Friday, December 30, 2011

The Celebration of One's Mankind

Glistening glasses of  champagne bubbles.

Sparkling about.

Cardboard golden paper hats.

Flimsy and whimsical.

Noisemakers and tinny hollow sounds.

French Silk pie from Baker’s Square.

Shrimp and sushi as friends and family embrace.

Meaningless or mindful traditions?

Crowds packed in frigid weather just to see the crystal fall.

Another year passing.

The culmination of good and evil.

Wicked smiles and joyful grins.

Streamers floating about.

Littering the streets.

People pounding on stainless steel.

For what?!  What does it mean?!

Another year wiser?  Another year of uncertainty?

Children’s delightful laughter.

Prancing about.

Couples sharing a romantic kiss.

Others alone in an empty house.

A time for vows and resolutions.

To be fought.  To be gained.

Auld Lang Syne.

Memories fleeting by…

On long cold cobblestone streets.
And clock towers.

Ringing the chimes.

A celebration of one’s passing.

And one’s beginning.

A new start.

A fresh awakening.

A pouncing of the old ways.

Lessen the stagnancy of tomorrows.

Lost letters,

Unreturned correspondences,

Broken promises.

No longer!

New caresses.

Lighter steps.

A welcome glance and dance to the day.

A scattering and smattering of one’s thoughts and one’s dreams.

Upon the concrete walks of the morrow.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind….

( a re-posting...Happy New Year...Lorely)

Friday, December 23, 2011


I don’t even like coffee, not really
yet the warm confines speak to me.
They welcome my soul to a place of solace and comfort.
Sienna tones and cinnamon frothy smells
seduce me away from the daily drudge and grime.
Learning what is good, what still remains,
as this world slowly solidifies away.
Sip by sip.

Listening to the dusky sounds of Mahalia Jackson,
escaping from the harried shoppers.
Hurry, Worry, Panic, Shop!

Who has time to listen to the silver bells?
To take in the brisk air of a live nativity scene?

Christmas, what is that really?
How does a baby’s birth speak to our planet?
Who has time to listen to the baby’s cry?
To envision his sacred mother?

O Come let us adore Him…
Are we adoring Him?

Or have we become one of many who scurry past the bellowing symphony of a Holy Night?
Not even hearing it’s reverberations.

Yet everyday, opportunities await.

A cold person yearning for shelter.
A widow or widower in distress.
A child spending another night in fear.
A young man fighting his addictions.
A person looking for acceptance.

How do we break out of our warm toasty homes?
to welcome the prodigal ones?

Tis much more pleasant to sip creamy coffee and watch the world go by…..

This season may we take a moment
To hear the baby’s cry amongst the crowd, the sacred.

And stop and reflect on God’s goodness.
His first gift to mankind.

To see his face in the glistening ornaments hanging on the tree.

To pause and be thankful.

“O come let us adore Him…”

Sunday, December 18, 2011


There shall a star from Jacob come from
and a sceptre shall rise out of Israel....

Sometimes the greatest of gifts remain untouched
remains lying in a vacant cluttered cupboard
crumbs spilling about...
The empty hollow taste,
the touch of a friend's attempt,
a glimpse of but a shadow of the past.

Our lives are filled with crumbs and palate and empty morsels
mostly given from the heart.
The question is what to do with the particles that remain.

Hide them under a bushel ?No!
Talents which lay unspoken can be brought about
just by the faint affirmation of love

Holidays escalate the clatter
the loud din which occurs in whispered corners
and kids frolicking about...
A manic pace rushes in to absolve of guilt

"This little light of mine....I'm going to let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine..."

Thursday, November 10, 2011


It was one of those mystical evenings
where it seemed the whispers of the dawn were speaking
Visions of greatness
Dance in the purple rain.
The pungent smells realize
raindrops which meld
upon glistening pavements
will find their way upon skin
Breathing in the voice
The touching of fragments.
An ordained frock
upon the shoulders
gives way to beyond the ordinary
Or does it?!
Tinkling of the ivories
bent in the wind
seeking what appears
behind the curtains
Turns into a smile
An embellished hand
begins to hear the song
to belong
to dance in the purple rain.

Monday, October 31, 2011


The blood thirsty lurks.

Seeking around corners.

Predators oh so delicious about.

Eagle eyes changing color with the wind.

From amber to golden browns.

Tell a story of young love, everyone’s dream.

The strong in self control.

Unyielding to another’s passions and desires.

Clawed by the piercing of vultures. 

Cold and white skin embellished in crimson.

The need to get closer.

Fangs touch and break through the barriers.

Pupils dilated ready for another violent thrust.

A kill. As lust enrages within the human grip, sweat and saliva.

Enticing innocence. Coupled with the darkness.

Wanting to protect.  Wanting to torture.

The blackness engaged masked in clouds of fog and doom.

To see the glimmer of  prism sunlight glittering on the skin.

To taste the drops of frozen sweat.  Mirrors crashing.

Flying above the everglades.  The forest draws one near.

To seek the forbidden.  The lost. The committed.

A self- fulfilling legacy of destitute belonging.

Ample bosom, brunette locks, embraces the unwilling.

  The touch of bodies. Yielding.

Swollen lips.  The kiss of death.

As the blood drips. Scarlet.

The dichotomous choices of the morrow.

Ahh to hide one’s face in the shadows.

Never to have sunlight upon the skin. 

A vampire’s loss.

The beast within.

Temptation prowls about.

(To anyone who has ever dreamed of a scarlet lover...)
Happy Halloween


Thursday, October 6, 2011

The Unencumbered Genius

Silently I wonder what it is like to lie unencumbered in a shallow grave
listening to the mind of one's genius
the cerebellum never ceasing.

T'was it all in vain?
Bringing a generation of touch.
The family mourns.

Technology slows if just for a moment.
Yet to live life fully in one's passion
not waiting for another's
claiming to find that niche
and embrace it wholeheartedly.

What did he surmise that none of us could?
Did he spend his life chasing quadruple rainbows
because he knew they existed?

Yet we must capture that first photograph to prove t'was real

In my daily life may I choose to simmer in the afterglow of one's brilliance
and never cease
chasing rainbows. 


Saturday, September 24, 2011

It seems much like any other eve
yet there is a glimpse in the sky
a glimmer of rain and a rainbow appears
my daughter moves so majestically and gracefully
while watchful eyes from above look on...

her spirit is there
i catch just a quiver
knowing that she is silently
 beckoning to her loved ones

the young man
gallant in his 1943 plymouth
brushes into this moment
so awakened so alive
his smile reflecting
upon his silver tinged

stars will shine tonight
as another milestone
in a young woman's life
meets the meteor
of every little girl's

to you my jess
I wish the world. 

Tuesday, August 23, 2011


One's life to another might look
As if a dream.

The reality is the rose colored lenses
Looking at the other side of the lawn
Is just as green.

If not more.

With depth and illusion

So easy to peer through the lense
And see past  the fence.

Pink tinted and peeling.
Belly swollen and purging
With the whys and wherefores.

A different dimension

An empty nest

Lies in the awakening of another.

Yet for years.

Captured by schedules rigidly the days flounce by

While she beyond the garden
Longs for the days of young.

The pitter patter
The loud and clatter

Become swallowed up
In the solitary noise.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The Author's Voice August 2011

My apologies for neglecting this blog.  Summer has been fast and furious, and I have been enjoying time with my children while they are home from school.  I just returned from this lovely place, Sunset Beach, North Carolina, and I am heading out this week to Pennsylvania to visit family.  Writing has been on the back burner, but I'm sure it will sprout its wings once again.  To all my followers I hope you are having a fantastic summer.  I'll be in touch soon. May the lull of the oceans and the dawn of the tides speak to each of you...

Peace to you.


Wednesday, July 6, 2011


We are the divine among the divine
Lion cubs separated from the sheep
Refusing to succumb to the bleating
Somehow buying into the manifold
That we belong to a lesser god.

A different royal sanctum.
I will not bow down to the utterances
The berating and the bashing
My mane will sparkle in multi-colors
In the speckled, the matted, the unshaven
I will speak  and others will listen.

And slowly and softly
On the distant shores
I will find my roar. ..

Friday, July 1, 2011


The spineless backbone
Of ignorance and tolerance
Lies waiting in concentric circles.
Empty air tickles an empty ear.
The meddlesome mind lost
Rustling within other's egos.
A yolk distant from the edge.
The sacred heart remains bound

With a slight tear in her eye
A passenger in a propeller
Flounces about
In paralleled frustration
Spinning a whirlwind
Of adhesives and scars.

The third wheel
Wondering when to reclaim
What was rightfully disposed
Remains on the sidelines.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The Corrupt One

Oh how the mighty has fallen.
A cold day in history.
Pride cometh before a plunge.
The vulture unleashes from the sky.

One of many taken down.
Down. Down. Down.

If one could hear the blackness seething in our brains.
The overthrows.  The seductions.  The take-overs.

We would be shackled too.

What can you do for me?!
Me! Me!
After all, isn’t it always about me?!

Shaded eyes. Mirror of the soul. Full head of  painted dark hair.
Elusive. The need for power and control.
How many people has he trampled to get his way?!
In secret rooms.
All of the makings of desperation and disaster.

As the grey  pelts down…covering our world in gloom.
Attempting to hide the hidden.

“Your deeds done in the darkness will be exposed in the daylight.”
Angered at this deception, this fraud; yet aware…

Expletives, profanity, a definition of character of morality.
What morality?!

Where does it exist?
Those who have. Those who have not.
Who gives a damn?!

Economies are collapsing.
Children are hurting and starving, yet “Give me that Golden Parachute”
I’ll turn my blind eye…and watch another rot in the dust.

Pad my shelves. Upholster my furniture. Burn the papers and turn them into shreds.
Interior is important. Or is it exterior?
Arrogance creeping in…

Leads way to utter failure.
“Judge not, lest ye be judged.”
Blagojevich…Who will even remember how to spell his name?
“For what shall it profit a man if he gains the whole world, but loses his own soul?

“There but for the grace of God go I.”

Thursday, June 16, 2011

The Damnation of Eternity

Peering through my gold rimmed spectacles

A gentle wind escapes through the panes of my office.

Entertaining thoughts which lead to doubt.

He stands accused.

Feathers blowing in the mist.

A thin wispy air.

Rosy cheeks and dimples.

A child’s innocence led by a weathered manicured hand.

To the rectory where no one sees.  No one hears.

No one whispers.


The task is done.

Incompletely torturing another’s soul.

For eternity.

Raging truth must be set free.

From the fires which choose to burn.

Flames flying.

An old steeple with tarnished crosses.

What is there to believe?

Where is the truth?  Wherein lies naivety?

Refusing to capture the pangs, the pain.

The psyche of one’s being.

Shall I escape from the ruins?

To other gray stagnant days.

Fog laying all about.

Attempting to consume.  To cover.

Foolishness attempts to hearken another’s vow.

At the expense of one so bright, clear and young.

Causing questions which will last throughout the centuries.

No time to ponder.  Only to walk away.

And begin again.

And doubt.

The Query

Amongst the rooftops I sit in a query
as to the meaning of life.

A lone flag rustling in the breeze
if only…it’s patriotic call.
A young woman falls
another maintains.

Symbiotic rhythms and waves,
a myriad of quandry,
listening to the quibble of far off folks.

Carolina sun upon my skin
and here I sit once again,
waiting for answers…

Realizing as each day passes,
they’re immersed within…
the very fabric of daily syncopations,
universal oneness, and
the simple, yet profound…

The query, the quandry and the quibble.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011


The only thing that is certain in life is that it is hellaciously uncertain
And one must learn to live in the ebbs and flows of instability.

Ascertained by the necessity of one's belongings living in the lawn.
Dumped while scavengers peer in the windows.
A young sophomore plucked from his decade of surroundings.

Abandoned to the backwash and prompted by the maternal prescriptions.
Mother laying lifeless upon the next fix.

Enthusiastic bright smile, never questioning, always adapting to the unknown.
His name given by the forefathers a glimpse of salvation
Gone in the midst of the night of never ending goodbyes.

Friday, June 3, 2011


I shall choose not to be afraid
Of the arrows which pierce by day
Flying without any sense of direction
Or the deadly diseases
Which stalk in the night of darkness
Under the veil of gloom.

His armor shall be my protection
From the loss of opportunities
Surrounding the feathers
Which cover my wings.

When one entryway opens...
Another closes
Shielding us from the serpent

Detours carefully guarded
By the traps which surround
A refuge from the terrors
Which attempt to consume.

(inspired by Psalm 91, in light of our present economy)

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

The Author's Voice May 2011

The month of May is a tough one for me, perhaps that is why I wait until the very last day to write.  This month is a fresh reminder of grief.  A few years ago I lost a very dear friend to a mysterious and sudden illness in May.  And recently a friend of mine lost her son, a young boy, a soldier in the war in Afghanistan and Iraq.  Then just a few weeks ago another friend lost her husband of 45 years, within a few weeks of illness, he was gone.  So this month has definitely been a reminder of reflection and the painful reality of mortality.  With that being said I am very aware that life is meant to be lived and lived abundantly!  But I must indeed admit that I am thankful to be heading toward the month of June.... Peace to all you bloggers who continue to follow faithfully.  You bring great joy! 


(In loving memory of Debbi Tepper, Joey Dimock and the soldiers of 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment, U.S. Army, and Joe Watts, R.I.P.)

Sunday, May 29, 2011

World Peace

Across the universe
Poets and seers have expressed
The vision

The ideal
To have peace
And happiness
Interlocking hands
Singing "kum ba yah"
Nations  of the people
Voluntarily cooperate
Against warfare, selfishness
And greed
A cessation of hostility
What's mine is yours
Brother and sister
Vibrations of mankind
Using energetic active words
To heal transform
And empower
The course
Of planetary destiny
The human heart
Embracing oneness
An all inclusive message
Fighting the winds of despair
Blowing from every direction
Ending strife convulsions
And chaos
Dawning a social evolution

The planet
Of sacred books
Hold the promise.

Monday, May 23, 2011


Enraptured by the lack of rapture
A rape upon the rapids
Of astonished beliefs

My ravished body fills with delight
Living each day as if last

Not snatched or grasped
Or clasped upon

A few more years to gather
To capture what belongs

Itching ears want to hear
The kingdom is near

Doctrines of the spirit
Discern the truth
Empowering each
With  different

Now seeing through
The mirror darkly

Cognitive dissonance
A  gift of learning.

Confusing at best

A plate of food
A drink of water should
Be the crux of salvation
And emphasis.

Not the waiting
Upon counting ducks in a row

Never ready

Always Willing