Saturday, January 26, 2008

Last Echoes

Last echoes of spring as thunder rolls overhead
Mowers make their final pass under summer's unrelenting sun.
Fields, soon burnt and brittle, flowers no more until
Cool breezes bring autumn rain settling the dust, quenching
The earth's awesome need. Leaves fly, swirl and dance.
Golden-orange globes appear, last echoes of my garden.
Bare, trembling tree limbs shake off their frosted coat.
The North wind rises higher, faster, colder, screaming through the eaves.
Nightfall winds subside. Snow and ice mix descends.
Tomorrow a winter wonderland, it's a shame no hill for sleds.
Clock strikes, bells tool for the last echoes of an old year.

About Cold, Dank Mines

This is the 21st century. Yet mine owners all over the globe send men to mine pretty much as if we were in the early 20th.
Bucyrus and Merrin have a "walking dragline" that digs up to 3,000 feet deep. It is a matter of retraining the miners to run the equipment, build the roads and drive the trucks. It is a thousand-fold safer than current mining methods.
The biggest drawback is the cost to the mine owners. Apparently, it is a cost they are not willing to bear. So much easier to let the miners and their families bear the ultimate cost.
'Nuff said.

Cold, Dank Mine

Boys are turned into old, old men
Way down in the cold, dank mines.
Owners watch their bottom dollar
While IMSHA turns a blind eye.

Black as coal, her widow's weeds
There's another price he'll pay
Should he escape the mountain's wrath
Black lung claimed another man today.

It's all about the bottom line.
Much cheaper to send the men
Cheaper still to bury them there
Way down in the cold, dank mines.

Owners put on those "walking shoes"
Made by Bucyrus and Merrin.
Keep that walking dragline working,
No men down in the cold, dank mines.

Cold, Dank Mine

Soul in Darkness

In darkness my soul does wander
Lost as in the deepest forest.
Dear God, my God, why turn
Your light from me?
Wandering, stumbling, falling
my soul engulfed in sadness
heart and soul shatter in this black void.
God and His angels have turned
their bright countenance.
Trembling in fear, as a child,
I seek His grace.
In those dark hours before the dawn,
a hand reaches out I see.
A voice so sweet and yet so strong
Beckons, child, my child come to me.
Love so pure, the light returns
as down on my knees, I pray.
The answer comes, haunting refrain,
it was I who turned away.

Monday, January 14, 2008

Publishing Purgatory

Some of you may have noticed my absence. I have been in publishing purgatory! However, I have returned unscathed. My book titled "Through Clouded Eyes" was released just before Christmas. Hurray for me! Don't you just love early Christmas presents? The book is available through Barnes and Noble, Borders, Waldenbooks, and of course, my publishing house It appears to be doing quite well. I am thickled pink! I am almost ready to submit a second book titled "This Side of the Dirt". Taking photos in old cemeteries. Oh, don't's not that ghoulish. It's really not. It's kind of like editing...making certain you've gotten the lessons learned before the "dirt nap".
That was the good news. Now you know that I've saved the bad for last. I was making a left turn onto a six lane highway on Friday last when my power steering went kaflooey! Trust me when I tell you that those suvs don't like to turn without it. Talk about getting your panties in a wad! Pulled into the nearest service station and popped the hood to take a look. Can you imagine the looks I got? A white haired little old lady with an oxygen tank strapped to her under the hood of her suv checking out the problem. I knew as soon as I opened the resevoir and found it almost depleted that I was in deep s---! I feel as if I need to beg the question...should it go kaflooey after only 40K miles? I don't think so! Needless to say the pump is not yet available as an after market item so the "House" had to make the repair. Rip off central!! I will pick it up today when I leave a wheel barrow full of that precious green stuff. Bye, Bye moola. So much for any royalties earned so far.

Thursday, April 12, 2007


There appears to be this craze to pierce all visible and covered body parts. I don't get it. The ears, certainly. However, it is disconcerting to try to give an order in a restaurant to some girl whose tongue is pierced and she acts as if she's TRYING to show it off! Yuck! So here's to all the boys and girls who feel they must defile their bodies in this manner.

Bling on her fingers.
Bling on her toes.
Bling in her navel.
Bling in her nose.

Bling in her nipples.
Bling on her bum.
Bling how she glitters!
Bling she's not done.

Bling in her eyebrow.
Bling in her tongue.
Bling in her small ears.
Bling, eight for fun!

Bling near her honey.
Bling goes the wand.
Bling at the airport.
Bling she won't leave land.

Bling! Bling! Bling! Bling! Bling!