Cool history

http://nprfreshair.tumblr.com/post/36671525520/ovadiaandsons-louis-armstrong-plays-for-his

A drunken problem

The sound Sn....snake snap snag

Supporting local business again

Loving Mother's Earth Brewery.  This is my favorite...Sisters of the Moon

Where is Kerouac

Where is Kerouac

Holding my hand

Saying let's just

Hit the road

Waning down the Mississippi

Through farms

And fields

And swamps

I need all those

Interesting

ORDINARY

People

Trying to make

It in this

Harsh reality

We call the hum-drum

You know?

The one THEY

Say we can

CHANGE

If only we try

Memories

For all the unrighteousness

standing within me

I have nothing but

(mis)use for memories

Quaking in my recesses

and if I had a dream

I would hang with Dylan

and uncover the secrets

retracing Siddhartha to that

final moment on the banks

gentle fury rushing by

cool and

refreshing and sinister  

Henry VIII Webquest

I created this Webquest for a class.  This is a follow up to my Henry VIII timeline.

Sam Adams Latitude 48 IPA

This is a great IPA.....Get one!

Poor Kilo

This is my 3 year old lab, KILO.  He decided he needed to sit right beside me on the couch.  He looks so sad...but he just realized that I had not petted him in the last ten minutes.

Henry VIII Wives and Issue

I had to create a timeline using Dipity for a class that I am taking.  I chose the topic of Henry VIII, his wives, and his issue (including bastard children).  . 

Henry VIII Wives and Issue on Dipity.

Support local business

We should all support local business....I started by supporting Mother Earth's Brewery

My First Screencast

Today, after many attempts I created my first screen-cast using Debut Video Capture Software.  I was nervous at first.  I do not even like the sound of my own voice.  It is not the most high-tech video; however I am proud of it.  It contains a straight-forward set of instructions on creating a header and footer in a word document. I know with time, my skills will improve, and hopefully I will be able to use this technology in Distance Education courses. 

My skin has

crawled all night

I have shaken like an addict

itched like a detoxer

and slept sporadically

Imaginary men stationed

at my bed side with

arms crossed

sweat pouring down

each of us

Only eroticism

would calm me down

it was an

illusion

figments of the past

pieces of the future

just beyond my reach

I am

A working class

hero with

nothing to

see (blind or oblivious)

I only know

what is

spoken to me

Something went

terribly wrong in

the world today

and yet who notices

or cares

or sees the affects

and I lay here

Disappointed

Alone

Suffering

Surviving

Dying

Ripped into

particles

That only you

can see

Do you see me floating?

I just went under your

neurons.

You were

suppose to sniff

Now I cannot even

live in your brain

I am stuck in this

weed (not a bad thing)

waiting

on a dog to piss.

Death by squirting

I have thought of you

the night through

not knowing why

only that my senses are

tingles

splayed open

for your defining

I can see

us at a drum circle

our souls beating

and swaying to the

same rhythm

how cool to be in

a circle

joints going

round and round

long hair braids and beads

Lennon wailing

"Come together"

and we do

and we are

Homless

I saw the news

the homeless people

and I thought

would they trade places with me?

Debt and regular bills alike

or are they lucky

to be without these worries?

But while I sleep

in my comfortable bed

I know they would too;

as I struggle to pay bills

do they want that burden?

Yes..security

for the unsecure

Do I want to

live in a tent

on the front lawn

of the state building?

No and

nor do they

So why?

I salute these people

with no name

just faces

of hunger and worry

and I wonder

would that be better

than bills and taxes

and the dreaded job?

Who would trade with me?

With all the worry and heartache

that goes along

with being society;

not fighting the man.

Tonight I may

sleep in a tent

just to trade places

and understand the injustices

Hello and Goodbye

Touching you

Pheromones liberate

Inhaled delightfully.

"Pardon, do I

necessitate your acquaintance?"

"In what way?"

"The way that

I understand all people"

The potential attraction

is crushing

yet we

saunter away

covered in sensation

Growing up

I have already

Ruined that

rotation I swore

would shatter

The vision came

while tossing in

the sheets that

gnashed my

legs as though

they were

soft snakes

taunting me

He does

not need

love

hugs

my hand

or intellect

I have educated

him in the

pastimes of

Loneliness

Solitude

and the life

of extroverts

My pain and past

is now his

to carry on to the

next generation

like Celtic spirals

spinning without

halting

It was not your usual grain-

Spinning brightly, dashes of brown

(Those are life specs)

To whom do I speak, is it the memory keeper?

If I must speak frugally, it was a simple brown.

Lines. Lines of white not so simple

They spread out into the vastness

Teasing the sense of safety

They are the line breakers

Careful as they walk

Watching their back

Timid steps

Into the crack, not over

Are you taking this down?

(Memory keeper?)

Brown. And white. Lines.

Vastness. Safety lurking under the grapevines

Taking away my giggling

And innocence

Back then on the table

Grains far from the truth

And now,

Hiding here on the wiggly time line-
I squirm.

I must remember what good feels like.

Earth odors emaciate my senses,

Thinning

My blood so that I may

Fly without air

Melancholy wine, tendrils of their own

Wrap around me, curling me up

(Please take this down.)

I become pod-like, and safe in my shell.

My breathing takes in all that approaches

Even the white blurs

(Note to the keeper: the following)

Remove the prickly taunts-

Just grab the ant by its legs. It does not belong

This time

(Memory keeper: Life specs)

It was about squeezing what was left-

Wild onion grass underfoot, a bushel of space,

Upside down butterflies,

He loves me, loves me not, I wish I could

Remember. To try. To savor

What was left of adolescence

In memory

Only the sting.

(Was left)

It is later now.

My pinkie nail has grown

filed to a point like a vampire incisor tooth.

The memory keeper is long gone.

My half-life is burning out

but it still fuels the hybrid being that I have become.

The white line blurs within me. I breathe it in.

I have parted, split, broken, and become effused.

The jagged line is there in the middle

between existentialism and aesthetics.

Much later.

I remember spring.

An eruption of shadows, and light.

The fullness inside of me.

Vines that hug skin tight.

And I am whole.

Mediocrity

One bird on a wire

Not sure if it is genuine

All the cars glimmering

in the sun dry my vision

Where have the old

ones gone? rusty and smoking

Oh I spy them down that

dirty area of urban sprawl

Turning away not looking back

Departing from the genuine people

I go back to the

attractive people

and breathe

The Great Disposal

She was deceased, my grandmother

Packing was an abominable chore

Brothers deciding

Who would get what

(I already had the 200 yr old table)

Then the scream of horror

Guttural and disgusting

Great uncle Roy screaming

MY name

So I run

And there he stands over

A nightstand drawer

Peering at a simple

Creamy vibrator

Remove it he says!

I stared at the last

Remnants of

Grandma’s youth

And shivered

We found one

In every room

I knew because

There was always

A scream