Friday, December 24, 2010

Walking at 3 am


Northwind bends tree
hissing icy sleet
peppers the street.
Shadows flee
where feet
and sidewalk meet;
darkness echos
footstep in corners,
walking the brick
under the beams
around the corner
and back again.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Snarky Snorp.


Truffles afoot and torn asunder
this parcel of hogs is out to plunder
and snuffle the truffle and hoof it about
then dig it up with a dirty pink snout.

The trick is to get it before it is ett.
(Piggys gets giddy with truffles i bet)
Would you reel him in like a fish on a hook
Or give him some slop and a really good book?


(Sorry, I just finished watching The Grinch)

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Death in the family



Waxy still warm-
recently deceased.
Lying quiet among
living towers
of ruddy inebriation;
Not of my tribe
the squat hearty sturdy
rooted in reality
mired in sobriety
sorrows not soaked.
Purposely unpickled
Sealed up-saved for later.
Sooner longs for later
and the last silent stag
slips into the shadows,
and the stage is set for change.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Chest of Drawers


Between words and mouth,
is a vast wasteland
of dead space.
Heavy with heartache
and humility
filled with rage
and guilt.
A vacuum
of unspoken pain
and deep trenches
of resentment.

seven



The rain stops
in the steamy mist
i spy 7
in that murder of crows-
as I pass, they call out,
as if expecting me
as though awaiting me-
as if to bring me
the gift of 7.
A secret that's never been told
of journeys never made
told in echos
and caws-

then lift off squat and absurd;
hurled into unseen lifts
and airborne.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Yams and Hatters


I am what I am
my name is no matter,
I might be a yam
Or perhaps the mad hatter
measuring your noggin
Upon which i crown
A fun feathered derby
To wear around town.

But, if really, i am a yam
then cover me with butter
sprinkle on some cinnamon
and of course
some good old brown sugar.

Take up the delicious tuber
and bake it good and done
slather on the butter
and slice it like a bun;
offer it some cinnamon
and smother it with sugar.
Sweet creamy carotene-orange
with a fork she made her mark
tastes so good and good for you too.
And now she can see in the dark.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Sylvia


Like her, I know the flatness of men
and the urgent sounds of beehives.
Like her, spiraling down and down,
falling like Alice; the madness.
Hold to a flimsy rope and heave up
again and again.
And from the grave I hear her
whisper to take the plunge
finish the fall
at the bottom is the raging river.
I seek the language.
Let the words go and go and go.
Hard won sanity shivers.

Thoughts on thoughts


Thoughts
Flowing
Spiraling
Surging
slowing at a narrow
Flinging bits of self
Across the landscape of paper.
Words make a break for freedom.

There is a breeze moving the humid hot air
kicking ripples across the stillness of water,
And like this blank paper
it is filled with teeth and hooks
and nibbling lips
kissing the under-surface,
showing me they are there.

But the things moving under the green scum
are invisible to me.

Friday, August 13, 2010

A list of things that makes your heart beat faster.

Icy patches in the road, sudden dips.
Dark corners, strange neighborhoods
strangers lurking.
Unknown dogs.
Being lost, alone on dark roads.
Phones ringing at 3am.
High fevers and fear.
Scary movies and
Shambling monsters.
Roller coasters and sex.
Supreme cuteness and surprises.
Caffeine.
Adrenaline.
Cocaine.
Chocolate.

Thoughts on a Friday afternoon

Knowledge of what I know has a direct relationship to what I think I do not know.

For instance, the fact that I am an RN in a Cardiovascular Intensive care unit setting does not mean that I should have knowledge of foreign languages and music conducting. Lets examine this array of random thoughts.

The language of medicine has its own dialects and inflections as spoken by people of various cultural origins. One has to be able to read what appears to be Arabic instructions on how to conduct the care of the human being entrusted to one's care. A returned call in the middle of the night sometimes requires an interpreter, as it is most important to hear and understand what is being said and written.
Players in the orchestra of patient care gather to play their parts in the concerto. Consider the patient a beautiful musical piece and the medical staff, nursing staff, and all areas of the hospital, harmonizing with the rest. Nurses are the conductors of the music being played upon, bringing all parts together and focusing on the music.

The rhythm is provided by the life sustaining muscle residing in the center of the music.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Blinky things and Brain jogging




Boy, have I got writers block or WHAT? I come here to my old slobbsblogg and look at the blinky thing on the blank screen and nothing comes.
I walk away and get involved with 942 other things, and it comes but then it leaves, It's like having writer's Alzheimer. I know it must be partially related to not being around my writing friends this summer, but come on. Nothing?
I have rewritten some of my old stuff that was carelessly jotted down in a notebook and put it into a beautiful journal. Not even that inspired me. But ok. I will be inspired by this perhaps. Just the act of typing and thinking of something witty to say maybe will jog my brains.
Nope. Nuttin so far. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I don't like my blog template anymore. I will work on that.

Let's just see what happens....

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Absent without leave

Life sure is funny, and to get thru all the ups and downs, you just have to take life on it's own terms, i have realized. There is no rehearsal it is strictly an ad lib kind of thing.
Improvise, you know.
Improvise and overcome.
Or not.
Succumb is also an option.

A little update is in order since you have been so kind and supportive of me and my crisis du jours.

The grand daughters are doing great, looking forward to a fun summer with Aunt Lindsey, who is home from her freshman year in college. My other daughter is doing great and has been accepted to UT chattanooga and is moving into her own place soon and completes the first leg of her journey of recovery. We are very proud and excited and happy. This time last year I was not so optimistic. Thank you Lex for that lightening of my spirit and saving your own life. You are on your way up again. Awe inspiring.
Gratitude is such a small word to express how I feel.

My writing has lightened up alot, and I will be sharing it soon, but I needed to update any who might be interested in the good things happening..
Because I was so low for so long and it was not a good time for me and my family, my writing was dark and reflected my grief and sorrow. I hope the lightness will be just as obvious...

Peace and happiness to all my blogg friends.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Small talk


Greetings earth people.

As I sit here waiting for a "human" to answer my call to the Department of "Human" Services I have come to the conclusion that they play the most irritating music they can find to subliminally encourage you to hang up.

So I did. I don't have enough patience or hours left on this planet to be sitting on eternal hold. You know what I mean?

Took my grand daughters over to Chattanooga last week to visit my daughter, and it was a beautiful week and we have a lot of good time together with her and the girls. It all worked out perfectly and I really like the city and surroundings landscape; very beautiful mountains and valleys. I would love to go back in the fall and see the colors change. Memphis is so flat and blah. The trees greened overnight!
My car was covered in yellow green pollen and there was a yellow green cast to the world. My nose was itching off my face, so i know for sure spring has sprung.

It twas a long drive back home, though. Do you know it cost more to fly to Chattanooga from Memphis as it does to fly to Europe? Is that not insane? Something is amiss, afoot, aloft or asomething!
So that means we will be driving, not flying back and forth.

So the month of March is behind me. My muse is still on a mini vacation, and that's ok. She deserves a break. I did what Valentine suggested and I asked her what she wanted and she said she wanted me to get up and exercise and get the blood going to my brain again. She wants me to be inspired by happiness and be not so negative. She wants me to go on a retreat and get my head together. She would like for us to write some funny stuff and leave the memoir for later. We have decided on the point of time for the memoir, but it has to be later, sayeth she. Right now is time for funny and renewal. Not reflections on the times of controversy, not now. Maybe one day when my perspective is better, she said. So she said she was glad I asked, and said she would be back soon, and flitter-ed off.Said she would be back.

And that is that.
The rest, they say, is up to me.

Enough babbage...........have a great spring week. I'll be on the elliptical.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Feelin' Sorry for myself.


Here we are at another spring season. The trees are all happy and ready to burst into green goodness. Little yellow flowers trying to get a head start on the show stealing roses and irises, trying to get their moment in the spotlight. I, for one, am glad that long winter is closing. I usually love the winters but not this time. My entire 2009 was a winter and I am ready for a renewal of spirit, hope and happiness.

The words seem to have dried up, however. With the lack of drama, angst or anxiety, my little spark of creativity seems to have gone out. Im hoping my muse is just taking a well earned break and will be back soon. I get the paper out. I read what I have written. I wonder about new themes and then i put it all back up. I read books on Writing Well, 100 habits of Great Novelists, The Constant Art of Being a Writer, You, Too, Can Write Childrens Books, and so on, and it occurs to me that I might not have what it takes to be a writer. I clutter, my usage is bad. I use cliches and other forms of naughtiness that "serious" writers shun and make fun of.

I miss my writing group, i miss the camaraderie and the support and the feeling of belonging to something. They make me feel better about it all.

So here we are at another spring morning. What shall I do? I need to vaccuum, and mop my floor. See how I sabotage myself??
Where is my muse at moments like this?

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

To Kafern


You sure have been on my mind alot lately. Not that I haven't thought of you before, but you see, my heart was not allowing any more sorrow at the time of your passing. You couldn't have picked a worse time to die, unexpectedly.
You, such a vibrant being, your light blinding. Those who stood with you paled next to you, at best. And when that light went out I felt the shadow, but could not really acknowledge you were no longer on the planet with me.

My body was at your memorial, yet my spirit, my essence, was absent. Occupied else where, out to lunch. Pondering my errant offspring, no doubt. We always said you would be late to your own funeral and it was really funny how they started late in your honor, but in my opinion, for once in your life you were too early, damn it.

You were late to your wedding because you had to stop for 7 or 9 different "last times" as a single person. "The Last Time To Eat A Foot Long Slaw Dog at Sweeden Kreme as a single girl" we ate them in that car flying down Jackson Ave., as your wedding started without you..wiping mustard off your face as you threw on the big white dress, and sneeking "one last joint" in the bathroom, "as a single girl", of course.

And later, much later, while waiting on the baby (well, actually TWO babies) you shared your "secret worry" that the baby might not be Dale's, but a mixed baby. Well, you really got me on that one, I really believed that, and I had Dale so plastered by the time the TWINS came, they could have been lime green and he wouldn't have noticed. Plus there was two instead of one.

Why didn't we know there were twins in your massively huge stomach? Because you were the master at keeping everyone guessing. I know you knew, you must have...but you let us all be surprised when the two baby girls popped out. You just never knew any limits on your tricks, old trickster.

I knew it had to be you who put me on the incontinent supply mailing list, but all you said about that was, "well, it wasn't me, but it's a great idea!" Just like when you put me on Reverend Ike's mailing list and I was getting all of his prayer doo dads and his demand to "loose my money to him."

And you were the spearhead on the late in life pregnancy parade we all participated in, too. Megan was first to be born, and we teased you mercilessly about "don't you know what causes that?" and "we are too old for getting knocked up".
Then Michelle got pregnant.
Then Laura got pregnant.
Then I got pregnant.

So, here you are once again, the first to check out. Is this going to be another trend? Well, all I can say is, I hope you are there keeping a beer cold for me. Tell Janis hey for me, will ya?

I will see you again, old friend.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Moisturization and other matters


It has come to my attention lately that I spend an extraordinary amount of time with skin products and emollients, moisturizers and conditioners, thickeners, smoothers and silkeners and the like. I mean, I know that father time is having his way with me and sucking the juices out of my body like a vampire leech so it's not really a big surprise, it's just sort of annoying for someone who really never has been (and still isn't) a make up-fix-up girl-doll-up kinda gal.

My skin over my hands is beginning to look a bit like parchment paper and what I used to call freckles on my hands are now leering back at me as "liver spots".
Liver spots? What the hell does that mean?
Not to mention how when you pinch up some skin on top of your hand it stays pinched up.....The blue veins are so visible I attract the attention of nurses and other medical personal who are itching to start IV's on me for practice.

My skin on my face was holding up pretty good until I lost the weight of another person and now my forehead is inching its way down over my eyes. Sometimes I actually have to hold it up to see something. Im thinking.....if i could just pull a poney tail up tight enough who needs 10 thou for a facelift, ya know?
Im even thinking about .........gasp..........Botox injections around my eyes because I have to conciously stop squinting them and frowning.

In other words its all going south. Gravity is winning.

Then there is this mole on my jaw that sprouts 4 white hairs every couple of weeks. I yank it out and then one day, just like that, it's back.
Also, When you yank them out, it feels like it is coming out of your neck.

Then there is all the foot and nail care. Nuff said bout that.



So, Let me sum this up. After 50, your body stops making its own oils, grows random hairs wildly, your hair falls out, gets thin, gets white, forehead slips down over eyes and then you go blind and deaf, get grumpier and grumpier then can't remember what you were doing. You may start to pee on yourself too.


Excuse me while I get my Oil of Olay.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Dear 23 followers

I wondered if there was anyone out there still reading this thing or if I am alone in the world of slobbsblogg? My ego made me ask that, by the way. I had nothing to do with it.

Just give me some kind of sign...

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Memphis Urbanities and other items of interest.

I have been doing alot of writing lately and feel good about that aspect but feel like it may be time to try to pile some of it together for an attempt at publication. Now I have no idea if my insane rantings and ravings and ramblings are of any interest to anyone, but I have read some stuff that seemed random and disorganized, like mine. So i think I have a pretty good shot at it. A little book of poems and prose ramblings and so on.. What do you guys think?
Does anyone here have anything published and could maybe give me some advice?
I really have no idea where to start.

I have started a photo blog of my city of residence called Memphis Urbanity, and have been having fun taking photos of different aspects of my city. Please feel free to go have a look.

http://www.memphisurbanity.blogspot.com

It is very difficult to get good photos with my cell phone so I have started taking my digital camera around with me. It takes much better pictures, thats for sure.

Big bad weather is supposed to hit us tonight, and Memphis is trying to get prepared. I, on the other hand, am dying my hair. I guess I will get up after while and go to the store so I can say I got my bread and milk. What I really want is a generator. Now thats a good idea. We have had a few times where one would have been really helpful. Especially that time Hurricane Elvis blew thru here and left us without aircondtioning for 2 weeks. We had a big meat cookout and cooked everything in the freezer. I think we had just bought half a cow. After we finished up all the meat, we got in the car and drove to Detroit, Michigan to stay with relatives.

Day in the life.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Delicious Caramel Candy



Delicious caramel candy.
Sticky, stringy,
perfectly burnt sugar.
Jaws achey with love.

Crunchy candy apples.
Yummy, sweet and tart
gluing teeth together
aiming for the heart.


Melting chocolate candy,
orgasmic for the tongue,
soothes the savage beast within;
bathes the brain like a drug.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Claws N Fangs, Chihuahuas and taters

One month later after "shitfire and tarnation" I am coasting along nicely, I still have a pulse. In other words, I didn't die.
Daily life around here is hectic at best. My inner biznatch is closer to the surface than ever, and I have to beat her back continuously, at home and at work. I usually go to work to get some rest, but here lately, our laidback weekends have taken on a weekday persona.
Add to that a recent addition to the median age of 45 in our tight little group, a youngster of 23, who delights in annoying the old people. (us)
I have had to retract my claws and fangs several times this past weekend and once or twice snapped but didn't draw blood. She is like a yapping chihuahua. You know, the-little-dog-who-thinks-shes-a big-dog syndrome? I digress.

There is that, and then there is this cold weather that makes my bones ache like they never have before. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. It's not supposed to get this cold in Memphis..we are subtropical for gods sake.



So the Memphis Urbanity thing really hasn't worked out like I had hoped it would, mainly because my cell phone is not good for sneaky pics, and the quality is crap. So I need to carry my digital camera around with me everywhere. I think that is a winning idea, because not only will I get good Memphis URbanity photos, I will be able to practice with my camera, which I haven't spent nearly enough time with due to my current living situation. So Im thinking thats a definate thing I can do.

I have a lot of plans in my head for house improvements and yard updates, but not any money to back them up, so I have been working some extras for that plus daughter number 2's tuition....sigh.

Waiting on my husband to take me to the movies, I am full and sleepy. He made divine ribs for dinner and we feasted on that along with the slaw and beans he lovingly made. He has turned into quite a southern gentlemen. You rock in the rib department sweetie!

Not to be outdone, I made some kick ass chicken N dumplings last week, and they were dang good, too. I like not HAVING to cook everyday, but I still enjoy it when I want to do it. Beans and hambone sound good too......mmmmmmmm. Wonder what happened to that honey baked ham hambone? Hmm.

Well, keep your eyes open for more postings, I hope to get back to this on a regular basis, I have resumed my writing class with my friend and Muse, Valentine. I keep thinking I can do it on my own, but I enjoy the camaraderie of the group writing too. It validates me somehow. So does this blog, when people comment and say things about my writing, makes me feel like maybe I am a little bit talented. I keep thinking maybe I will start on that book but I keep getting locked up in rhyme and poetry. I guess I am working on some issues through abstract writing. It IS rather therapeutic.

Since we have a babysitter for one more night, Hubbster and I are going to see Sherlock Holmes. Maybe I can figure out how to figure out stuff.

Laters taters.