Ashes to ashes, dust to dust or so the saying goes.

A young woman looks in the mirror day after day. The elasticity of her skin is perfection. Her alabaster skin glows with the promise of youth.

Suddenly I look and there is someone else is staring back at me. Older and greyer but the eyes, the eyes now full of wisdom have never changed.

My once lustrous raven hair is now adorned with streaks of silver as if decorated with tinsel. It has lost the sheen it once held.

My gums are now eroding from the wear and tear  of time. Like the weathered rocks along the seashore.

That extra chin that has erupted onto my face like a volcano. Where did it come from? It is an island unto itself!

I can now feel the changes in the whether by the bitterness in my bones. I envision them turning brittle the marrow being sucked out like a deflated balloon.

My once plump ample bosom has begun to let gravity overtake them. Devoid of sustenance for my children I fight their sagging trajectory daily with all the support only Hanes can supply.

The muscles in my arms and legs once tone and tan now jiggle as if made from the finest jello. When I rise in the morning I call it a victory that I can even get up at all. The aches and pains that gnaw at me, grate on my nerves. Yet, it is all drowned out by the snap, crackle, and pop I hear just by standing.

I watch as my midsection grows as if ripe with child, but alas, I am barren no children, no more. It’s just the weight of the world on my belly.

My body crumbles yet, my mind is strong.I may see the older version of what I once was in that damned mirror but in my mind. I am that same young twenty-something ready to take on the world.

My mind is strong and tricks me into doing things my body can no longer do. I take a pause, from the world, to just catch my breath. As I move slower now.

Then the inescapable question arises in the back of my still sound mind. How long before my body crumbles completely? How long before it finally gives out? 10, 20, a 100 years! How much time do I have left to conquer my demons, rise to the occasion, and live life to the fullest? How long do I have left to make my mark in this world?

This is my dilemma! How long before my body finally crumbles, and I am once again nothing more than the dust from which I came…


<a href=””>Dilemma</a&gt;






Panic has set in. I have put a deadline on my story and ever since then I cannot write… anything! I am so disgusted with myself that I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore. I mean this is my story I am writing. My life and yet, I seem to have run out of material! How is this possible… Everyone says it’s okay maybe you need you need to take a break and that is what I told myself the first month.

Now, here we are 3 months later and still nothing! Is it a true writer’s block or is it just another way I am sabotaging myself once again? And if it is true writer’s block how is that possible. I mean I am writing my own life story here and I have loads of material. Why the hell am I drawing a blank on my own life? It is astounding  to me.

I need help I have taken every kind of break I can take and still, nothing lingers in the recesses of my mind. When does it become clear that instead of writer’s block it is self- sabotage? Or am I just overreacting to a normal process in writing? Like HEMMINGWAY once said in his book GREEN HILLS OF AFRICA!  “That it is better to not write at all than to write slop! That is what I am doing I guess waiting for the next great idea instead of just filling up the pages with crap.

Thanks for letting me rant.



<a href=””>Panic</a&gt;






Every time I hear this word I think of one of my favorite NICHOLAS CAGE movies NATIONAL TREASURE! I always think of that clue he says about the treasure. “THE STAIN AFFECTED, THE KEY IN SILENCE UNDETECTED.” 

For some reason, this quote always speaks to me. However, this quote also gets me thinking of the word itself SILENCE and how much of us spend our daily lives in silence.

We don’t confront those that have wronged us, we don’t speak up when we see abuse our neglect, we don’t take action when we see others in need we just avert our eyes and pretend it didn’t happen.



If we witness injustice it is our right nay, our obligation to speak up. If we don’t what then, separates us from the animals! Our humanity, our compassion, or lack thereof is what is wrong with this world today. There are too many of us standing around in SILENCE  while we watch everything crumble and burn around us. Thinking, “I can’t make a difference!”

But, I know it only takes one! One person to break those chains. One person to lend a helping hand. One person to wipe  the tear stained face of an abused child. One person to fill the bellies of so many. Kindness begets kindness!

It only takes one person to speak out, to break the SILENCE and be brave on behalf of the downtrodden. Someone, anyone takes that first bold step and others will follow! Speak out, be bold, and love with all of you, for all of humanities sake! The rest, as they say, is SILENCE!



<a href=””>Silence</a&gt;





I couldn’t think of anything so I am just going to post a poem I found with this word in it. Here goes it is called A WOMAN IS RUNNING FOR HER LIFE BY SHEILA DEMETRE

Under my ribcage a live coal

is singing. It wheedles from its hutch

of bone,glows blue in every kindling breath. 

I need these bright shoes to burn up centuries 

of inertia, of sickness holding me limp

with forehead ground against my tangled knees.

Celestial now, I’m all brush and sweep.

My elbows scribble, quickening the air I SLOG.

Don’t touch my sparks, my hieroglyphs of heat.

Light bellows over the lustrous hip

and oils the backbone’s trough of knobs.

I just want to go on churning, smoking from sight

around earth’s bulge, her green sizzle.

In the gist of my own wheeling

I’ll be bone-dust millions of miles long:

the meteor’s tail you glimpse in winter, the fly

whose hymn your hand keeps trying to still.






<a href=””>Slog</a&gt;



Acid pours from your fork ed tongue, as my ears once again, begin to bleed.

I scream a silent scream while my blood inches its way down my neck to rest in between the valley of my breast.

One lone tear tracks down my cheek you watch unaffected while it trails down to mingle with my blood. I tug on the knife you have plunged in my gut narrowly missing my heart.

Is that maniacal laughter I hear coming from your open jowls? Or is it all in my head? My insides now exposed I can see the darkness that lurks there.

I have witnessed your death many times in my mind to no avail, cause here you stand in front of me. The bane of my existence, ironic without you I wouldn’t exist.

Your broken promises now fall on deaf ears, as they have bled one too many times listening to your lies.

I am perplexed by your wickedness. How could something so good emerge from your loins? I am lost and terrified. Does evil really beget evil? Or do I still have a chance?

I raise my chin to show you I know longer fear you devil. Yet, I can feel you peering into my soul with those cruel lifeless eyes. Knowing my boldness is false.

You are the demon that keeps me awake at night I know you can sense my fear from miles away but what you don’t understand is that I know longer fear the demon you have become I fear the demon I may become.

I stand tall and proud all the while my heart is shredded into a million pieces. If only you could see the hurt you have caused, if only you cared!  Would that change you?

I can smell your sweet stench, the sulphur you emit tickles my nose and as I try not to breathe you in the bile slowly begins to rise.

I begin to sway, dizzy from the overload to my senses. I can no longer hold back the vomit and I spew the blackness that was me and is now you.

I wipe my mouth clean, and I see through tear filled eyes you are gone. Were you are mirage? Will you come back? When will this nightmare end?

I see you now demon for what you really are, It doesn’t matter anymore if you try to hide. I have caught your scent now, and will continue to cast you out.

I don’t have to be brave to be rid of you, I just have to have faith, faith in myself, faith in my goodness, and most of all love in my heart…


<a href=””>Perplexed</a&gt;


<a href="">Perplexed</a>





My heart is racing, my breathing is labored. I can hear the blood pounding in my veins. The sickly sweet stench of animal dung clings to the acrid air as I run. Run through the tall grass chasing that enviable beast to my glory. I stop short as I have once again lost his trail and a blinding light catches my eye. The sun has begun to set over the horizon that seems to go on forever and I am momentarily distracted from my ultimate goal by its beauty.

I see the grass moving about a hundred feet dead ahead and I take off like a shot, the chase is on once again. Unable to catch my breath for even a moment. The sweat now stings my eyes as I run for all I am worth now huffing and puffing in this unforgiving heat. There are parts of me screaming in agony, but my bull-headedness refuses to let me give up.

I have no fear,  this moment, no fear of snakes, or anything else that could jump out and bite me. Only the chase matters now. Through my tunnel vision, I see wisps of grass dripping with blood and I stalk my prey following the trail. Now I know he must be hurting.

I can taste the dust from this dry arid land as it once again kicks up to choke me. It seems this land is punishing me for attempting to hunt its patrons. I begin to slow my pace but I know come hell or high water I will not quit until I have this beast. I hear a moan just a few feet ahead and realize he is down. It doesn’t register until I hear the soft click of my rifle that I have reloaded while running. Just in case I need it. Yet as I stumble into the clearing I see he is no more.

A moment of elation and pride washes over me mere seconds before the inevitable sadness kicks in. I come around to see his cold dead eyes staring back at me. I am exhausted and now reek of sweat and God only knows what else but instead of happiness over the kill I just made all I can think about is the lifeless corpse lying at my feet, that died by my hands. As everyone else catches up to me and slaps my back in a congratulatory fashion one lone tear trickles down my dirt-encrusted face. While I watch this animal’s blood seep into the moisture-starved earth. Devastation leaks into my pores. I am heartbroken…

Then, as if lifted from the scene I blink back the tears that threaten me and I am back in the room. No more desert, no more dead things, no more heat. I am back to reality and I have to tell myself it is only a book! I’ve never been to Africa, hell I have never even hunted before! What the hell!

I am just finishing GREEN HILLS OF AFRICA BY EARNEST HEMMINGWAY and once again he speaks to me. I had gotten so enthralled I lost touch with reality for just one moment I was there. My mouth has even gone dry from the dryness in the air. I could see the sun setting over the African Praire. I can still smell the pungent odors of the wild. I can hear the distant beat of a drum keeping in time with my now rapidly beating heart. I can feel the loss of that animal’s life. My pulse has literally quickened amidst all the excitement chasing the “BIG ONE”.

So enthralled was I, I forgot I was reading a book and not actually there hunting with HEMMINGWAY!