Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter

Saturday, August 30, 2003

Through a Glass Darkly

Dusk. At first the sound was
drowned out by the rain,
then as coolness faded and
damp heat returned, so did
the calling of locusts on either
side, somewhere, front-to-back
which direction, cant tell, really
I'm content just marveling at the fact
that they are speaking in stereo tongue
some udecipherable language
incoherent to us humans.
Later, as darkness gains
momentum and substance
there will be the clouds
at the streetlights, moths and
others of its kind, following
some ancient pre-programmed instinct
each with their own separate flight log,
some even on a kamikaze mission, but
most soaring a different holding pattern,
the effect, a chaotic buzz, as one
seen through a glass darkly
and then set free back out into
the night air.
Last night at Barnes and Noble almost turned out to be a complete waste of time. I say "almost" because at least I got to talk to a good friend of mine while I was there, and I picked up a suspense novel that looks like it might be pretty good, Quietus by Vivian Shilling. What happened at the bookstore was that I was all set to come to the poetry reading and participate, and even called up there way beforehand to make sure the thing was still going on. So when they said "Yeah, it looks like it's still on for tonight." I said "Thank you," hung up the phone and high-fived the person standing next to me, which was my son, who also went with me, by the way. But after I got there and waited, it didn't look like anything was even set up to go on, I asked and they told me that the person who was in charge of that had taken another job and possibly the event would be on hold indefinitely. I really wish they could have told me all this over the phone. But - live and learn, I guess. Next time call 2 or 3 times to make sure.
Then this morning I tried to post a message in one of the groups, and I noticed it didn't take so I thought it might have just been a glitch or something. But when I checked my email, there was a delivery failure notice for that very message. It seems that it violated some kind of policy, which I don't understand because it wasn't spam, and I didn't post any inappropriate pictures, and I didn't threaten anybody, so this is really weird. It just seems that the gods of censorship are working overtime today. Lol.
So now the good news... It's not really official yet, but my daughter has been accepted into Brooks Institute of Photography. She's really kind of nervous now about keeping up the GPA. She'll do fine, I have major confidence in her, even when sometimes she has trouble generating it for herself. Plus, I told her that I'd help out on any project. Which so far has been the animal cruelty laws issue for that big paper she has to do.

Friday, August 29, 2003

I forgot to mention how yesterday after work, my daughter was waiting for me. Actually she called me on my cell phone while I was still doing a dismissal. The first words out of her mouth when I got in the car was, "I need your help." So we went to the animal shelter to get some info on contact people who would have answers about local animal cruelty laws. Well, that's her senior project, a paper on this topic. And I told her I'd help in any way I could. It turns out that yesterday she found out that one of the planning sheets for this project was due the next day, not Monday as she'd thought. So there we went, but by the time we got there, the person she most needed to talk to had already gone for the day. Anyway, she had to be home by a certain time to recieve another call from Brooks. And I went online searching all the local shelters, and contact people. I came up with quite a few pages of info. So I guess that's part of what I'm going to be doing at the library today, among several other things... You know, I'm really glad she picked this topic as her project because I have a feeling that helping her out with this will also help me out too, in the long run.
They scheduled an inservice today at work. Vi told everyone, "if you see 9999 on your pagers, come back down to the storeroom." Well of course everyone thought the worst, you know. It turned out that they were just having Andy from Lee's Summit come and demonstrate some new taski-type mops they got for everybody. By the end of the day, there were at least two people who absolutely hated them. But I've used them before at North Kansas City Hosp. I happen to think they're a heck of a lot better than those raggedy old string mops we'd been using. Bye the way, I should be asking Andy the next time I see him if he wants me to store away those pillows I find every now and then that are from Lee's Summit. Hahaha! Some of them I've even labeled "Property of LSH" myself! I wonder how they ended up all the way out to Indep. Regional. lol. Thieving ambulance drivers most likely.
I've got an extra day off that I didn't find out about until today. That means I'm off Friday, Saturday, work Sunday, off Monday, then have have three days on till I'm off again. But they STILL haven't posted my October time. I hope this isn't their way of somehow getting out of it. That would be so lame.
Dun Laoghaire has been accepted into Brooks, as far as I know... there was to be another phone conversation with a student administrator this evening but I'll have to wait to find out how it went. So keep your fingers crossed, everybody!
I have another poetry reading tomorrow night. This will be my second one. I may still be a little scared, but at least I'm not petrified like I was when I first got up there. I'll be by myself I think. My daughter has a church retreat to go to. My son, I don't think he'll want to. You know, it's probably something of a test... I can handle it.

Wednesday, August 27, 2003

A few days ago on one of the yahoo groups I post on, someone commented on a recent poem, I think it was "The Purging." Anyway, the person said that some of the images reminded him of the early days of Everquest. How very ironic, this, a videogame. That most definitely was not the effect I had in mind. But oh well. Live and let live... Let's hope that's as far away from me as possible.
Right now I feel life is like that U2 song, It's a Beautiful Day (don't let it get away) where all these bad things keep happening, but the attitude of the person is not that negatively impacted. I mean I've some material things and just today a source of transportation. But like someone said, when one door closes, a brand new one opens up. I feel I'm on the verge of one of the most exciting times of my life, in the midst of near-poverty. And I'm happy about this. It all comes down to one thing. The things I was so stressed and sad about last night turned out not to be as bad or as final as I thought. At least I hope they stay this way. Keep praying. Strange for me to say since I haven't usually been all that religious in my life. But when things are important you learn to look toward something bigger than the self, and place your desparate hopes there. I really do hope I'm not just fooling myself, but I don't think that's how it is.

Tuesday, August 26, 2003

Over the weekend: My son convinced my daughter to cut his hair into a mohawk, hmmm. My daughter is going through an unemployment crises, and believing lame interpretations of computer read-outs are personally accurate. Hopefully I convinced her that's not the case.
What else is new... the co-worker who lost her son in the accident finally came back to work. The supervisors say she can stay out of ICU however long she needs to.
The big news we were all supposed to get about our jobs on the 21st never happened. They have delayed it all yet again, this time till Sept. 1. Seems to me they are testing loyalties here. I am so ready to go elsewhere anyway.
I spoke to some people I haven't heard from in a while. A lady I used to work with out at the Groves, the nursing home right across from the hospital. And a friend who lives in Florida. I guess their advice would be valid if they really wanted to know the whole story. I don't know. It seems I'm just stuck in this situation that I want so much to be out of already but every avenue is blocked.

Sunday, August 24, 2003

The Purging

I am not running away,
this place is sanctuary
and casts influence
to find consolation alone.
I am not running away.
This is where a shaman
goes to heal the self,
rid the pain of too much loss.
For the journey this time
turns again through an
early September, runs rampant
to a hard ending in November.
It's here, when I'm ready,
when it becomes too great.
I can stare it down, embrace it,
birth it out of me daily if I have to.
Right here on the coolness of sand
where the leaves would have turned
and the boardwalk has been shut down.
I will find no distractions
in placing turquoise, amethyst, rosaries,
bury turtle pins and charm bracelets.
This time it will be Asbury Park
turned my Callanish.

Saturday, August 23, 2003

I've been having these dreams lately, that could have a connection to something. I'm almost afraid to find out, but I'd need specifics about certain things in order to be sure. Last Saturday morning - this makes it exactly a week ago. I told a friend at work about the dream itself. Now it just feels very spooky to me if the conditions turn out to be valid ones. Just that fact alone, I mean.

Friday, August 22, 2003

I never told anybody exactly how he did finally leave this world, Shawn Peacher. I didn't hear the details until much later. Well they did eventually "pull the plug" on him. I don't know why that bothers me so much, I just think they could have waited a little longer. I know it's a long shot but people have been known to come out of such a condition. I also never told anybody that once, from right outside his room I actually did see him move, a couple of times. And on one of those times I did find myself holding my breath, thinking that he could very well be taking his last, right then. And I looked around to see if any of the nurses noticed this, and at the same time thinking that machine will start beeping an alert, but that didn't happen. Would it have changed anything if I'd have gone to Debbie and said something - anything. I wanted to, but didn't because it might have been considered an intrusion. It's been said that we "never know what we would do in a certain situation until we actually do it." I was caught up in the moment but backed away after a second thought. How many people have backed away like that in their lives. How much would it have changed, really if they hadn't. So many unanswered questions. Anyway, I wrote the poem "Unspoken" and plan to read it next week, because its another one of those things I feel very strongly about. I've even considered asking a friend who wrote a similar poem if I could read that one too. Well enough morbid scenes for today. This has just been where my mind is at lately.

Thursday, August 21, 2003


I would paint you
in shades of silver
and colors of the ocean
to match your moods and
all the beliefs I remember
and fell in love with
when I found you.
I would paint you free
like herds of wild mustang
traveling the great plains,
which thrive in the open.
I would paint you sweet
like grapes in Visalia orchards.
Like the wine, like the songs
I treasure most, because of
what they remind me, Irishman.
I would hang this canvas
in the sky, in the Rockies,
or at the shore, and let you go
because I love you deep.

August 21,2003

Wednesday, August 20, 2003


Sometimes words are just
simply words
and a poem is just a poem
There are no direct speeches
except now, to myself...
Get over it and on toward the
exist and then live part,
exist and then live, surely
there can be no perpetual
constant one or the other
(That's right, but don't call
me Shirley) Because for now
I've got ten thousand stories
to tell that I'm still not done
living through yet. Because
I will always have
a story to tell... ones of
shooting stars and bears in
the woods, of Sir Ozzy, of
bus fantasies and of what
noise, if any. a tree makes
when it falls alone in the

hahaha, I'm sure this one doesn't make any sense, and for some reason I felt compelled to put in a quote from Leslie Nielson in Airplane.
I haven't been myself the past couple of days. Maybe its the heat, or stress. Or maybe just my own insecurities. But if I came off sounding unduly urgent to anyone, I sincerely apologize. I have a feeling that things will even out soon enough. And even if they don't, it won't be the end of the world. So now onto the task at hand, which is always a challenge. "I have a story to tell." I need to pick a good one for next Friday. Remembering Moulton? Nah, that's too long. I will come up with something, maybe even something new. Remember this: Spoken Word rules...

Through This

Hope stolen from a
callous soul may cause
it to cry for a day.
Take the hope from
the soul of an empath,
she will never recover.
I still don't understand
What good can come of this.
I'm wearing my insides out,
a reversal of vital emotion
and defenses. Here, these
walls have crumbled and
understanding can no longer
be found when I look for
the vanished meaning
of courage.
The Sound Of His Voice

Today has found me confused
lost, wondering, waiting
wandering, searching
so lost.
What would I be then
without the possibility
of you.
Should have been more
careful in what to wish for
Ask and you shall receive
a flood of heat and desire.
I close my eyes and allow the
images remembered to take hold
and send me transfixed to
another place.
Now that such a gift has
been released in a sense
I know that his pull is
one of pure addiction
that seems to know before
I know myself how badly I
need the sound of his voice
in my ear, that calming effect
for when my thoughts are
working overtime and blocked
words threaten to tumble out
to hang in the air, each batting
against others in a rush of
convoluted meaning only he can
decipher with just a few words
of his own.

Tuesday, August 19, 2003

Its the worst thing in the world to be blocked from writing. Either from someone sneaking up on you to look over your shoulder, or with all the unwelcome prompts to "hey, check this out.. you gotta see this." I'm afraid. This is too damaging to me, this being here in a situation that's never been what I really wanted. I should have listened to people years ago when they told me this was not the future for me. But I was too stubborn to listen. It was my mom. I should have listened. Now I'm stuck in this terrible rut with no hope of getting out of, save some major disaster, some upheaval. Why should I wait for this now. I deserve living my life the way I want with the freedom to write whatever the words say, no fear of retaliation. This is just another form of control. Home-based censorship. For years I've been trapped like this. Five years too long. I finally get my writing back again, I'm not turning loose of this now. Damn all the having to seek out broken minutes to myself just to be able to write a single line. I'm unsure and afraid, but I know all my words are true. That has to count for something. I'm afraid that the concept of patience has run out, leaving me to wonder how could I handle this. My one much needed source of courage has vanished. What could I be now without that possibility. I am so close, I can't give up on this. Don't give up on me.

Monday, August 18, 2003

Today finds me confused,
so lost, wandering, waiting
searching, lost
What would I do
without the possibility
of you.

Sunday, August 17, 2003

I've been kind of busy this weekend, trying to keep up with all the messages and ideas everybody's throwing out to everyone else, about the group. I was so excited about doing all this, I think I got way ahead of myself and started my own group. I think it'll be ok, though. I won't be trying to take anyone from the original group. I'd rather keep mine small, to keep more of a close-knit feel to it. I've seen some really good poets on Xanga, so that's where I plan to go for membership. So if anyone's interested, feel free to visit baileys_java_cafe at yahoo groups.
Well after spending all this time on the internet, I feel kind of blah today for some reason. It might be the heat. I think it got up past 102 today. And no relief for tomorrow either. At least there's a window unit and a fan here. I wonder if everybody finally got their power back on in the east, out toward New York and other areas. I sure hope so. And hope everyone's still doing ok.

Saturday, August 16, 2003

A day of shopping and filling out employment applications yesterday, for my daughter and son, respectively. At the "Center" looking for school clothes and underwear. Hahaha... I dare anyone to ask "dun Laoghaire" what she wore on her head in the car while driving, at least half the way home. I was kind of embarassed but at the same time laughing so hard... It was craziness, I tell you, these young whippersnappers today, having fun. What's the world coming to? The two older ladies in the car next to us gave a shocked look, the one in the passenger seat covered her eyes. Oh the shame, the shame. But the way I see it, my daughter can do anything she wants. I know for certain that she is not on drugs, not wanting to be in a gang, not going out and having sex, not stockpiling weapons to shoot up a school, not drinking and driving or any of those things you hear in the news. My daughter has become a free spirit, but with a responsible attitude, a decent concience and I'm very proud of her, even if she does *giggle* occasionally wear a thong bikini for a hat on the way home from the mall.

Thursday, August 14, 2003

Time and Trepidation

When you hear them say
time heals all, remember that
they've only forgotten
how time can also obliterate
a near lifetime
of memory and belief,
a faith, a path, a wonderment
at what was thought lost forever
is now being rediscovered slowly
and deeper, deeper I fall into
the chasm of uncertainty.
As unattainable as you are
at this moment, and as mysterious
as I can be without meaning to be
and avert my gaze against the
possibility of missing some precious
something presented so full and so
real but not yet surely within my
grasp. Yes, at this moment I am
afraid the time will come I will
have been erased because of my
fear of yet more loss and failure.

A lady at work was telling all of us at break this morning about a freaky experience she had up on 4 North. That's part of a separate wing, way at the other end of the hospital. The 4th floor of the North tower is used for long term patients, some even bedridden. Well she was in a patient's room cleaning it, and she thought she was asleep, she heard her breathing and everything but she kept smelling roses from in the room, so here she's looking around for these flowers and there's none in there. So she goes and checks some of the other rooms for the source and none of them have any flowers at all. But every time she came back into that room there was a strong scent of roses. She finished cleaning and went on to the next few rooms. Then found out a little later that the lady had just died. And the realization that she was in there working either right before or during. That would be freaky just by itself. But how do you explain the rose smell in the room at the time? She says it had to have ben someone coming for her to take her to heaven. I have heard stories like that before how somethin like that can happen right before a person dies. This one is pretty tame, compared to some I've heard. I don't know whether or not I believe in them. But now that I think back, not one person I've heard relate such a story has ever had a reason to lie about it. So there must be something to it.
Work went at a steady pace yesterday. I really like when it's like that, it just seems to make the entire day go faster. I was in the ICU area, and probably will be today. I'm glad that they moved so many out to another floor, it just means they're getting better - that's always good news.
Also got an invite to join the moderators in one of the yahoo poetry groups I'm in. It seems they want to get more input on some for new members to interact with the rest of the group. I think I'm really going to enjoy being a part of this, I'm excited about it.
I guess the Xanga site has really been having some major problems lately. Something about a series of DDOS attacks, which I take to mean somebody has been infecting the site with some kind of virus, over and over again. They say they're in the process of getting it back up, but I just wonder what all that has done to my posts on there. Well it's a good thing I have my own copies of everything important. Even if I've lost them on Xanga, I know they're not gone for good. I can still repost my poems somewhere.

Wednesday, August 13, 2003

To Continue...

Because the feeling I hold now
is the morning's brightest star
lifted safe in the sky at dawn
where no one can ever
steal it away.
I hold the elements of
such feeling in another
safe place deep within
the core of my existence.
For this I feel alive, after
all these awful years spent
searching through too many
idle storms of futility.

I wish I hadn't ever thrown those old poems away. Geez, I don't even remember now when that was. I do know that it's probably one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made. And I'll probably still kick my own butt over it from time to time. It was an entire notebook of poems I had, representing two creative writing classes, complete with instructor comments written in the margins. He'd said he liked the way my mind works. Well I did keep one of them I had turned in for the class (I couldn't bear to part with that one since it was the first really good one, I thought) And I still think First of Thirteen is in a class all by itself. The day he read it for everyone, he asked for comments and when none came he said that it took him a couple of times reading it before he caught on that it was about "writing" itself. Then he looked at me and said "that is the message here isn't it?" I nodded, said "yeah" when the truth was I didn't know myself, what it was about. I'd worked on it for days, I think I rewrote it by hand at least fifty times. It was during my "Warhol" phase. At the time the images were the most important thing. Images and the flow. I had to get the images right, I mean Warhol was all about images so I had to do it justice. (without the luxury of a camera, that is.) And I just realized something here. 1) I'm rambling again and 2) lacking a means for images seems to have been a recurring theme.

Tuesday, August 12, 2003

Aaahhh... Is it still only Tuesday? This week is just dragging. It's like time is in slow motion or something. It was like that at work today. Well some days the motto goes a little something like this: "Wait for it... wait for it..." (patient room dismissals). Then at about 3:00, it's "Hurry up and get these things done." I once had four stat cleans that came in at the end of the day. Impossible, especially when they expect you to clock out at 3:30. Oh yeah, it's also interesting when a nurse will put in a stat clean in bed tracking so that when it comes across the pager, you rush to the room only to find they haven't dismissed the patient yet. Whoops, somebody didn't check first! Lol. Does it sound like I'm complaining? I'm not really, at least I didn't think so but now that I look over this, I can see how somebody could get that impression.
I'm waiting for it to get dark out. I hear there's glitter storms and meteor showers due later tonight. Hope I can see a little something anyway. Wouldn't it be great to get a shot of the full moon at the same time as Perseids? I've never taken nighttime shots like that before. I don't think its possible with a throw-away camera. I'll just be glad if I can see half a dozen shooting stars. I'll have to tell Laoghaire about this... Wow.... Cool... Double Wow... Double Cool (in a hushed awe-struck whisper)
I'm going to tell you all my classic "shooting star" story from a camping trip one year at Shaver Lake. But not now. For now I'm going to hammer some words out on paper.
Know This

I know where your mind-set
will take you, know what
you're thinking of, I know that
this intertia is uniquely
your own. Know what you're
doing, "not do" these things
elsewhere now I know you're
about to tell me none of this
is true, but the word "denial"
is written on the wall.
Snap this away from me.
You won't and I can't
live like this because you
drain the life out of me.
A tick, a leech, a parasite
that's taken it's toll.
You can't, won't, say you
will, then don't have half
a decimal of a point to
respect either you or me.

Monday, August 11, 2003

Best Buy just might turn out to be Dun Laoghaire's new best friend. The interview has turned into a 3-step process, with the first one ending with a very promising potential opportunity. Two more to go. Not often will an employer offer as much feedback, and I hear he was very impressed in terms of leadership experience and the fact that she knows a bit about computers.
So Laoghaire, if you're reading this...You go, girl, I'm proud of you! They'd be a fool not to call you back.
Well at work, the big guy is back from vacation, that would be the general manager of environmental services. And No one's heard anything from him yet about who might get the axe. I'm not all that sure if that would bother me. There was a time when something like that would cause me to panic but, hey. I know I'm an excellent worker. When I was still out there at Lee's Summit, the (same) GM told me I was a model employee. So even if a decision like that is out of his hands, he'll at least be able to give me a pretty decent reference, no matter where I go next. I guess we're still gonna have to wait till the 21rst to find out.

For some reason, I ended up missing Def Poetry on Friday and the Dead Zone on Sunday. The cable was messing up, plus there was all this stuff going on with concerts and hair color and all that good jazz. Or should I say "punk"? Which was all pop/punk bands, from nearby areas. Gatorface went first. These guys really had me laughing. Later somebody told me that they're not even a real band. But they're just as good as the rest of 'em up there that day. They've got this creative humor/dry wit type thing going on, which if they kept with that line of thinking, they could be the punk version of Spinal Tap. Let's see, some of the other bands... Of course, Without Incident which we were there to support. Arlington was good but couldn't stay. They had another show to play that night. There at the last, wast was Too Beautiful To Die. I'd have to say these guys kicked butt. I wonder how they came up wit the name, though.

Sunday, August 10, 2003

I got some bad news today at work. At break I asked how he was doing, the kid that was in the car accident, and someone told me he didn't make it. It was on Friday he died. I guess by today everybody at work had time for it to sink in. And to be honest, I thought he might have had a small chance of pulling through, but I guess I was wrong. And I haven't seen his mother since Thursday when I talked to her before I had Friday and Saturday off. I hope she's coping with all this. It's a complete tragedy and what makes it even worse is that it could have been prevented. I want to just say to some of my friends I've mentioned this to, again, thanks for listening.
I can't dwell on this forever, so...
I was reading Beau Sia's webpage where he seems to have put out an open call for someone to rent out his room in Manhattan. I've mentioned earlier on another blog, that he's been on vacation in Scotland, and it sounds like he's become so smitten with the whole place, he wants to stay even longer. I tought that was pretty funny and I can't really say that I blame him for that. I know I'd probably feel the same way. If anyone wants to visit the page, I believe it's at beausia.com (I hope that's right. If it isn't, I'll post the correct site tomorrow sometime.
Well, Xanga is up to its usual mischief today. I couldn't access it when I got home this evening. Neither could anyone else. So it looks like my backup may turn into a regular destination. Its a shame about the Xanga, though. It has a lot of cool features that I was really getting into.
I got an email today from a friend back in Fresno who's also into photography. In his spare time he uses his photos (slides) as background for upcoming shows for local bands, friends of his. Haha, he worked on a photo of me, put together with a couple of different backgrounds. Kinda neat. If I can find a way to post these picture here, I'll be doing exactly that, postin' the pics. Speaking of pictures, Ifinished the roll of film in the digital (disposable) and was going to drop it off today but the place was closed, well it IS Sunday. But you can specify whether you want the images on cd as well as prints but that takes a couple of weeks to get back, it'll still be worth it. Laura says she can post them that way without having to use a scanner. Double cool!

Saturday, August 09, 2003

Can't edit and repost after using different browsers? Oh curses on you, you... Dreamcast!
Didn't get done with Laura's hair color till after 2:00. All the while she's worrying about it being too dark. "My dad's gonna kill ..me". And me telling her not to worry, that I know what I'm doing. She didn't want to go too drastic. As it turns out, we seem to have not picked a color that was drastic enough. She says it looks the same as before. She's right, but if you look closely, there are some minute highlights. I think it's ok, it looked kinda blah before and now there is a richer tone. But she says she wants a darker color for next time.I guess I'll be going along to that show tonight. Ha, it's good that tickets are only $5. It's something to do. And they're not that bad, actually even though they haven't been playing as long as some of the other bands, Without Incident. I wonder what a poem would sound like if I used all the names of these local bands. Let's see..."So Fed Up after traveling along Rivendale, I saw that this adventure would not be Without Incident. Indeed, this was no Gametime, and ..." That would be something to look into, especially as ad for a show if by some chance they were to all be booked at the same location. Haha.I may have stumbled onto something here. Or not.

Friday, August 08, 2003

What did I get myself into? Laura is going to wake me up at 1:00 a.m. when she and Jason get home from the concert, and here's why: I promised I would help do her hair color for Monday when she gets her senior picture taken. Why at 1:00 a.m.? Because she also wants it done in time to show it off for when they go to the next show, where Without Incident is playing, tomorrow night. Still I have to ask "why does it have to be so early?" Fed Up is back from touring. I'm not supposed to say anything but the cat will out of the bag soon enough when all three of them report to work again at Hi-Vee. Lol.
"dun Laoghaire" will skin me alive but it's all probably moot by now anyway. They're to play their return show on the 18th of this month.
I'm gonna have to read up on HTML so I can get some color on this thing. Shoot, there might already be color, I just can't see it on this browser. I'd like to post some pictures once in a while too. Well I have to take 'em before I post 'em. I'd better get busy.
My weekend started last night, I stayed up late and woke up around 6 this morning. Two days off to run introspective and let time get away from me. I might go to the library, for a better advantage with some websites, may just take a walk around Sugar Creek and Fairmont. I'm taking my camara, that little cheapo disposable digital I picked up last week. It could very well return some decent pics, you just never know.
This is the news for now. Just a small entry here. Last night I couldn't get on my Xanga, and heard no one else could either, so in a panic, and having something important to post, I sign on here. And this morning Xangas back up and running. But I'll still give this one a try. Hahaha, two different weblogs on separate sites. Can you say redundant, boys and girls? LOL.
Hmm. Well I just tried posting something new and I've got it in the area manage posts, but I can't get it to show up when I click on view blog. Guess I'll keep exploring, I'll figure this thing out. Tenacious me. Lol.

Thursday, August 07, 2003


Don't dare give up
on this one.
Don't let them tell you that
a decision must be made.
For as well meaning
as they seem,
don't let them tell you
there will be no hope left.
Even now when there is music
in this room, he is listening
to the favorites you brought from home.
Speak to him - he can hear you.
There it is still, in the present.
Look there, at your boy,
you can see for yourself
even now he stirs.
Don't let them hurry you
with time limits, with jaded voices,
desensitized, all for the sake
of an empty bed.
This isn't how its supposed
to be or how is has to be.
Don't let them make you think of
how unnatural it seems for the
parent to outlive the child,
but see here another day and
yet another has passed
and still he moves in his sleep.
Don't dare give away his time
to wake.
This is a brand new site for me. My Xanga is on the fritz and I'm going through internet withdrawals.
Maybe this might be an even better site, you never know. I do know this, it's gonna take a lot of getting used to. - Much like Lee's Summit as compared to Independence Regional. See what happens next.