughters.
To date, she is against sex education, birth control, the pro-choice platform, environmental protection, alternative energy development, freedom of speech (as Mayor she wanted to ban books and attempted to fire the librarian who stood against her), gun control, the separation of church and state, and polar bears.
She has no real preparation to become the second-most-powerful person on the planet.

We want to clarify that we are not against Sarah Palin as a woman, a mother, or, for that matter, a parent of a pregnant teenager, but solely as a rash, incompetent, and all together devastating choice for Vice President. Ms. Palin's political views are in every way a slap in the face to the accomplishments that our mothers and grandmothers and great-grandmothers so fiercely fought for, and that we've so demonstrably benefited from.

First and foremost, Ms. Palin does not represent us. She does not demonstrate or uphold our interests as American women. It is presumed that the inclusion of a woman on the Republican ticket could win over women voters. We want to disagree, publicly.

Therefore, we invite you to reply here with a short, succinct message about why you, as a woman living in this country, do not support this candidate as second-in-command for our nation.

Please include your name (last initial is fine), age, and place of residence.

We will post your responses on a blog called 'Women Against Sarah Palin,' which we intend to publicize as widely as possible. Please send us your reply at your earliest convenience*the greater the volume of responses we receive, the stronger our message will be.

Thank you for your time and action.

VIVA!

Sincerely,

Quinn Latimer and Lyra Kilston
New York, NY

mailto:womensaynopalin@gmail.com

**PLEASE FORWARD WIDELY! If you send this to 20 women in the next hour, you could be blessed with a country that takes your concerns seriously. Stranger things have happened.

911

American Life in Poetry: Column 181

Stuart Kestenbaum, the author of this week's poem, lost his brother Howard in the destruction of the twin towers of the World Trade Center. We thought it appropriate to commemorate the events of September 11, 2001, by sharing this poem. The poet is the director of the Haystack Mountain School of Crafts on Deer Isle, Maine.

Prayer for the Dead

The light snow started late last night and continued
all night long while I slept and could hear it occasionally
enter my sleep, where I dreamed my brother
was alive again and possessing the beauty of youth, aware
that he would be leaving again shortly and that is the lesson
of the snow falling and of the seeds of death that are in everything
that is born: we are here for a moment
of a story that is longer than all of us and few of us
remember, the wind is blowing out of someplace
we don't know, and each moment contains rhythms
within rhythms, and if you discover some old piece
of your own writing, or an old photograph,
you may not remember that it was you and even if it was once you,
it's not you now, not this moment that the synapses fire
and your hands move to cover your face in a gesture
of grief and remembrance.


American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright © 2007 by Stuart Kestenbaum. Reprinted from "Prayers & Run-on Sentences," Deerbook Editions, 2007, by permission of Stuart Kestenbaum. Introduction copyright © 2008 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

new post old picture

joB WAS alot of this, that, and the other, dressed with owner idiosyncratic behavior tossed over the top like vinegar. hmmmm. I'm working the rest of the week. no POETRY. bummer. next week i work wednesday and saturday. better.

Oak Creek

sunset crackling
reflecting on the placid
pond of rainbow trout

September 16th

in the stars

A month ago I first time ever entered  a poem in a contest. I got my first rejection yesterday.  Coolio.  It was a rather nice rejection.  One of those it just isn't right for our rag but do enter something else soon things. It was free so what the heck.  Feedback is priceless. Then  at an open mic this week that I read at, I won a $25.00 gift certificate to a sponsoring restaurant. "Who me?" I said.

I appear to have drawn some dissenting feedback on my rather bland blog.  It's not really what I'm going for here  and usually I try to stray away from those heated tidbits that draw controversy.  But some things are just are so glaringly bizarre I just can't help venting my humble opinion. And I am always open to hearing the random takes of others so I guess it was my lucky day.

I also got a neat little side job taking wild west photos at a local restaurant.  One of those period dress up deals.  It takes a bit of costuming knowledge, some photography skills, and an ability to do touch up stuff with photoshop. And it's part time. Now how cool is that.  And I get to dress up cowgirl style.  Wonder if they will let me ware my 6 shooter?

And the whipped cream on the coco was; few weeks ago I snapped some shots at a poetry reading and sent them out to the poet, just a freebie on my part.  I just like to take pictures and the lens I was using (100mm fixed focus) produces such rewarding photos. The poet in turn gave me a chrysanthemum clay bowl he made.  Such a kind thought.

What do you think?  Bonaroo week or what!