Labels like
Ugly,
Stupid,
Retarded,
Slut
Make it easy to
Hate,
Dismiss,
Demean,
Deprecate.
What if we
Loved,
Accepted,
Embraced?
Too simple?
Let me start:
I love you,
I accept you,
I embrace you.
God help me,
I do.
Category: Uncategorized
Baby Love
Beautiful poem! From movingtowardsthelight.com
In your eyes I see my heart
I see the love I have for you
In the depths I see your soul
Strength of spirit shining through
Golden Years
Oh yes! From one of my favorite poets/bloggers Paul F. Lenzie on poetrypluspolemics.com
“The Golden Years”
Painting by Richard Robinson
From livepaintinglessons.com
mornings come early
and often
when bladder
resolves to rebel
dawn irrelevant
body clock wobbles
and creaks through
bent gears
while the calendar
chortles with ridicule
hourglass sands
leak from
stress cracks
slip into
dry cartilage
joints complain pain
eyesight droops
and demurs
veiled by cataracts
hairs flee the scalp
for a circular spree
round the drain
golden years
a phrase
cruelly coined
I’m convinced
by some wise ass
too young
to appreciate
old father time
has no sense of
remorse or for that
matter humor
From Studly With Love
Please note that Studly does actually exist; although, he hasn’t quite mastered the spelling of his last name. My very unexpected bouquet of roses is as fragrant as it is beautiful. Studly forgot he’d sent them, so they languished on the porch most of yesterday.
For Studly, I baked his favorite brownies overflowing with walnuts. I added a little something extra for the special day.
Not too shabby, eh?
I hope you have a sweet Valentine’s Day.
Peace, People!
Tequila Mockingbird
I reworked this a bit. It’s amazing all I’ve learned since starting this blog back in July.
Remember the old antacid commercials where an actor would say something along the lines of, “I like tamales, but they don’t like me?” Then the camera would show said actor’s face turning green and his tummy rolling in that special effects thing they do. Well, that’s the relationship I had with tequila. Except that tequila felt more than a dislike for me. It was more of an “I hate you, stupid old woman, and you should die a painful gut-wrenching death” kind of emotion.
I’ve had several run-ins with tequila, but one of the most notable occurred the year I turned 50. To celebrate my milestone birthday I decided to embark on a solo motorcycle trip from our home near Champaign, Illinois, to our son’s home in Dallas. Now, to me that was a big deal. I know other women who have made major solo trips, but I’m not an…
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Stolen Hearts
A beautiful post from a beautiful blog I follow:
by-lainejensen.com. Don’t you just love Love Month?
Some Boys do not Get their Chocolate in Valentine´s Day
I found this post so interesting, and it fits perfectly into my Love Month theme. Plus, nagatayakyoto.com translates his posts into Spanish! I hope my make friends get choco this year.
January 23, 2015
Another funny from Pablo at whiteoutscomics.wordpress.com.
My contribution to DEFLATEGATE. I almost added the line “Mom always says, ‘Don’t play ball in the house'” before I realized that was another episode. If you’d like to view Marsha’s nose meeting the football you can do so here. If you don’t know The Brady Bunch or are unaware of current NFL football controversy…tune back in tomorrow. 🙂
British and American English: Talking about tea
And now we know! I love this beautiful blog at notesfromtheuk.com
Tea isn’t just a drink here, it’s a meal and a marker of class. (You’ll find lots of those if you know how to look.) If you’re working class, tea is the evening meal and dinner is lunch. If you’re upper class, the evening meal is supper. Are you still with me? You won’t be for long, because A. adds, “But we all say supper now.”
Who’s “we”?
Sorry, you’re on your own there.
Screamingly irrelevant photo. He doesn’t care what the meal’s called.
And in case this isn’t confusing enough, I’ve read that all this turns into its opposite in other parts of the country, so you have to know where someone’s from to know what they’re eating. Or drinking. Or talking about.
Wild thing was on the phone with H. and invited her to stop by for tea after something they were doing together. H. told us later that…
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Say It
Talk to me, friends. I love this piece by John White, blogged on his site doubleupoet.wordpress.com. Tell me what you think.
It’s not so hard to admit,
When you are being honest,
Though it can make you feel weak,
And at another’s mercy.
The grim coldness of it all,
Its utter finality,
A heartless uncaring hand,
Taking you away from here.
Say it:
You, Friend, just like I, fear death.
Praying for Eyebrowz 